falling off swings

used to make me laugh so hard.



im sick. this is it. the head cold of 2008.


:/



i should be drinking water and sleeping.

i got the duplex. and will be moving soon.
im too excited to remember i cant really breathe.
i threw away a whole pack of cigarettes tonight.
maybe im a little proud.
tomorrow i get to see one of my favorite boys.
some kind of office party thing.
i cant stop sneezing.
ew.
i have spent the last three nights away.
ive been in clouds.
we went to the club from ages ago.
its not the same place i remember.
but we sang and stood and smiled.
ok, im sniffling.
calm tea and lemon or honey.
give me comfort.
still.
what a nice week.
my heart is feeling out others again.
this is the up.
[the down will hurt, but i hardly care]


come on nyQuil.
work that old familiar magic.
and let me sleep.

kanye says it best

I got my life and its my only one
I got the night, I'm running from the sun
So goodnight, I made it out the door
After tonight, there will be no return

out of mind, out of spirit, out of patience

please leave.
ugh, why do you come here.

i just saw the preview for the curious case of benjamin button. your turn.



oh god it looks amazing. please to read the short story first.

love looks sweet in the pictures.

transition [continuation] and images of comfort

i haven't had a dream in a few weeks. its pretty unusual. black.
i use my dreams as crutches. they are something to run to when the day gets big and too full with noise. i drift off into them like comforting pools. they are funny or sad, always colorful and new. lately it's been a strange new existence. something too real and hard edged. me, this homebody, this isolated thing, i walk around. i don't think anyone could understand how difficult it is to be outside lately. maybe im going insane, all the way finally, going mad sounds better, less crazy. haha. hey now, i feel fine. i swear. but i don't act it. sometimes the way people look at me gives it away. the way my voice curves in shame or fear at the end of sentences and the way my hands curl protectively around my forearms when i walk. I've become that awkward weird girl you see on the street, clothes not matching, hair up on one side, a little frumpy and grumbly. me. sweet. still, i feel fine, content somehow, maybe a slight shade of worried and sometimes a little lonely but fine. but what is it that makes me not fit? i miss my dreams. alot. i can function better with their memories. red cliffs, blue blue water on beautiful beaches with impossible skies, the houses, the way peoples faces look, school dreams, the dreams with tiny bubble fish made of glass but still breathing, you should see, it's something else.
it's so cold outside. there was ice late yesterday. chunks of ice and a slush, falling from the sky and out of the wind.
last night i spent the night with my best friend. the boy one. funny its ben so long, but it was easy to fall back into the old routine. i witnessed my first gravity bong [that was something] and marveled at his new friends. i've missed the energy he gives off, the jaunty confidence and the easy bruising.
i still haven't studied a minute for my finals tomorrow. mostly i just want the semester to be over so i can turn my brain off and prepare to guard myself for christmas. it's been a long time since i've completed a full semester, with good grades no less. ugh yep, now is about that time. the wonderful copper taste of self sabatoge. i guess i should have known.
sometimes it feels like i've been dead for the last 3 years.
i always say its been forever since, so long since, and so on. like i wasn't aware. haha. amusing.
i wish more people were willing to talk about existence. i have many questions. and i like to hear them talk about it. the perspectives and such.
moving moving moving. will i lose my job again? like the school sabatoge it's about that time for my job. i'm already calling in too much. [sure my dads health and finals are part of it] but i'm also getting that strange fuck this i don't need this job feeling and no matter how much i love working there and all the people i know one day i'll push them too far and then poof. the cycle restarts. and i'll ask myself what happened. time for a goal maybe. keep this one. keep it stephanie. do this for yourself or you'll really be that stupid girl.
well see.
harumph.
moving moving moving.
constantly. there's never time for me to get comfortable in one place. all these things i talk about now. they won't be around next year. who knows maybe i'll win the lottery and move away. hmm. that's a nice thought.
being home alone. is wonderful. my cats cock their heads and disagree.




.i need more primal things, simple things, warm delicious things to help me.

harumph [grumblings]

i hate being out.
nothing new, just the same, salt and white rice, boring.
and the freakin children!
yeesh.
where is it, that deeper thing? that wonderful burn? that sickening twist and turn and questions and effort. maybe it was the group of teenagers i was walking behind today, maybe the way they talked, like a different language, unappealing and full of sharp notes and the stupidest most assinine subject matter. i used to be those girls maybe, sure, maybe. but fuck. hee hee look at us! boys! so cute! oMg what will we do for like 3 hours? whats a man hole? ew! the bus no way like call that dude from yesterday!
where are they? interesting people have to be Somewhere...?
[maybe im just too picky.... but....]
its exhausting. straight up exhausting to be outdoors lately.
to be around people and not scream and run away.
this is my i will fulfill my destiny as a spinster slash cat lady.
its makes sense.

i better learn how to knit.

faith (this is what it was)

i remember you.

im always surprised at what i get when i feel brave. sometimes its just what i wanted. the voice on the phone is warm and familiar and the tales spill and roll. we never shoud have let it get this far. but i guess it means now we have more to talk about. and that makes me happy regardless of the space.

its been ages.

it feels better

when the person you're talking to is really saying something for once. we hopped restaurants trying to find a place to smoke and maybe study. i could say we're old friends. i could explain. but i wont. talking to him was release. it was comfortable and it was easy to laugh, to not try so hard, and simple to just sit. this person in front of me, i had missed him when he was gone from my life, wondered. and now he was new and strong and still the friend i needed him to be. the ideas and thoughts were terrifying and change inspiring. i wish there were more people around me like him. what a soul.

so thank you.


my chest burns and now that im thinking in fuzzy waves of near sleep im a little scared.
ill be living all alone soon.
ill be branching.
its going to be eternal nights and internal arguments.
i just think i need to be away from people so i can build the heart to miss them. maybe i wont be so jaded in a few months.
maybe something will change and ill reaize how silly everyone is being and ill laugh. hah.

next year ill leave the country and surround myself with jungle and storm clouds.
i think it will be just what i need.

the rosary was tonight and i havent forgotten you little brother. heres your birthday letter.

