06 December, 2010

Spoons.

I want to say, "Don't go."
I want to say, "Stay with me."
But I don't know where I'm going or how I'm getting there.
And I don't matter.
My opinions hold no sway.
I have no pull on this.
I only have memories of beds and couches and warmth.
I only have past lives.
I need to find someone else to push all of this love on since it's not working for you.
We lay like spoons,
in a rented room,
nappily ever after,
every afternoon.

22 November, 2010

A litany of prettiness and pettiness, too.

To me, you are the most amazing and interesting person I've ever met. Or you were? My marveling for and my pining of you have faded somewhat. I can still get that feeling when I reach back into my brain files and remember your eyes in lantern light and the way your hands feel. How our excitement was all the more exciting because we wouldn't let it touch.

Is it love that I can see and know your obvious flaws but still find you incredibly irresistible? Or is that stupidity? I mean, not a day has passed since our eyes first locked that I have not thought of you at least once. I try but trying not to think of something only brings it up faster.

What about this? I wanted to write a few lines about myself. I wanted to somehow define myself in the context of my day off spent consuming caffeine and reading with a little search and rescue but as soon as I start to write, I just think of you.

Oh, you, you, you.

With your big, beautiful eyes and unabashed enthusiasm. Your body that's too long for my bed. The grace with which you walk into rooms. The way you enjoy drugs and alcohol so much but I've never known you to be fucked up even as I'm stumbling into streets to vomit and then return to party some more. I feel lucky to have met you. You are the love of my life so far.

That's both exciting and horrible. If I never find someone better, well, I had an awesome time. If I do, HOLY SHIT, THERE IS SOMEONE BETTER. I'm no longer waiting for you and I feel like that's a step in the right direction. But even as I'm 'talking' to other people, here I am writing about you on my blog.

I guess I miss every single thing about you but I miss it more when you're right in front of me.

25 October, 2010

There isn't a word for what I'm going to be when I grow up.

I make a lot of plans and to-do lists and whathaveyous. I'm trying to do that now and realizing I don't really want to. I am reconciling, recoiling, remarkable.

We haven't talked about it but I'm pretty sure my mom took some time off to "find herself." When else could she find time to hitch-hike to Alaska? I'm hoping she remembers how good that time was for her and her mental health when I tell her this weekend that I'm dropping out of society as much as possible. I know my parents will always love me but I also want them to be proud of me. I'm sure they'd have a much harder time saying, "Oh, Susan? She's... quit school and is working full-time! Yeah, we're proud of our average girl!" I'm not any less valuable because I don't strive to be rich, famous, or ridiculously well-off, right? I hope not.

So, I have a plan? An idea? A goal? I know what I'm doing right now is not working. I know how to get out of it.

For now, working a lot more to get a place in Gainesville with John. More working and saving to move to Colorado (Colorado! Who would've thunk it?). Working and making connections in the Cannabis Business (Cannabusiness?) until I get restless enough to make new plans. Ultimately, I want to be in Washington, in a house, adopt two kids.

Scary is exciting but nice is different from good.

19 October, 2010

Maybe your write.

Strung out and stoned with some Stevens and writer's block.

I still shiver like I did when you flashed your wolf-smile at me (an expression I'd never expected on your face which made me both excited and scared). I blush to think of your teeth, now just sitting in your mouth innocently when not too long ago they pressed into my flesh as you rutted against me in the t.v.-blue light of a rented room.

But that no longer happens. It was strange even as it was happening. I don't know what to think now nor do I know what to expect.

So, I sit in a room filling myself with drugs and listening to music which has lost power with time and try to write about how being around you made me feel infinite one moment and like I was wasting time the next. I love you and there is no doubt about that but with the full moon coming I'm trying my damnedest to forget that long enough to swallow another love pill and make more room in my heart. Wish me luck.

18 October, 2010

Newly Red.

Lost.
We have no great battles.

05 October, 2010

Nouveau (oh!) Riche!

New favorite thing: laughing whilst orgasming. Lasts longer, feels better, and really happy afterwards.

