Amoir go CRASH!

24 Aug

I’m in the process of donating my eggs to someone and am in the maelstrom of synthetic hormones. I am like a cheap drunk when given anything close to testosterone: I love everyone (sometimes a little too inappropriately), then crash, everyone’s an asshole that I must fight immediately.

My music tastes are changing to suit the shift in chemicals. No more sombre Interpol or some of Sonic Youth’s more lilting tracks. Instead it must be Nine Inch Nails, Sex Pistols and Tool. Loudly. While looking for a fight.

Thankfully, people have just been too obliging for words.

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