joey,
hey babe, its me, your big sister. i gotta tell you, i miss the shit out of you. since youve left so much has happened and in true stephanie form, im still fumbling through life like an idiot. im sure your laughing at me right now. do you miss me as much as i miss you? i wish you were here. you could be at school with me and im sure your grades would be better than mine. dad and mom miss you too. theyre so funny and weird. i think about you everyday joseph. everyday i think about the last day i saw you, how we hugged and how we said we loved each other. i was so lucky to have such a wonderful, loving, and beautiful being for a sibling. i love you so much. happy birthday.

so much love, stephanie



now im done, drained, exhausted.
time for sleep.

because im warn

help me help you

post

i have lost my plurals.
the s's are falling from the ends of my words.

great.

somehow the cold weather isnt as soothing as it once was for a much younger stephanie. she used to love buying mittens and curling into balls in bed. now im outside without a jacket with a crooked mouth and cigarette in hand trying to wish away the wind. its too cold for this. this testing of my body and resignation of mind. im careless. too forgiving. silly. jesus, the years have not been kind to me and now the fading memories are making me sick and sad.

i need
-tea. hot and minty and calming.
-friends. who dont bail at the first sign of the storm and hold my head when i question existence.
-nicotine patches.
-textbooks on how to deal with being 23 in a low lit city full of fools.
-something sharp.
-his voice again.
-antacid.



please please please.

make this ok again.

but no ones reading and im still scheduled to work all night.


oh boy.

whaaat

my last blog made no sense.
also, im kind of wondering what the point is here people. blogging seems silly suddenly. like im talking to myself.

my heart hurts.

hatred in all shades [frustration too]

mix and match.

the other day i was downtown and i saw the most beautiful couple ive seen in a while. he held his hand and told him he loved him and they were clean and fresh in a gray city.

hen the man at the bus stop said, "hey faggots go suck dicks in hell"

and i wanted to cry, but couldnt, wanted to smile at them, but they were already gone around the corner.

hm.

otherwise:

theres nothing more exhausting than one sided conversations. the kind where you realize walking away should have taken place nearly two minutes ago or years ago and now its too late, you may as well keep talking. so you do. and it doesnt change the dead behind the eyes look they have they dont smile or cringe when you lay down the bad news three quarters in and they dont reach out and touch you like you want when you start to cry. they just stand there and look at your mouth move. im tired.

so tired.

also:

dear sweet god the holidays are here. people, well theyre swarming. this time of year they move in careful packs and bundle up for the measly degrees of winter texas allows. they laugh and reach for plastic and purses and children and they move and move and move. they make me dizzy with wonder at all the energy they can find around this time. and me im standing behind a counter between them and something they want. please and thank you nothing. i watch them and fight panic attacks. right now my heart is skipping.

put it outcha head, yo.

finally:

help me im out of good music and theres no one to see on friday nights.

what to do, this poor girl is getting tired of chasing cars.

everyone else is getting fucked and im dreaming of rome and people i dont know and dried flowers.


i must be tired.


ugh.

cath

she stands.
with a well intentioned man.
but she can't relax.




i know how she feels.


someone take me out of this.

the hard part is still ahead of us

buuuut, i'm still enjoying the afterglow.
Obama won. i was at work the night of the election. it was dead in the store and people were milling with either apathy or looks of nervous excitement. the usual assholes came in and stole the Obama books or turned them over. it was funny. like they knew they were doomed. dawnelle called me with updates and the conservatives i work with came by looking despondent. at 11 i was already celebrating. i don't feel bad for feeling good. i didn't care that night either when dawnelle said Barack was our new president. i cried. i dropped the phone and cried. i was happy and excited and overwhelmed with pride for our nation. for those voters. for the minorities that rose up and proved statistics wrong and for all the African Americans who had just a little more to celebrate than just a new president. i went home and watched the speeches i had tivo'd. McCain was gracious and well spoken. he was defeated but he still needed our country to move forward. i felt a warm emotion for him as he told his booing crowd to help the new president, to see the good this could be. he will always be one of my favorite moderates and im truly sorry that he ever heard the name sarah palin. she was the loose rock in the landslide over his campaign.
then came Obama's speech. it was amazing. he looked so tired and heavy with the stress of this election and the loss of his grandmother. his smile and his arms around his wife and children were relived and loving. when he spoke everyone fell silent, but they couldn't hide the smiles and the happiness. he told us everything we have been needing to hear for years. he was humble and powerful all at once. his voice was clear and his ideas seemed to float out over the city of chicago and settle there like a signal of things to come. like a comforting hand after years of pain and struggle. he was the role model for so many children. like a woman in our paper said, "i can tell my children they can grow up to be president now and know that it isnt fantasy, its real." we took strides on tuesday America. we overcame and we brought they right man to our lead.

in his words, the words of a man who has changed history, the words of our new president, our new beacon for hope and progress-

"change has come to america."


yes we fucking can.





in other notes.

im exhausted.
and confused.

and everything will be ok.

pictures

my fingers are covered in glue and glitter and tar gel. im exhausted. fucking beat yo. work is work and im single again. this must be what dreams are made of.

at work

the other day i was standing outside smoking and drinking my coffee and i fell into a state of disarray and imagination where a man would walk buy and throw the coffee and cigarette from my hands and sweep me into a turning dance before leaving me breathless and clueless to who he was. when i snapped out of it i ran inside red in the face, and wishing harder than i have ever wished that this isn't everything, that this is just transition like i'm always trying to convince myself it is, that this current state is going to be drifting off of me soon and that whats left will be worth the time i've spent in this screened sense of abandon and recklessness.

the trick

is to put it out of your mind.

headache, hello again.

mix [the last few days]

My head hurts and I can’t stand the typing anymore. I used to love it. Remember? Used to crave it. Now I only see facts and spell-check and minus this and that for bad grammar and unacceptable punctuation. Oh well. Fuck it. Let’s go.
[There was a whole paragraph full of happy recanting and news of the ever changing ever colorful goings on of nomad Stephanie. I’m lying it was stupid and childish and I’m embarrassed to even mention it. Wait… whatever]
I’ve been dreaming more and more lately. The other night I had a dream where me and Jon and Giselle were caravanning to the desert, trying to reach the end of the world. On the way Jon crashed and Giselle was coughing pieces of glass and when I finally saw the red cliffs of the edge of earth I was grateful. I saw the cliffs and a second later we were parked and they were gone and I was young again and part of a new family who told me to forget all the things I had learned from the center. There were caves carved out of the soft stone and torn curtains hung out of them. I thought of Indians and realized everyone was wearing strange clothing. Grey and black and gold chains winking from behind buttons. I sat in the cool hallway of one of the entrances and this girl walks up and tell me I have to change there’s nothing here I would fit in to and that maybe I should think about walking into the desert to die. She hands me a gold chain with a cross before running away from my baffled face. I’m sad now. Suddenly Dawnelle comes out of no where, oh god I’m so happy to see her, and does she know what’s going on? She says she cant talk her mom is back with him and I have to come with her now. We run to a desolate and empty gas station miles out, with lame fluorescent lights glaring down over sand and rocks and two broken trucks. There her mom and her man stand and hold hands. We reach them just as an old lady walks up and starts to hit Dawnelle’s mom. We jump her and the man runs away. After the old lady leaves we stand around Dawnelle’s mom and tell her how beautiful she is. I wake up.

