Hey! I’m Katie and I’m Irish and Puerto Rican. I'm seventeen. I am in love with Oscar Wilde, dandies and all things Victorian Era. I know I should’ve been born in the 60s, but instead, I began breathing on 4 July 1992. I use British English because I can’t help it anymore, I wish Marc Bolan would come back to life, and people like to tell me when they see anything Bowie related, because it reminds them of me. I think that’s pretty sweet. I love movies made by Tim Burton and Hayao Miyazaki, my favourite word of all time is ‘tramp’, and I fall for sweet talk way too easily. Especially if you have an accent. I wanna major in English and history (probably), tour as a roadie with Invisible Children, and end up in the Peace Corps someday. I support marriage equality (and if you don’t, I think you’re a major tool), I think Brussels sprouts are disgusting, and I’m learning to speak Gaelic. I often poke fun at my favourite guitarist (Keef Richards) by mumbling unintelligibly with an English accent. He’d probably hate me for it, but it’s okay, I’ll love him forever anyway. I'm gonna end up living in Brighton someday, I know it. I'm never coming back to this town. It never gave me anything. I rant frequently, put things that don’t make sense into the same paragraph because I’m a rebel (exhibit A: this paragraph), and I hate Twilight. (No, seriously, don’t ever talk to me about that horrible piece of trash.) I’m gonna try to change the world, okay? If I can’t, please let them know that I died trying and I gave ‘em hell. MySpace // Facebook // Last.fm // Twitter

music. writing. movies. accents. irish music. history. glam rock. converse. the cool side of the pillow. cold water. bandanas. art. photography. friends. going to the movies. every decade from the 20s on, especially the 40s, 60s and 80s. the victorian era. steampunk. rococo. words. ice cream. fedoras. new york city. london (i've never been but i'm DYING to). organized chaos. just plain chaos. black comedy. dry humour. gold jewelry. neon colours. ap magazine. spanish food.

homophobia. racism. all that bad stuff in which people discriminate against other people for no reason whatsoever. people who label it a "david bowie obsession." the word 'grisly', especially when used to describe a homicide. bad grammar/spelling. snow. winter. fake friends. fake people in general. things that stick to you. clowns. that retarded 'stanky legg' shit. the smell of cigarettes. drugs. alcohol. twilight, which i hate with a burning passion. elitist bowie fans.

You should know: I love David Bowie, and that is the understatement of the millennium. He has been my hero since I was five years old, and twelve years of pure, unadulterated love doesn’t just disappear, okay? If you’re not prepared to hear a lot about him (as well as my love for glam rock, etc.) then you may as well NOT add me. My love for that man goes deeper than my love for 95% of the people in my life. He is the only true definition of hero that I have known and will ever know. No other person in the world has ever, ever, ever meant this much. Nor will anyone else again. So when I say I love him, I mean that one thing more than anyone can understand, okay? Okay. Several people call me Katie Bowie or Miss Bowie, which I find not only hilarious, but pretty sweet. He's just...I don't know. I can't describe the love I have for him in a couple of simple paragraphs. I wrote my creative writing portfolio over him last year, I have lots of merch including the most amazing canvas print of him hanging over my bed. Sounds stupid, but I like to see him when I wake up and before I go to sleep because he reminds me why I'm still breathing. Without David, I would not be who I am. Without David, I would not be alive, and that is the damn truth. He's my whole heart. I probably will never get married, 'cause no one's gonna wanna share my attention with my first love. :P I'm pretty sure that if I never meet him, or at least never see him live (which at this point is doubtful, but I can still hold onto hope, can't I?), I will die with an huge hole in my heart. Oh, and one more thing: I absolutely hate elitist Bowie fans. I can't stand when people are like LOLZ I'M A BIGGER BOWIE FAN THAN YOU AND I'VE LIKED HIM LONGER BLAH BLAH BLAH. I don't care how long you've "liked" him or any of that bullshit. My love for him goes way deeper than any of your stupid I'VE LIKED HIM LONGER, I'M A BIGGER FAN THAN YOU bullshit. So before you comment me and tell me you're a bigger fan, consider the fact that I don't really care if you think you're a bigger Bowie fan than I am. He's GOD to me, so back the fuck off.