Music is my boyfriend

I remember when I used to be this angry punk in my early twenties, embracing everything that was opposite to the suburbia nightmare I ran away from.... Mississauga, Ontario, Canada. I was everything at once, vegan, lesbian, environmentalist, anicharist but mostly a hater of the highest order. Do not get me wrong, I do not think anyone engaging themselves under these titles are jerks, is just that I used these titles to cover up what an asshole I was. Somehow, it got into my head that bisexual-spelt-eating-shit-starters were the only ones worthy to be my friend. The one thing I remember denouncing the most was my taste in music. I rejected anything popular to obscure tunes with urgent political agenda. The beats and rhythm that effortlessly spelled fun during the hard times in my life was seen as sugar coating something "real". I had two t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans as my wardrobe at that time and drew some really lame comics as my "art".

I didn't really see the genius that is pop music until much later on in life, after my first break-up, after I quit my job, after I left the city I know so well and pursue an adventure in another one I have never been to.

This is my first post

Hello my name is Donna,

Is summer, is raining and is hot. Creativity takes a toll with this steamy, sticky mess. This weather is a cue from the universe to chill out and reflect, hold hands with your neighbors and trade secrets in between sips of ice cold beer. My neighbors are all working hard so I have been left alone, naked in front of the computer, killing time. I find myself collecting images of beautiful woman in amazing dresses. Thank you universe. It is inspirations like these that really pulls me through the hard times, when my mind is just a humid cloud of nothing. I sound like a total creep. 

Va va voom. I like boys but come on, I just can't take my eyes off of this. Is purrfect. Makes me feel like a little girl.

When I was very young, I actually cut out pictures of beautiful woman from my mom's gossip magazines and tape them all around my bedroom. I was a bald kid with an overbite, a trouble maker in the making as most thought I was a little boy. Despite this, I used to get my mom to buy me super frilly dresses with a matching parasol. The overcompensation I made for my laten hair growth led most to believe that I was a very young cross dresser. The cruel hand of fate forces me to be ahead of my time without me ever even trying. Anyhow, my hair began to grow soon afterwards. I still like to dress up and appreciate  all the ladies who take the time to do their hair, wear them heels, eat well, curl their lashes, the romantic fancy pants of the world, I salute you all!

xoxo