[continuation]

The other day a girl in my art history class asked me if I would help her study for the exams. I told her yes while shouting what the fuck no in my head over and over again. I didn’t want to do it but somehow my mouth formed words that turned into my phone number that turned into me running out the door while still talking and her waving or something and looking quizzical.
And today a guy sat next to me in the com lab and, poor thing, he must have a disease that makes soap and water feel like acid on his skin.
And then the presentation travesty. God. Here’s me in front of the class about to give a presentation and I forget everything. I stutter and my voice shakes and I literally only say “Take notes and read the paragraphs and uh you uh will be fine. I think. Yea.” Before I run to my seat.
Times like this I need a lot of antacid and a lot of cigarettes and time.
I have none of those right now.
I’m not lonely, just needy.
I need something or someone, but I’m too neurotic to advance searches for either.
There nothing fun about watching someone lie.
Sometimes I wonder if birds want to poop on me.
Work is the shittiest bunch of managers I have ever had.
I want a green tea or something. I feel like I’m gonna vomit.
Whoever thought it was a good idea to package dog food in little TV dinner trays and sell it to me for 69 cents cause you know then ill buy it. Fuck you, you’re an asshole.

Last night I got to close the café allllll by my lonesome. Sweet. I walked out smelling like Satan’s asshole but happy since I got some help from gangsta co-workers.

[continuation]

Something about the sky today reminds me that we live on an actual planet. Dust and rocks and people milling and no one looks at the sky anymore, only each other. The clouds were brilliant in their shape and size and color. And finally there was a breeze and a second for me to puff and sit. Just sit and look up. There are so many birds in the Quarry right now, they swarm and turn in mid air. It’s scary and funny. All those birds. I always wish someone in a beamer had just washed their car. I felt tiny on the bench outside of the store. I felt natural and part of the scenery. It amazes me that we always have a changing work of art right above us but to most it’s simply wallpaper with an old pattern. How is it we get so used to things? Get so tired of them? I’m never tired of the things that need marveling. Things like love and grey skies and the perfect line and a never perfect circle. I dunno. Maybe this is too much for such a frustrating night.
I did make ten bucks in tips though.

[continuation]

I had a dream last night. Of course I was in love, of course I was careless and of course I’m homesick for this dream right now. There was one part of the dream where me and a boy were walking on a street. We were dirty and ragged and we had the sad air of nothing that only street kids have I guess. It was getting late and we had to get somewhere, and it had to be fast for some reason. We met a man behind an SUV and he seemed frustrated and upset but he opened the back for us anyway. The back of the car was full of old foam like from mattresses and dirty sheets. We climbed in and lay next to each other as the man locked us in. He said he would be back for us in the morning. He hugged me and kissed me and I looked into his somewhat familiar face and noticed something weird. He had a contraption over his mouth, metal and round, ad it was an acid blue color. I touched in and he told me that he had just dipped it and it hurt. I held him and we fell asleep. Cut to a supermarket, cut to a classroom, cut to a fight over power and the color crimson and I’m waking up with an aching heart and the realization of yes, I do work today. Fuck.

[more still]

tonight i took alot of pictures in matts backyard. the best way to describe said yard is take a museum full of strange and unrelated items and blow it up, whatever is then dipped in rust and buried halfway in dirt. like a sunken ship except with bottles and can and pipes to nowhere and computer pieces.
beautiful.

my eyes burn but im too busy remembering what it is to blog to care.

your nomad stephanie is safe and calm. the storm is lingering but the wind is slowing. im reading the curious case of benjamin button by f scott fitzgerald. its racist and always romantic. bittersweet and it makes me want to smoke and talk to strangers.
funny, i wrote to someone tonight and said those exact words. lame ass me.

god help me

can i make it through the new week.

queen of apology

yea. not so much anymore.

theres nothing like teasing and drawing anger. like blood it sticks. i think i may have a problem. the masochism is trying to find another place to live since im denying it my skin. i think it may be coming to a head. im blowing things off, walking away and im stuck with this feeling. addicting and powerful.

lets move away from all this now. theres no time.

the world is moving and im stuck with the assholes. friends. is this what they are? [right]

i cant study now. how could you expect me to. im riding the manic part of the chemical imbalance that is my brain waves. im foaming at the mouth. antsy antsy antsy. god help me im ready for a fight, a beat, a clinical movement, a new pace. lts time, pick it up. runnnnn.

oh.

fuck.

what the hell is next. im moving forward but the earth counterbalances and im off kilter.

these thoughts arent coming together as seamlessly as i had hoped. and im stuck watching the debates and wondering what the rest of the nation is thinking. wondering how me and this man in the same room are still friends when every time i nod my head he growls and curses. his hands clench and i hate him a little more. its getting to where i cant stand these people anymore. maybe i just need to move to a cave and stay away. turn off the tv and turn up the music. am i the only girl left with a walkman and 300 wires? batteries.... what are those?
geezus fuck im losing breath.

slow down. the human connection is nothing. this cigarette. nothing. this fantastic anxiety i cant control. nothing. god help me. i may be regretting tonight.

lets see how bad i can make it.

chaos breeds happiness.

at least to me.

and right now, i need to be happy.

moving, messages, and giving them away

i'm a wreck everyone. a straight up hot mess.
no cigarettes or home.
stephanie the nomad is down to the basics.
pulling clothes from the backseat of the car or yelling as i fall down stairs while juggling lamps and cutlery.

great.

i've always enjoyed these trying times. they happen once in a while and always leave me lined and furrowed.

breathe in.

out.

now shut up and get through this.