21 September, 2010

Complementary

http://wildernessoverload.com/home.html

"when i think of what your mind does it would look like this"

15 September, 2010

O, futur!

Sometimes it feels like the present isn't happening except as the waiting room for the future. It's a pretty comfortable waiting room; there are magazines telling you about future things and all the time in the world to think. What do I want in the future? What does future-me want in the present? What is going to happen?

I always say that my ultimate goal is to own my own Cannabis Bakery but my real ultimate goal is the live off the grid with my partner, our two adopted children, cats, cows, chickens, and a big garden. By a river, perhaps? In a tree house. Not going to work a job but just working in the garden and teaching the children about the world. Having friends pop in at unexpected times. Creating art everyday. But I'm not doing anything today to work toward that. At best, the path of my life right now continues to living in a rented house with a boy, maybe a cat, working full-time, and creating only messes. I don't know how to change the path without also drastically changing my life. I like my life. It's been better but it's still fucking awesome. And getting better!

I just got too high to keep doing this. The air outside is tinged with autumn and I have to ride my bike or weed my garden but I cannot be here anymore.

11 September, 2010

Dog problems.

I feel like in the short time I've known you, I've been just watching you change but maybe it's just the better that I get to know you, the more of you I discover? Your scent stays the same and it drives me crazy. Earthy, deep, light, colorful, boy. I'll decide that all I want is your friendship and then I smell you and forget that. You're not what I had planned. You're not what I saw the first night but there's the small glimmer of what I know now was love-at-first-sight.

I don't regret any of it.

31 August, 2010

Flip-Flop.

The majority of the time I feel better when I'm home. Home in the sense of not school or work -- a friend's bed is as good as mine and a beach works, too. Lately though, when I am at home, I feel the crushing reality of life. When I'm at work or school, it doesn't seem to be happening. I'm just slicing bagels or making creme brulee, not working to pay the bills or studying to graduate.

Last week was one of the hardest weeks of my life and not for any goddamn good reason. My uncle died and I worked nearly 40 hours. I skipped school a lot. Then I took off in the middle of the night to Gainesville. Being back in Gainesville showed me so much:

I still love my life. I still think of Gainesville as home. I have so much love and gratitude for everyone in my life. I am not going to be swallowed by the darkness and heat of Orlando. I also remembered just how goddamn much better weed makes everyfuckingthing. I even discovered a name for my future cannabis bakery: TasteBUDs.

I also realized there are a lot of things I'm not letting go. It might be unhealthy but I'll carry them for a little longer. I realized things I don't want to happen to me. I don't want to be 24 and uncertain about my sexuality. I'm trying to figure that out a lot lately. As far as I can tell, I'm a lesbian in love with a boy who looks, talks, and acts like a girl. But I could be wrong. I've lost my warped desire to sleep with everyone I meet. I don't even know what I'm looking for anymore. I'm looking people in the eyes more. I haven't got it all right yet but I've got it alright.

Tomorrow I'll get the biggest pay check of my life and promptly send it to pay for my bedroom. It would be upsetting except that I'm doing it: I'm an adult. I pay my bills and work and go to school. In one week I'll be twenty-one and I actually feel productive about it.

On the other hand, there is nothing more appealing than my old life of sleeping when I want to, working occasionally, school when it was convenient, party, party, party, and spending too much time just being happy. I miss that girl so much but I'm not sure how to get back to that while still making my life here. Do I have to choose? Be happy or be successful? Do I need to change my idea of success?

Right now I need to sleep and then wake up and go to work and then to school and then I'll be at home again with my thoughts for three days until I can escape to Gainesville again.

Addiction and subtraction.

I was thinking about quitting something and it made me think of it as an addiction which lead to me thinking about all of my other addictions.

But my addictions are not something I feel bad about. I am more excited about them. They exist as excitements. I love them. I may be addicted to love.

