Dear Diary

Something I have discovered about myself is that if I am not constantly busy with some sort of art project, I become extremely bored with my life.

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Journal Pages

A receptacle for everything you have ever imagined, for all of your unsent love letters and bus ticket stubs you hold on to and magazine cutouts and bubblegum wrappers and a place to reside in for as long as you live. Here are some journal entries by us, and some of you.

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Sleaze-ball of my Dreams

Tipsiness bobbed and weaved its way through the crowd. Every few people were bestowed with the release of inhibitions. Those on the balcony above me chittered and chattered and tried to keep their beers in their cups. It took about a second for any spillage to meet it’s end on someone’s shoulder, so I avoided […]

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