[sigh]

burfday love and simple worries

yesterday was tons of work and the easiest smiles i ever had.
at work people acknowledge, walking by and the hours are craaaaawling. finally im out of the store, into the car, hurry get ready, out of the apartment and into the waving laughing slightly buzzing voices of my friends and family. it was kind of funny but sweet. my mom was actually laughing and dawnelle bought me roses and i nearly fell over when i saw my dad and my older brother sitting at the bar of the restaurant talking. jason buys me a shot. i havent even eaten yet. here we go. dinner was trouble with breadsticks and wine and warm warm warm feelings. i love these people, here they are, watching me blush and twitch while the stupid waiters sing to me, a 23 year old lump of embarrassment. money in cards and a small frozen cake. geez. the shots kicking now, and im ready to leave. the older folks kiss me goodbye and us kids head to the bar. girl in a coma and girls from work and lonestar. the sexually mixed crowd and cockroaches on the patio. im in heaven i tell you. homework and stress leave me, even though im reminded when i see people from class and they cock their heads. drunk now dawnelle retrieves me from outside and we run in, shes telling me i hope they play my favorite song, and im just trying to keep up, light headed and smiling. when said song starts she puts her arm around me and this girl who ive known forever yells and this is my real present. this flutter, this exciting moment, she sings and i sway. behind me my brother laughs with his friends and its like i know everyone here. we swim through people and buy shirts and then its back outside for air.
i think im breathing.
what a day yesterday was.
it was probably the best day of 2008.
sigh.

were moving out of the apartment. all of our stuff is in piles or in boxes or in plastic containers and trash bags. im moving in with samantha. i think. she has two kids and a small room for me. i cant take anything. theres no space and im not on the lease. this is going to be hard. i just want my own place. i want to come home and talk to my cats and smoke on my balcony and sleep. alone. this has been festering for a while. and when tom asks me whats going to happen to us i know the answer, but i cant get it out. it hurts. this. i just need to buck up and get this fucking going. i keep talking about transition but im fucking horrible. tired/lazy and way too invested in this monotonous simple way.
ugh.
inspiration?

are you there?

i thought so.


time for sleep.

passenger

in cars there is no sense of when.
this is how i see it.
in cars, all the nice parts of being strange happen.
tonight, as all my stories start, tonight as usual im in a car.
tonight though, tonight im drunk.
i have already given up on friends and the hope of going to a milling breathing place.
my fingers reach and the wind meets them, my arm creates a curve and i wonder what time it is. theres something safe about a huge heavy metal and leather and plastic capsule that flies down a street or takes a turn too fast and my body its just tenses and im leaning. into. a pause.
the air, stale and stuck as inertia and vibration and pull take over, if only for those few seconds.
lovely.
out the window are smears of color and resistance and sleeping individuals.
theres something in this movement. in the thought that in another moment i wont be where i was before.
im so restless.
work in the morning and me with this heavy head and eyelids to match.
i think of the day that preceded.
getting paid and having nothing to show for it, looking into unfamiliar eyes and wanting to say everything, wanting wanting wanting.
it might have been uncomfortable, i might have been a little catty and cynical.
but then the warmth.
[soft]
i have to say, this is turning out perfect. the goals and the planning. perfect.
i usually get what i want after all. and im just drunk enough to say it. i usually win. right now im pretty damn happy. rare. i could be in the usual state. but tonight im seeing the progress.
[i see my chance]

the things you want and what you get are never the same, but this time im breaking the rules.


this blog has no structure.
on any other night, i might try to fix it.

but im thinking of rolling air and another cigarettes and the way people look at me and im going to sleep off the ego im wearing and hope i wake up in a more reasonable state.

but it may be too late.

im done playing.

simplified [a manic kind of blog]

right.

theres nothing easy here.


today was a hot mess.
almost hilarious.
i don't think i've ever been so angry before today. ready to slash throats and using the words of a good friend chew broken glass.
i let myself be talked out of things today.
today was me the walking talking stephanie balloon.
wipe your feet here please.
coward.
theres something stale and ugly about this city right now. driving on the highway and all i smell is gas and all i feel is my heart giving. struggling. burning.
theres something.
thats for sure.
me, here in my new found state of transition and im pussying out.
i call my friends and its the tone of yea hold on guys its my friend who cant get her shit together.
awesome.
today i woke up and the day was already ruined.
the all singing all dancing crap of san antonio was already waiting in the bathroom mirror ready and willing. underhanded and laughing, pointing and gesturing. and im putting on my makeup and trying not to shake.
today i missed an opportunity.
but who needs an art guild when i have this person waiting to guilt trip me and take me home to cry. but now theres no time, my day is speeding up, and im in a state of unaware. something shifts and my stomach twists.
here's me, waiting in the emergency room now listening to children scream and watching him sulk and flashbacks are coming in waves and that woman just threw up all over and suddenly i'm done. finished. topped off.
[when did we even get to the hospital?]
now i'm walking out and waiting in the dark for the shelter of soggy hurricane warning air mingling with the smoke and policemen are running by and have i seen a person in a gown with bandages up their arms? you should really go back inside ma'am. but now i'm in a car and now in waiting in a restaurant and the waitress is falling all over herself and i'm not eating anyway.
forget it sweetie, see this face? done.
empowerment is taken in doses far and few. but now heres me, your disabled friend, your weight on your ankles, your hopeless cause, asking the sleepy eyed barista could you please change this drink it tastes like shit.
and she blinks once, twice, three times and tells me ok. fucking starbucks.
with unfamiliar reserve i'm walking by tables. laughter and iphones. laptops and the smell of green tea shampoo.
the new company i'm with now, he smiles as he texts and in my head i'm screaming talk talk talk talk to me goddamnit.
then my coffee scorches.
then the lighter and cigarettes click and glow and im ok.
i think, maybe i'm just a crybaby, maybe i demand too much from those around me.
[you're exhausting them silly girl, it's too much]
maybe.
right now i don't care though.
this is me, done.


for the first time tonight i'm smiling. and typing and looking forward.

maybe the idea to do something finally has won, and i'm not approaching it as a silly notion.

i like the maybes, i like the bottom, and something in the wind tonight helped me believe all is not lost. like the salvaging was the learning part.

hmm. a nice thought. in an out.


in random news-
-i almost ran face first into the boy i thought for sure i'd never see again at work. i has almost forgotten we were even on the same planet. for some reason he said hey and i said ok then i ran to cafe to hyperventilate.
-my best friend might be preggers soon.
-my parents are wonderful.
-i miss joey.


time to sleep.

today

i saw what i thought was a 60 year old woman and her young dashing son.

it wasn't until her hands were between his legs and her tongue was on his neck that my vision gave out and i began to question the structure and integrity of humanity.


