my careless contagion

Emma Watson, full name Emma Charlotte Duerre Watson, was born in April 1990 (in Paris), when I was almost 13 years old. Unrelatedly, my ugly yellow and gray mountain bike, which I received for my birthday that year, I still own. Moving on. I know what you're thinking. Is this yet another one of Joshua's slobbery fan posts about a girl he will never in a million years be with, much less meet? Why, yes. Yes, it is. And haven't you written about her before? Boy, you ask a lot of questions. Since when has that stopped me before? On with the show!  Emma embodies perfection. I know, some of it is celebrity/studio perfection. It's a nice image, though. At a time in history when everyone is revealing all their garbage, she keeps a pretty clean image. The way she talks. The way the words flow out of her. Her mannerisms. The way she walks. Her head tilt. Eyelashes batting. The glow of her skin and the spark in her eyes. Her laugh. Her smile. Oh, her smile. Or when she scrunches h...

I admired Emma Watson for years. Please don't misunderstand. This isn't a fetish. I'm not obsessed; I just think she's incredible. Lovely, really. However, in this post, I will discuss something else that appears to be going on with her. Warning : this post is very long and contains approximately 100 photos. I spent months gathering information and hours writing it. While some may never understand what I relay in this post, others may immediately understand. I do understand because I share much with Emma Watson, strange as that may sound. We are both programmed. I realize this blog is dead, but it is my only means to share this information (perhaps Google is censoring me anyway, and if you're tired of being censored, join PocketNet, and while you're at it, upgrade your email to ProtonMail). Yet another thing I've lost. Still, I pray those who need to read it are brought here. Freedom is available! Email custerliving@gmail.com (I don't use that email for...