Darla would like to take this opportunity to strip down her message. She doesn't have time this week to get too wordy since she's elbow deep in a new project that requires many used dryer sheets, so 
here goes:
here goes:I don't want anyone to foot the bill for my nasty habits and poor choices. I'm grown folk and like to think I'm the responsible sort who can keep her shit tidy.
Thus spake Darla from the heart. The world may not be ready for Darla's lovingly-crafted vision, but she's enjoying the butterflies in her tummy and the dreams of Jesus and prancing mushrooms and magic ponies. There is, indeed, a shift in the energy that's been kicking The Collective's ass six ways to Sunday for far, far too long. Huzzah!
Semi-Daily Scribbles 
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