An obvious one is smoking. I adore smoking. I'm not trying to recruit more smokers or anything but, for me, smoking is lovely. Even if I smoke too much one night, I'm only thinking about it the next morning -- when I light up another cigarette. I like having something to do at parties or at least an excuse to go outside. I like the people I meet whilst smoking. I like watching smoke come out of my mouth. I like the smell. I like trying different brands and flavors. I like sharing cigarettes. But one day I'll quit. It's not a big deal.

I don't think I'm addicted to sex but I am definitely excited about it. I like, obviously, doing it but I also like everything leading up to and afterwards and how each experience is different. Having dinner or going out and then coming home to have sex is pretty basic but helping a guy carry his drum set up 4 flights of stairs and then having sex is exciting. I like not knowing if someone will cuddle after. I dislike when they don't. I wonder about people snoring or talking in their sleep. I wonder how being next to someone will affect my sleep. I like thinking about what someone would like, what would excite them. I like experimenting with new bodies and seeing what I like best. I hope I am always so open for it.


21 August, 2010

My love.

My love is ten feet tall.
My love is static electricity.
My love is swimming in circles.
My love is comfortably worn.
My love is dewy and brightly clothed.
My love is dancing.
My love is closer than your skin.
My love is further than the moon.
My love is swayed by the tides.
My love is a familiar melody.
My love is stained with paints.
My love is waiting at a crosswalk.
My love is sitting at the edge of a lake.
My love is hopeful.
My love is a wildflower.
My love is the breakfast of champions.
My love is leaves.
My love is smiling at strangers.
My love is changing colors.
My love is molten.
My love is happy.
My love is free.
My love is open.
My love is here.

07 August, 2010

Memory

I have a memory of standing in a crowd, pressed up against a metal fence next to a girl who gave me cigarettes and whom I never saw again, chanting, "Hail Satan!" over and over.

I have a memory of sitting on a wooden boardwalk in the forest with a friend, seeing everything for the first time.

I have a memory of sitting in the exit row of a transatlantic flight when I was sick and crying as I looked alternately out my window and at photographs.

I have a memory of sneaking down into the basement of a church-turned-venue and ordering a beer and not getting carded and feeling like the cat who got the cream.

I have a memory of driving on unknown roads in a new state with my mother as the rain came down so hard and thick I couldn't see 5 feet in front of me.

I have a memory of standing in an old kitchen, watching a friend cook dinner for shabbos and feeling so much love for her as she sang to herself.

I have a memory of waking up three different friends just to tell them a boy I liked kissed me.

I have a memory of walking around the streets of Holland with a near-stranger and feeling at home.

I have a memory of listening in the hot, cramped back of an art gallery as Phil Elvrum sang to me everything I have ever felt.

I have a memory of taking a new friend to my roof where we exchanged ideas and wondered wonderful things.

Right now, I have no regrets. Everything happened for the best.

08 July, 2010

Passing time.

I keep telling myself that things will be better once it's fall again.

As if the weather cooling and the trees losing their leaves is a solution for angst and stupidity and feeling like I'm 15 and a boy has just broken up with me via AOL instant messenger. As if scarves and knitted stockings will suddenly make me have magic.

It's a nice thought.

I'll be better in September. Settled. Collected. I just have to wait it out. Wait out the heat of July and the mania of August. Windows and eyes and doors and hearts will open.

But isn't that the problem? My heart is so open that it hurts. I spend my days wasting time and my nights faking everything. Every song has new meaning in this light. And I'm not allowed to sing at school; how fucked up is that?

I alternately feel like my bed is too big and too small. I want you close but not that close. And all of this because I wished on the biggest dandelion I'd ever found. Where did those airy seeds land? What an awful wish. A wasted wish. I need to get wasted.

Pretty soon the sun will rise again and I'll get up, take a pill, start to clean the kitchen but get distracted. You'll be here but not here and I'll reach out and there will be nothing. Only for 15 more days.

I wish I were a cartographer.

05 July, 2010

Foil

Everything that makes me ridiculously happy lately has come wrapped in shiny foil which hides the potential danger of it.