[spots in my dying eyes and me trying not to give in to hysterics. these strange moments. i live for them.]

exchange

i'm melting.

dying maybe.




sometimes i sit up in the middle of the night and plan out all the ways im going to change my life. i say, stephanie this is it. and then i go back to sleep. in the morning im sore and tough throated from smoking and in my head is fog and pieces of wood, rolling in and out and destroying what was there the night before. i float through my days now. ive taken every chance to be in a fantasy world in my head, where school isnt this challenging and im 18 again. free and unscathed by love and too much drinking and sex was still a novelty. in fantasy stephanie land i never cut my hair, never say maybe ill skip a semester and somehow the bills get paid and i dont screw my best friends ex. my friends dont leave. they dont get tired. my arm is clean and the skin looks strange all one color. at work i zone. hard. i try not to in class but it happens. im so much happier there. i have opinions and a stronger mind and will there. i dont let things like this happen, this submissive pushover shit. ladies and gentlemen i think i might be losing grip, slipping. going batshit as they say. or maybe im just panicking. this is hard, this transitional period im in. ive never taken such steps. maybe ive never wanted to before, but while the prospects in front of me are looking very nice indeed the other prospect of change is frightening. chaos and angst are easy for me. old friends. this, well this is nausea and fast heartbeats.
what now.


ive been immersing myself in school work. studying like its going out of style. my voice wavers when i answer questions in class, but its gotten easier. i have a new kind of confidence when i know just what to say. ive also been planning to move out on my own. i think the isolation helps me. me and my two cats, were gonna head out. i just want a twin size bed and alot of space, covers and ambient noise. people are stressing me out. ive cried too much in the last two days to change my mind now. but who knows, im also a coward. needy. attention starved. a walking contradiction.
what now.


this place. god this place. im sick to my stomach, i dont have my legs under me. my feet. my assertion.
what now.


just go with it stephanie.
this is it stephanie.

try not to forget in the morning.

compulsion

lately i'm the walking dead.
exhausted.
[constantly moving]

my nails are chipping and peeling. they must not like my fingers. hm.

a movie has invaded my head like a disease. creating some obsession i'm sure i've seen before. a touch scary. not all together unpleasant.

going back to school is like learning to swim all over again after a paralyzing event has made you forget you had legs. the kids in my class are dyed and inked and tough and bold. and im the meek girl with clothes that still have thrift tags that always chooses the corner seat. shuffling.
tuition- 500
art supplies- 150
gas-3,000
that feeling of so this was that awkward dance i hated on the first day of school - priceless


bah.
i think...
i'm waking up now.
i feel slightly brighter.
maybe this chance wont be for nothing. i'm sure i'll have the strength to leave and press restart.
this has to be the turning point they all talk about. the moment.

his voice, his eyes, an act in a story recorded and sold. and me buying copies with money i dont have, watching again and again as he tells her to live, tells her what she knew she should have done all along.
such simple messages, wrapped in velvet and hidden.
[you're looking back..... downfall]


hmm.

what should i do now?

im horrible with decisions.


god i've missed blogging.

unfamiliar

it's been too long blogger.
what have you been up to without me?


i've become caught up.
whirlwind conditions and me with stuff to actually do and say.
[what?]
yes, me. productive.
a strange and rare thing.

dreams lately have been strange. yes the old faces. yes the walking and the colored glass, the fighting and the mossy tunnels. my father taunting an alligator with his leg and me wandering into mexico in the shape of an old library and carrying an old woman to safety. in one i stay in a tiny dorm with walls plastered with punk posters. in another im helping a friend get married and secretly spitting in her wedding cake.
metaphors?
i hope not.

otherwise

ive been here. just here. forced to smile at work and seeing my parents faces for the first time in months. im so happy they're back. the morning they got home my dad woke me up, i was still half in a dream and i think i told him to duck. the next thing i knew he was laughing and i was hugging him. he asked me how the cats got so fat and where were the keys to his truck? at work i meet little quirky girls with red hair and cynical stylings. they joke and push and play and make lattes. i think i finally found a job i might like to keep. i pin my hair and line my eyes, i brush up on my reading and i buy school supplies. new money. hard to ignore.
lovely.
but i still feel the creeping stagnant air of what was. im isolated from the familiar. i havent seen or talked to dawnelle in weeks. i saw jon the other day and i wanted to claw at him and ask him why i dont even know how hes doing anymore? im stuck with a strange roommate and tom, who just seems to lose more of his art everyday. im starving. hungry with the ache of the known. i want and want and want. sate me. somebody. im too needy and simple for my own good.
in this city, its easy to become something fluid and noncommittal.
what happened to the soft warmth and cool breezes.
lost maybe.
ive memorized the route from here to the quarry but the old roads and passages seem new and ugly.
stones for grass and crass for class.
the old way.
school starts soon and i hope im ready. maybe this time i wont fuck up and abandon. maybe this time ill have more than two words for everyone and maybe just maybe ill answer calls and take the time.
im just tired. this year has to be for something.
if anything maybe ill actually come out in the black and leave the red, sanguine or debt wise, behind.

who knows.

im usually all talk no walk.
stephanie. supreme queen of the disappoint move.
master of the slip and fall.
martyr for the lazy and unmotivated.

well see.

but i might be gone for a while.

working, schooling, and other wise trying not to kill all things fuzzy and drooling.

i didnt mean for that to rhyme. im not cute in purposeful ways.

see you soon blogger.

you were always more of a best friend than most.

furniture

right now lost pieces of my furniture are in the homes of two people that make me want to kick babies.
goodbye couch.
[you were my favorite]
goodbye love seat and pretty green rug.
[love seat. dry amount of hilarity there.]
goodbye dresser.
[guess you got tired of all the shit i put in you]


its a strange thing.
that we keep objects of other people.

last night

was a bemusing case of straw+camel.



