Life's Too Short to Think Unicorns Don't Have Fangs!

If for some obnoxious reason a sparkling white Unicorn did exist, on a sunny day, standing in a field of wildflowers, then there would also be a dark Unicorn with fangs drinking fire from the River Styx. 

What immortal beings think they've cornered the market on happiness and why the hell is mine wrapped in sunshine and sealed with fairy kisses. I want the black one, bound in sarcasm, staring into the abyss. (Whining as I write this.)

For every social butterfly out their, there's a melancholy loner who doesn't give a s#%*, and for every yellow sundress there is a pair of ripped fishnets.

Personally, my poetry can be disturbing, my art is on the dark side, and I am fascinated by the macabre. I love all things skulls and prefer blingy-goth jewelry that adds a little moon-glow and twinkle (I got that from my Grandmother Mary who loved "glitzy").

I watch murder, death, kill shows while sulking with my handmade plush monster named FRED (because Fred spelled backwards is DERF). I don't like the phone because I don't want to talk to you.

I buy young men's Helix t-shirts from Kohl's because they have skulls and Gothic crosses on them and I am the oldest regular customer at my local Hot Topic. (I am not ashamed, I Love Hot Topic!)

I will smirk at you if you look at me sideways while I'm decked out in my middle-aged Gothic finery, because I'm happy, as happy as a Goth can be!  ....and because I don't give a s#%*!


*****No Unicorns were harmed in the creation of this Blog**********