And maybe I'm being too weak but I'm gonna give it two weeks because I'm too young to deal with anything and the thought of working at anything, anywhere terrifies me.

I just want to be happy so keep the foil coming.

29 June, 2010

Already gone.

I think I now know what Micah meant when he said what he said about people seeing each other at their most vulnerable.

All in all out all around all. Letters and paints and the ideas that haunt me until I finally drag a pen, far too heavy, to the page and get it out. Cough it out. Write like nobody's business.

Great hacking coughs of words. Acidic words as though they came straight from my stomach brought up by a bottle of wine too quickly swallowed. News and roads and traffic and jobs and sun and summer. Birds and maps. Laughing and staring into eyes, into water, into the future. Blowing smoke.

All the while, the curtains are closed. I'm not letting show anything that might hurt me later but that makes me hurt now. Reckless, reckless, reckless.

I'm just one girl in this city.

The only living boy in New York.

And the two words that come unsolicited, unwanted, unwelcomed but always there:

Apple Lung.

30 May, 2010

Tarot in my marrow.

It's been a hot while since I seriously consulted my cards and they know it.
Today I spent some time with them and meditated on questions and shuffled, shuffled, shuffled.

The results are terrifying and exciting and dangerous. Here's what the deck told me:

1. Current state of mind: King of Swords - This king is certainly a ruler. This man is a law-maker, someone with a rational, alert and inventive mind. An advocate of law and order, and modernity to the expense of tradition. He has a tendency to be somewhat overcautious and leaves one project quickly to start on another. A man of independent judgment and an achiever in what he does.

2. Current challenge: 9 of Wands upside down (make your own dick jokes) - Lack or inability to give and take. Projects pursued that are destined to fail because of their impractical nature. Delays and disarray. Card could indicate possible poor or ill health. A secure position that is no longer. Personality flaws.

3. Distant past: The Hermit upside down - Refusal of counsel or assistance. immaturity. Isolation from others. A negative resistance towards help. Groundless suspicions about the motives of others. Imprudent actions or decisions. The continuation of bad habits or unproductive lifestyles. Foolish obstinacy. The reliance on one's own resources that are inadequate.

4. Recent past: The Star upside down - Self doubt. Stubbornness. Unwillingness or inability to adapt to changing circumstances and accept the opportunities it may bring. Lack of trust and self-doubt. Obstacles to happiness. Diminished life. Inability to freely express oneself. Rigidity of mind.

5. Near future: The Wheel of Fortune - Effortless success. Good fortune that is unexpected. Coincidences. Luck. The beginning of a new cycle. Advancement. Positive upheaval. Change. A card of good fortune, the appearance of destiny and Karmic change.

6. Distant future: the Page of Cups - A symbol of Imagination. May indicate a time for quiet reflection. Depending upon surrounding cards: a messenger bringing news of an engagement, marriage or birth. A reflective, poetic, quiet and artistic person, gentle and kind. A person with a wealth of knowledge, giving freely his advice. A person gifted with much foresight.

7. Outside factors: Judgement upside down - Stagnation. Delay in concluding a series of actions. Fear of change and sometimes fear of death. Lack of progress due to lack of important decision making. Loss and separation, not necessarily permanent. Guilt.

8. Internal factors: strength upside down - Power wrongly used. Defeat. Lack of willpower. Feelings of inadequacy. Pessimism. Surrender to unworthy impulses. Tyranny. Concession. Inability to act.

9. Best outcome: THE JOKER - Beginnings, most probably of journeys which may be possibly mental, physical or spiritual. The beginning of a new life-cycle. Energy, force, happiness and optimism. The overturning of the status quo or existing states by unexpected happenings. Innocence, naivety, and spontaneity. Important decisions to be made.

10. Most likely outcome: The World upside down - Frustration. Completion delayed. Sometimes fear of change. Inability to bring something to a satisfactory end. resistance to change. Lack of trust. Despite appearances to the contrary, an indication that events have not yet come to a conclusion but are nearing completion. Hesitation.

And just now I shuffled and split at random to Death and the Moon. Jesus fucking christ. So, yup, that's my life in cards right now.