the other night i had alot of dreams. one after the other after the other. in one of them i was supposed to be watching a baby, i don't even know who's it was or if it was mine. i put it outside in a doghouse. it was really cod. sometimes later i remembered i had put it there and me and a man ran out to check on it. it was dead. we cut it up and killed some kittens and buried the pieces in the backyard. i was terrified, they were going to catch me, i needed to dig deeper and scatter the parts of the child that i forgot. i piled flowers and soil and tried to make it look nice. that was the end of that dream. the next one was me and a woman and we were in love i think. all i know is that right before we were going to kiss the alarm went off. maybe its a sign. or maybe i just like girls. i dont know.

i hate being alone in other peoples houses.

oh an shake shake shake shake ah shake it.

the ass arrived, beautiful and most brave

i've always thought i was right.
its never been, what if i'm wrong, what if this isn't the thing to do, the thing to say, the moment to take a hand, push a friend, yell expletives at a child or skip a class.
i've never thought anything i did was wrong.
something in me makes me horrible. something in me makes me lie to your face and call you out on everything. i leave, in a rush of smoke and mirrors and hatred and i don't come back when you beg and i don't care when you cry. don't you remember? i do. i remember boys crumpled in my closet and my best friend spitting in my face. and me apologizing and apologizing. usually on the inside your still wrong and i'm still standing five feet up, in the clouds and the wonderful delusion of it all. inside its ok because none of this nonsense means anything to me. but i think i stumbled. maybe it was three years ago i stumbled. maybe it was that day. when i picked up that boy in the closet and really tried to make things better with the girl. betrayal! a change in the systematic chaos that was me then. the long haired girl who stood outside in the cold and threw cig butts on the mustang in front of her apt and walked down military brave and stupid and free. that place in my life. it did something to me. i wish i had never lived there, never answered those phone calls and never fucked that guy. too late.
ugh tonight is an ugly night. full on quivering breath and two books i can't even sit and read properly. anxiety from every corner. words and fists and dizziness and me just wanting a blue pill so i can sleep. i can't find myself. im going to be 23 and i can't feel where my feet are, or even if they're under me. i'm selfish and i try to hard to be liked. i fidget in public and go out in dirty clothes. every person i see i imagine getting close to them to see if i can find the on/off button. imagine taking them apart and stroking hair and lying in the dark and touching touching touching. what you have isn't always what you want is it? or is that the greed and the silky voice of temptation those wacky christians always go on about? fuck. i don't know. satisfaction. a word a want a fallacy. a stupid thing to try and achieve seamlessly if you ask me. at least for the strong minded but weak willed. when you want to say yes but can't for fear of a straight line instead of a jagged nicotine laced line of the usual.
maybe it's change.
or completing a sentence with thank you.
[theres a sickness here to be referred to]
something to remember, a warning paragraph at the beginning.
we were in the car today, me and my married couple friends. we were driving and i was in the backseat watching them. i found myself thinking how much i loved these two people and how much i needed to get away from them. i was in the backseat. melting. jealous. she would touch his hair and tilt her head in his direction. he would look at her at the red lights and smile when she got mad. together they glowed brighter than the texas sun. gave off more heat that the pavement. we drove on. stopping to eat. to buy clothes and shoes and walk. together we participated in the ruining of stephanie. today they created something of a monster. and heres me. said monster. typing in the dark at another persons house. away from the person i thought i loved. i think i love. but if it was something substantial why are we always doing this? why am i still seething after 3 hours. why was i so set on hurting him before i left, getting the proverbial last laugh. shrinks shake their heads here, a thousand pens tapping white pads and saying couples have to fight its healthy you're healthy and you have to be in love to be happy. alone against them i'm tired and leaning. ready with the white flag by my side. waiting for the one time where lying down beats pride. i shouldn't be comparing. i shouldn't be holding up crystal to cheap glass. i should know better. but its so easy. too easy. and its costing me. im too busy daydreaming and forgetting that the man asleep in the apartment ive abandoned for the night is the same man who saved me from the hell i was in 2 years ago. the same man that drove around town at 2 in the morning looking for my little brother whenever my step mom called him hysterical. the one who wasn't afraid to hold me at the same little brothers funeral and cry harder than me and just hold me while the useless small man i was with sat next to me at arms length and looked lost. hes an artist. a soul. and while i lash and rage and shake he waits. patiently. pressure here. something like laying in a street and waiting. something like a push you weren't expecting. a spark? why do i only love him when i write or talk? why cant i touch him when hes right there?
[the sickness, something in me makes me horrible]
the nyQuil is kicking. wont be long now.
punctuation abandoned i try to pull from the back of my head.
i play song i know make me cry.
i see the nail polish and i want to chew it off.
my head is pulsating.
and matt's mom said i could have her shoes.

what an image.
theres no structure to any of this.


please please please please

change me.

7 am

is when i have to be at work.
what the shit?


urrrg.


i miss my parents.
im so tired.
im going to dye my hair and paint my nails and try to play girl.
happiness by goldfrapp is my favorite song right now.
i need a computer.
people asking me about my scars make me crazy.
when they tip i dont mind so much.

time to go.

2 blog night

i'm listening.





[time stops still when you've lost life]



heres the thing. yea? i want it. all of it. you and you and you.
[wheres the fun in this chase]
[what happened to the color, the richness, the depth]
where am i compared.
my cigarette burns down but has nothing to say.
im talking to an empty room.
sometimes i can be so fucking boring.
tonight is tonight and its only proving all my points from before.
all those lost conversations.
all the times i couldn't stop laughing.
[couldn't stop smiling]
all the times that's passed since then.
i cant get the pitch out of my head, cant get the look on the faces out of my mind.
cant handle my own thoughts, they're so hard to steer.
i remember.
walks, and pushing, and eating and there was something in the way we spoke.
[i kept the innuendos but lost the people]
something hidden and waiting in the jokes and the pauses and the teasing.
now its red and blue lights.
a faint taste of vodka soaked sarcasm.
[so you remember our songs our shifty dance and the left feet]
smoky eyes and tears welling.
screams and walls and distance, too far.
time. ticking.
bombs. finally going off.
embarrassing flashing bright unsteady realization.
of just how wrong i was.
[wool over eyes, finger to temple]
bang.
here on the floor a girl could get too comfortable.
she can't lift her head to see.


maybe its time for sleep.

shots fired

something like copper and smoke, i can't wash the taste out.
storms overhead.
duck.

i never was quick enough.

