the problem with potatoes is that if there are potatoes present I will eat them.

once I get an idea in my head about someone it's really hard to get that idea about them out of my head.

as a matter of fact, I do feel quite vindicated rn.

last night I discovered that I play percussion better when I sing and play percussion at the same time than when I do either thing separately. in probably less than a month I will have it down to a science and then nobody is going to be able to compete.

chat does it ever work between superstars? just look at Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck. look at Katy Perry and Legolas. look at every single celebrity relationship – pretty much all major failures. divorce rates are rampant between superstars. why? is it the ego? is it internal competitiveness? is it that the initial electricity of being on each other's levels in terms of talent lends itself poorly toward long lasting romance? and what if, say, one of you has been grandfathered into fame and the other is about to punch a hole in the atmosphere? what if your fates might have been different had you both simply accepted each other for who you were at that moment in time? how is it possible to be the most confident person on the planet then suddenly become shy in encountering what could very well be your most complementary counterpart? I thought that it would never happen again and here I am and it's happening again.

chat has anyone ever gotten obsessed with someone who was obsessed with you, only to find yourselves in a state of mutual obsession that could neither be mitigated nor diminished by other parties, much to the chagrin of those other parties?

fuckin' nerds.

fellas, the defining qualities are talent and aura.

they don't make 'em like that in America anymore.

the man does not give a literal fuck and I love that for me.

he was so right when he said that someday I was gonna shatter like glass but what he was also saying is that he'll be there to pick me up and put me back together when it happens so I guess it was all for the best.

only billionaires know what it's like to have a billion people wanna fuck you cause you're a billionaire.

crossing the Rubicon whilst starved of affection and we're kicking and screaming into the light but at least it's almost the beginning.

the volume really does need to be turned up to 11 on this matter and many others: everybody's got options. everybody's got stories. but the best stories and the best options have some intertwining wherein there is attraction and a comedy of errors and then perhaps a quite spontaneous and romantic resolve. this is the ideal. we love a little drama here and there, but none is so potent as that which has spanned over the course of many years (allegedly) and endured the tests of time (thankfully). personally, it's a mix up of expectations which typically precedes a breakdown of communications. or vice versa. either way, it is good to make the expectations known: I am nobody's groupie. I have never been nor will I ever be. I sing like a fucking angel and I don't care to follow rock stars around begging for a morsel of attention and the occasional reward of affection. however, I like rock stars a lot and I think it's because they get me temperamentally and are not offended by my strong emotions, unlike computer dorks and geeks – no offense, you know I love you all so much – so the allure is incalculable and unquantifiable. in fact, they do want me to be even more passionate because it makes the music even better, so long as the wrath is otherwise directed away from them, which is easy when they're just so damn handsome. anyways, that's all!