Moonshadow.

Traveling on lonely highway road with a
fresh pack of smokes
and
a heart full of hopes.
I am novelty and I am young.
Kissin' my girl and stompin' my boots.
Smilin' at nothing in particular.
Flowers in my hair,
music everywhere.
This is my last summer of underage drinking.

26 May, 2010

Moonshine

Under the viper-black sky I am long, love, longing, lost.
Moon shadows and smoke.
Thinking, breathing, hoping, dreaming.
Patient but needing needlessly.
I am thinking of you.
Swell of blood and warm, wet, salty.
Mmmmm.
Imagine, feel, pressing closer.
Memories expanded and made to make making love.
Buzzed.
Shiver and convulse and still thinking of you.

20 May, 2010

Nothing Set in Stone

All my worldly possessions are stacked up
and packed up
and utterly inaccessible.
I'm sore and I'm bleeding.
I'm tired of all of the needing.
Will I sleep in a bed tomorrow night?
Where?
With whom?
Where will I be the night after that?
I'm reflective / introspective / and not at all selective.
Animal collective.
Court and spark,
I feel like we've never been in the dark.
Caves and graves and basements.
I do incredibly foolish things under the influence.
Am I trying to prove to myself that I'm fun and out-going?
Or am I trying to prove it to you?
Either way, the next morning I look and feel like an asshole.
How anyone can stand to spend more than 5 minutes at a time with me will always amaze me.
I'm too honest and the only time I said, "no." I didn't mean it.
Or did I?
How will I ever know?
Will I ever get the chance to say, "I was just kidding. Yes. Fuck it. Let's do this."
Or will I move on and find new things to ignore?
New songs which will remind me of how silly I was?
Every year I think, "This is the best year of my life!"
And then I get older and can't believe just how much better it is.
I hope that never ends.
I already accept that this isn't it but...
some small part,
whether it's my brain or my heart,
says I'll fall in love when the leaves change their color and the trees shed their skin.
I'll be happy and learning and wear coats and scarves.
I'll finally be able to drink in bars.
In a house with a fireplace,
my cat,
my photos,
and stuff to put around my neck.
And you'll see.
It won't be like the drunk's wisdom.
I won't be that girl for so many people which leaves them wishing down the line that they
could've
should've
would've
loved me.
I can't possibly be more assertive. It's not my way.
I'm gentle and gullible and a whole gang of other words beginning with g's.
But in the autumn I'll be warm and content.
Settled--
like the dirt in my shoes,
the wine in my glass,
a cowgirl's blues,
alas.
Or at last?
I don't know where I want this to go.
I just know that I don't want it to end.

16 May, 2010

Peace

I feel calm.
I can feel my blood, my heart.
I can see music floating to my ears and I can see nothing bad happening for a little while.
We can stay here.
We can be still and just be.
There are no worries, no obligation, no pain.
Summer kisses me with sun each day and I play hide and seek with the moon at night.
I can stand on shores and hear the ocean.
I can touch trees and feel their history.
I am young.
I am infinite.
I am fancy-free.
I'm going to live the best life ever and it starts over each second.
I'm glad I never killed myself all of those times I wanted to.
I'm thankful for all of the luck I've found.
I'm excited.

10 May, 2010

Disregard

I feel.
Not enough. Too much. Boring. Sad. In general: awful.
I want to overcome the need to hurt other people when I've been hurt.
I want someone with whom I can just be honest.
I'm not whole. I have no one to talk to.
I just have power but not in a way which would make me a better person.
I can only bring people to levels lower than my own.
I need to move on and stop this.
From one cycle to the next:
my heart is open and then it breaks and then I become this monster who takes all the love in the room and makes your fiance cheat on you and yes, it takes two to tango but someone has to fucking lead.
I can't keep doing this. I want to be happy.
I'm just so scared.
And what scares me the most is that I just might not be worth it.