this week starts with me crying. at the keys. bawling.
getting up early and drinking too much coffee.
some kind of requirement. i don't know.
here's me with a sour stomach and a lingering afterthought for the more recent books i've read.
porn stars and manifestos.
feels right i suppose.
being here.
confused and mixed up and wanting to hear you say those words to my face.
i think i've had a crash today.
something of a breakdown.
watching the news and seeing the filth of present tense.
cnn. you make me hurt.
lucifer. you shit all over the carpet. i hate you.
Tmobile. your such and asshole. i want to talk to my parents.


i dont know what to say to describe how much of an asshole i feel like.

miserable and poor with words.


i have to stop dreaming about them.
[yes them]
about rollercoasters and gunshot wounds and knocks at the door.
stopitstopitstopitstopit.


too late. cancer time.

hidden [infringement]

i've been away.
soon though. just hold on gentle readers.



i start work tomorrow.
coffee and books and me with a sleepy grin.

yes.


i miss you.

did you know at borders they let you loan out books for up to two weeks if you're an employee? then they sneak them back on the shelf and sell them as new.
when you buy a book from borders from now on, think.
maybe our fingers and eyes have been to the same pages and places.
invasion.
little skin cells and particles of me hidden in your homes and shelves.
hello.

we will be moving very soon.
i will be in school very soon.
and all this will pay out gracefully and uninterrupted.



see you soon.

cheers.

fiasco [a simple story about a girl and her parents pets]

i tried to do something nice today and instead i was pulled into a bad british comedy.
geez.
so.
i go outside to give my dad's rabbit some water. he looked depressed so i figured ill put him on his leash and let him run around a bit. i stow the dog in the garage and give the rabbit some run time. hours later i go out to switch and realize oh fuck the rabbits not on the leash anymore. i spot him in the corner of the yard and start after him. all of a sudden the dog runs up after breaking out of the garage. bastard! so now its a race to the poor scared black and white thing near the fence. and the dog is motivated let me tell you. luckily just as we get there i grab the rabbits little harness and practically swing him over my head and into my arms where it thanks me with kicks to the face and chest. the dog is going apeshit. gimme the bunny stephanie gimme the bunny. i finally get the bunny to the cage and lock him away safely before turning and letting out a stream of curse words as the dog jumps on my front and smears me with mud from our most recent rain. the whole time the next door neighbor is out on her back porch smoking her light cigarette and laughing laughing laughing.

Hoo-Ray for me, girl wonder, rescuer of rabbits and obscenity flinger, ready to put on a show for the most bored of housewives.

some notes:
-yes rabbits can look depressed.
-about the harness thing. my parents thought it was cute to buy the bunny a little red harness which attaches to a leash which attaches to a stake which lets him have his 20 ft by 20ft freedom. it's actually a pretty sweet thing, my parents are adorable sometimes.
-the neighbor actually tried to talk to me while i stood there in my muddy glory, huffing and sweaty and flustered. i just walked inside.
-i still dont know how the dog got out of the garage. hmph.

theres something to be said

about all of this.

about friends and the people we know. the things give away and the things in our homes. its just too much of a thought to touch on for too long. its too complex.

all of this. all of this is temporary. and its funny that i would write it here instead of saying it to someone in front of me. but i cant i guess. its a handicap. plus that person wouldn't get it. at least not what im trying to say. its hard. i get up, i get going, i walk around and say what i have to and nod and sigh and agree. all the while im thinking in terms of numbers and stats. wondering just how long i can keep it up and whether or not the task at hand or the person im with is going to be here in a year or so. ive learned from all the leaving. maybe ive learned from what ive done.
is it worth it to keep playing?
im too simple to be involved, why i even try, ill never know.
my name isnt on the list.
and i havent had a callback in years and years.
i lurk and watch the others. they have so much going on. they have toys and friends and parties and family that are always around and always inviting.
and heres me. on a weekend. holding my phone and wondering why i even own it.
ring ring.
sorry just a bill collector.
meanwhile miles away hes laughing with the people i used to know, or shes going to a restaurant i cant afford.
heres me at home. playing with my cats and wishing i had more books to read.
wishing for something to fill the time before i have to go back to sleep, just to wake up tomorrow and do this all again.
at 23 i feel worn and leathered. i stare at myself for hours in the mirror, and wonder why my face isnt right, why i always cut my hair off or why the bathroom is never clean. at night i sneak back and play dress up and put on makeup, wash it off, line my eyes, laugh at my reflection and miss being young and stupid. those days when i always had some silly person to drag around with me.
i used to be the alpha. people used to want to be around me. did something happen?
did all those instances of me being an ass or being uncaring catch up?
i swear i was just ignorant.
cant you believe ive changed?
i guess the sum isnt high enough and maybe the trailing paper marked with x's is enough to damn me here. great. i left roads behind me bridges behind me burned and collapsing.

and now it may be too late for this weekday friend.
for this strange unnaceptable girl.
full of jealousy and and nicotine and lines and want.
its too bad too. i think maybe ive changed a little.
i think now is probably when i can say im ready.

but time is still ticking and im still standing still and nothing comes to me anymore when i call for it. ouch. headaches instead. seeing every 5 am for the last 3 months instead. existential floods and rages and lashing out at the very hand that keeps me breathing.
i always was one for good choices. haha.

i dont mean to sound so ...

fuck that i do. i think i may be angry.
just a little. i think i may be at that point where its give up and start fresh or try as hard as i can to salvage what i have.
[these ashes, these fake tin voices, these false comforts, these ugly colors]
i could try.
i guess.

but then what would i be after except tired and bruised.

all that apologizing and me without my sincerity.

what happened here? a war?
[casualties of bad intentions]
[medivac for the wounded]

i think maybe its time for me to lay down. sleep wont come, ill be uncomfortable, and the house will be too big. but ill be still, and not near a keyboard. it will be dark and i wont be able to pick at my nails.
maybe the quiet will help me block out the wooshing voices and stop the eternal movie reel in my head.
[i dont want to see the faces anymore tonight, dont want to watch them, dont need to see them]

greed. its all i have now.


awesome.

