Freelance Anthropologist

I really want to travel, be a social-experimentress

I learned to write from a girl named Megan, it’s not some cheesy friendship romance though – I was jealous of my first boyfriends ex so I stalked here online profiles. She introduced me to the magical world of tumblr, Pinterest, etsy, wordpress.

Online – she was everywhere

The rest of the story for later

I just got invited to a Rave in LA

Travel poetry, compensation for all the ways I lack in texting experience

I’m back

It was loud, I’m not so sure I’m good at writing anymore, I enjoyed logical proofs applied to various phycological concepts, i liked writing in the dark like a hacker is portrayed in the movies. My lower back started hurting, I’ve had this pain before. I need sex.

I rode a bird around the empty 3am streets. One of those things I dream of but then I try and I see all the danger, I test fear, let the stories I’ve been told play (in my head). Emotionless zombies on the search for purpose – graffiti then robbery found to be too tame, the product, an expert marksmen lurking in the shadows in need of release. Shots fired at passerby cars. Guns made out of 3D printed parts, PBC pipes…idk kind of inspiring from the perspective of someone surrounded by top grade mechanical engineers. I’m done compartmentalizing my education. Yes, this is all painted with the bits and pieces of movies I’ve seen. The reality is that this area is bad, because it is littered with forgotten humans.