09 May, 2010

Mother


Blood of my blood and flesh of my flesh.
Everything that I am,
everything that I have is from you.
Little woman but so full of love and strength.
Wild one, I wish I could reflect your
brilliance,
&beauty,
&love, love, love.
There could never exist enough time or words to thank you
for your
support,
guidance,
&excitement.
I have to settle for shared laughs, cries, and hugs.
I hope you know that you're the best woman I have ever known.
I love you.

06 May, 2010

Yeah, stuff, yeah.

Stuff I enjoy: my family, being young, smoking, drugs, acting more fucked up than I am and the reverse, walking places, holding hands, listening to music that reminds me of people, old-timey stuff, telling myself that I'm awesome, meeting people, my friends, being overly friendly, being crazy, girls, boys, grapefruit, having purple hair, bartering, baking, painting, looking at things when I'm intoxicated or not, standing in forests, smellin' flowers, sharing everything, giving blowjobs, journaling, paying attention to the blood flowing to my clit when I get aroused and thinking, "If I were a boy, I would have a boner right now.", getting my period, knowing moon phases, learning useless stuff, free things, buying used everything, feeling the dirt in my garden to see if it needs watering, sand on my feet, feeling words in my mouth, petting cats, being a mystery, laughing in quiet places, telling myself jokes, hugging strangers, hugging loved ones, waving at everything and anything, the faces of cows, standing in rivers, peeing on city property, peeing outside, rubber shoes, being barefoot, dreamin', singing, learning my limits, being in love with the whole goddamned world, making lists, decorating, sending and receiving mail, being in Europe, not having a job, not giving a fuck, crying because everything is so perfect, caramel or blueberry flavored coffee drinks, card games, museums, finding things, how much gay men love me, video games on occasion, hating television but still watching it online, turning my computer off, masturbating, only having liked kissing one person ever, beards, growing up, learning from small children, talking about having children one day, following dreams, concerts, Polaroids, smoking when it's muggy/foggy/cold/hot/raining/inside/outside/alone/with friends/etc, my phone, stealing from The Man, being particular about which laws I break, not always getting what I want and then getting something better, scary stories, acting like an asshole because I don't eat meat, seeing my dad's siblings, champagne, whiskey, wine, airplanes, trains, maps, speaking foreign languages, dancing, googling random things, vandalizing things to make them pretty, having people like me more than I like them, cuddles, rollercoasters, giving my little brother condoms, glowing, the feel of sunburn, sidewalk chalk, beer for breakfast, sunlight, oldies radio stations, weather reports, sleeping, talkative taxi drivers, cheating, tea, being completely lunar, bees, colors, swimming, being stupidly optimistic, telling/hearing stories, travel, creative people, talking to animals, drumming, astrology, tarot, my car, making people happy, not showering/shaving, all forms of precipitation, music, reading, cursin', having the worst taste in movies, wind, knowing, using antiquated language, not cutting my hair, living day to day, being a hippie, touching different textures, chickens and eggs, getting caught acting like a wild thing, biting/not biting my nails, teaching people things, parties, smiling, farmer's markets, no longer having a disease, having been blind, wanting tattoos but not getting them, thinking of my life as a book, my camera(s), thrift stores, finding things on the ground, having my car be clean, lookin' a mess and actin' a fool, my graph, the idea of Atlantis, looking up, not having a religion, wishing on planes, bettering myself, reminding myself that it's just the drugs and letting the trip take over, being open, having black men hit on me, ironing my mom's scrubs, being unrealistic, not knowing what is creepy or not, getting too stoned to move, doing things because they feel good, sticking my arms out of my car, driving with my knee, humming, not remembering anything bad, not worrying about anything, going to the beach, imagining where people are when I'm talking to them on the phone or computer, poetry, MRIs, and being alive. And everything else ever.

05 May, 2010

Hand Thoughts

All good things are wild and free but I'm tied down to a lack of direction.
My compass is being pulled north but there's magnetism east and west and south.
My regrets -- what regrets?
Wish I could've done, said, had more.
I don't want to keep waking up with a pain in my chest.
I want a new place to call home.
I need to create.

