I hate you. Now that your images of cutesy owls in top hats that symbolize nothing more than how easily trends sway you plague the world, I am doubting my plans, in which two owls rest on each of my shoulders, representing my parents, their wisdom, and ability to keep me lifted, as well as the creativity of three of my closest friends. Run on sentence, meets rant, meets explanation. I don’t want to be seen as an oxymoron, then again, who am I to care what anyone thinks?
Sincerely, Jenny Jane.
But really, I care what some of you think. Thoughts?