i am terrified by my own lifestyle.

 Chuck-short-for-Kahlie-Marie. Eighteen. Black hair, red lipstick, inverse crucifix pendant made especially for me by a boy who loves me. Leopard print, purple, red lipstick, heels. In residence at the wretched hive of scum and villainy known commonly as the Toronto Primrose Hotel, or the Premier Rose.

I won't lie, I'm a compulsive liar who likes to do drugs and who's practically failing out of culinary school, and there's a collection of Jack Daniels mickeys building up in the window over my bedroom door, but the funny thing is how you'll like me.

I love Star Wars, cartoons, breakfast, Quentin Tarantino, good music, stuffed animals, girls who like girls, nostalgia, cigarettes, instant food, graphic design, Lady GaGa, Terence McKenna, stars, long walks, and staying up too late into the night with my favourite people in the world.

I've left halves of my heart in two different cities and entirely abandoned my hometown. I fear my wanderlust will never be satiated, but until then I live on highways, drinking white wine from the bottle and chain-smoking while the radio blares My Girl.

This is my wretched life.