04 May, 2010

Bubbles

The bubble burst and rained down it's sudsy memories through the late spring air.


26 April, 2010

Summer Lovin'

I'm a warm summer mess
in a cool summer dress
crossin' state lines and
statin' lines 'cross
telephones.
I want to talk for hours.
I want to swim in lakes.
I want to find the source for whatever it is that's making me
crazy&
excited&
alive.
Discover why just holding hands makes me wet.
Find the well from which it flows and dance on stars
in bars
in cars
and sing with birds.
Find some words written on walls where I'd never thought to look.
Shake hands and sleep intertwined.
There's no reason not to.
Why not?

19 April, 2010

Blue

If you feel it, it's real.

There is such a lack of "maybe" in my life right now. Yes, no, yes, no, yes, no, no, no, no. Yes. I'm happy and I'm free and I'm open. That's all I've ever wanted. Time only exists in the way the shadows change in my room.

I wish I had more to talk about. Or more people to talk to. Or something. Instead I have a belly full of beer, too many plans in too many cities, and Joni Mitchell desperately trying to teach me lessons but I won't turn up the volume.

A cigarette flew back in my car yesterday. It hit my head and then burned a hole in my shirt and back. I tried to figure out what the universe was trying to tell me: "Watch your back." "Don't litter." "Smoke less." But I think it was more what my mother always says, "Guard your heart." But I'm tired of guarding my heart. I worry all of the time that people can read my mind. I would tell anyone anything if they asked but I don't like that idea of my thoughts just escaping and making their new homes alongside the thoughts of others.

What do I have right now?

Cookies for my drug dealer. An appointment to see my best friend in our future home. A new brand of cigarettes. Half a beer. Time.

Oh, god, so much time. I can't focus. I'm high on freedom. I'm low on money. I'm leaving the state Friday at sunrise. I'm tired and I'm selfish and goddammit, what the hell am I going to do with all of those flowers now?

It doesn't matter.

Tomorrow I am going to hug as many people as possible and discover something new. The day after that, I don't know.

But my hair will be straight and purple and brown and and and.

I see you shiver with...

I think I've almost completed one complete month of celibacy for each and every time someone cheated on his or her significant other with me in 2009.

I think it was worth it even though they'll never know.

At the very least, I've learned how to be happy on my own.

15 April, 2010

The quickening.

I started to write something here but decided I'd rather paint.

03 March, 2010

Vanity Calamity

I still think about you.
Your lips mostly and occasionally that part of you which differs from me most strikingly.
It happens when I listen to Carly Simon which happens so often by accident when I mean to play some Paul Simon or Simon and Garfunkel who, incidentally, brought us together as friends.
You're such a Mick Jagger.
It's not even just that fact that you both have those obscenely sexual large lips.
You think you're a rock star.
You party like you're a rock star.
But you're not.
Your band is awful.
I wonder what I ever saw in you.
Those lips.
Lips I have only kissed a handful of times.
So seldom do those lips release anything worth hearing:
"Beer pong!" "Listen to my band!" "Don't be that girl, Sue."
I hate that you call me Sue.
I hate that name.
You make no sense.
And yet, I miss you.
I think we could be great friends if you'd let the blow job go but
alas
and
alack
you just don't call me back
and I wonder, wonder, wonder
but mostly I don't care.
But those lips.
Goddamn.
You're so vain, you probably think this post is about you, don't you?

03 February, 2010

An overcoat is a second skin.

The best thing of anything today is hearing the city come to life:
the sun rises through my balcony windows
the post office sings
dogs bark and birds buzz.
I sneak to make coffee without waking Emily.
Always bold French roast.
Puck, the indoor, domesticated sprite, mewls.
Television's off tonight,
I heard somebody cry outside,
and the smells of spring are everywhere
getting mixed up with my own.
I feel like so many analogies
but what I am is a cat in sunshine.
A cat in sunshine, a canary in a coal mine.
When the autumn leaves and the winter settles in,
sometimes it seems as though an overcoats a second skin.