v u l v a l i c i o u s Los Floating Cunts 2002-07-09 // 2:40 p.m. It's the kind of day where I have to think about remembering my cunt. That's a weird sort of day, all fuzzy and gray and mostly sort of...detached, I think. Yes, that seems like the right word. Detached. It's almost as if I am hovering above my cunt, like I'm some alien vehicle, an unidentified flying object above my own cuntscape. And now, just thinking like that, I feel like a spacegirl. I feel inside out and g-force and floating all at once, feel outsider and insider all at once as well. This is a bizarre feeling, this detachment thing. Good for documentation, I suppose. May my cunt come back to me, seven fold. back-forth