dream [a long one]

i'm at an amusement park. with alot of people i know. i'm walking with a small group and we're waving and saying hi to the people we pass. we get on a few rides and laugh at how dangerous and terrifying they are. some are water slides with crazy low edges, some are inflatable beds in wind tunnels and no body armor or gear. we even get on one where you to go into a huge glass sphere with water sliding up the edges somehow with small plastic colorful balls swishing back and forth and alligators you have to dodge. i got on this ride, i lived, and it was fun as shit. the park is huge. and we still have yet to see the crown jewel, the ultimate adventure, and they are more than willing to show us. a man in a purple shirt comes up and says everyone is gathering, you should be there. its starting soon, don't want to miss it. oh and some of you won't come back. i must be some kind of death nut because i can't even tell you how excited i am. i drag my friends with me and we head for the other side of the park. when we finally get there we realize this is no ordinary ride. this is going to be a battle. and a bloody one. ill try to describe this the best i can so bear with me. the "game area" is a huge covered arena, underground, with a few slits in the surface level to let sunlight in through. in the arena itself there are staircases and elevators and ramps going across from wall to wall and several varying stories up. only one of these touches the floor, which is covered in dirt, broken appliances, and pieces of animals. my adrenaline goes up. whats going on?
[quick note: my hair is long and black, and i touch it often and shake it more]
so now were being ushered into the "beginner room" as our guide refers to it. he says now. were going to let you out onto those ramps and stairs. and we're going to release our babies. everyone is getting antsy, some of us are ready and we slowly find each other. we have the stone looks of people with dangerous pasts and i feel a strange unfamiliar sense of pride when they come near me. let's do this, yes? the doors open and all of us creep out to the highest ramp. me and my people jump down to about the 3rd from the top. the doors close behind us and the whole room goes back up to the surface, as if on a huge elevator string. this is weird. but it feels good to be jumping and grabbing like ninjas. heh. we hear a strange noise coming from below. some of the others go down to look for the source. me and mine think this stupid and wait. we watch as they creep down down down. and then they start screaming and running. zombies. they re releasing zombies on us. shit. so now we head down. time to kill and avoid and protect. fun fun fun fun. i jump on zombie faces and punch zombie guts, i'm scared, so scared, but i fight and run and jump. i want to live after all. some of these people are my friends and i watch as they get eaten or get torn apart. there are children in here too. what the fuck is going on. a woman grabs me by the wrist and i turn and almost kick her before she puts her hand over my mouth and tells me to shut up. shes tall and she has deep brown hair and for some fucked reason shes wearing a huge wedding dress. dear god this dream keeps getting stranger. she pulls me away and we find a ledge that runs around the edge of the arena and we just watch. zombie mayhem. bedlam and torture.
[here i wake up a little. tom tells me hes going to work]
when i fall back into the dream i'm still where i was standing before. there's a man near me and i know that in some way i am connected to him. i run to help him and then suddenly i hear this blaring screeching sound coming from the floor. i look over a railing and see neon signs flashing. they blink BAIT. and arrows point to a cave entrance. the zombies stop the attack and file down to the entrance. its over. i guess we won. the ledges around the edges of the arena slide out of the walls, and they have chairs and tables on them. strange. people are hurt and dying. i start to walk the ledge and evaluate damage. some cringe and bleed and others are perfectly fine. i see a child crying and i run to her. whats wrong? i lost my flower. its gone. i miss it. she belongs to a man i know someone named bear? a huge guy. but where is he? out of the corner of my eye i see a man fall to the floor and i rush over to him, his face is young and handsome and he knows me. hes been bitten. out of nowhere a woman runs up and says quick! we have to be quick! and she pushes me to the ground where i start to convulse and twitch, she falls and does the same. i throw up some brown disgusting slime and lay there panting. the woman gets up and says you got it out. you got it out. i try to stand and realize the man is in front of me, and hes fine. he picks me up and holds me.
[and of course i fall in love]
[it's like we were always meant to be. cheese]
then i remember something and i take off running. out a door near me and into the sunlight and then down a path and into a small hole in the ground. i'm in a small mossy green room and it has little tiny furniture in it. i say where are you and the frog steps out of the little tiny kitchen. i tell him to give me the flower, i know its in his freezer. he laughs and hands it to me.its small and glass and purple and green. its so pretty. i walk back to the arena. i need to give it to the little girl. the man is still standing there, waiting for me. he puts his hand on my waist and we walk. i find the little girl and give her her flower. she laughs and runs away. its time to leave. i have to get out of here. how long have i been asleep? as we head for the door i see someone i know and i go to him. its my old friend robert, and hes in a wheel chair. he's paralyzed. i say robert? what happened? did the army do this to you? what happened? and i start to cry. my man behind me lays a hand on my back. robert turns his chair and looks at me. his face is mean and scarred. he says at least i didn't do this to myself. i didn't have THAT luxury. i know he's talking about my arm. robert's wife is there too. she stands like a statue next to him, crying a little. i reach to her and in her ear i whisper, i'm going to get married. i guess you guys can't come. please take care of him. then i hug robert again. and i'm still crying.

and that's how i wake up.

crying and shaking and worried id still be in that arena.


yep. what a motherfucking dream eh?


woo. i'm exhausted.


some points
-i always fall in love with the men in my dreams.
-me and my small group, we were heroes. almost gods among the other people. the way they looked at us and grabbed for our hands. it was amazing.
-the zombies were covered with clotted blood and they had facial expression. which made them even more disgusting. when i bashed their heads in they were hollow.
-i was actually also in love with a woman in this dream. confusing.
-the dream was so deep and complex. i loved it.
-the way that me and my group moved was like those urban jumpers. it was such an amazing feeling. i want to get in shape and try it now. its like flying. it took my breathe away.
-other people in my dream included aunts and uncles, my little brother, dawnelle and bryan, tom, jonathon, and my grandfather. creeepy. two of those people are dead.

let me out, i can't hold my breath any longer

getting the fuck out of here sounds really fucking good right now.
i'm woozy and sleepy from pills.
the computer keeps wanting to restart.
i'm going to sleep all day tomorrow.
i hope i don't.
sleeping hurts.
i miss people.
i wish they were here.
ready to grab hands and spill secrets.
i wish i had alot of things.
wish wish wish wish.
nothing ever happens honey.

just go to bed.

if i could put my finger on the feeling

i wouldn't need to blog about it to work it out.
something about being lost and angry, or dependent and needy. i think it's contagious.
maybe it came with the rain.

the cat is walking around and just fucking crying and crying. in his two toned lucifer voice he's driving me crazy.
[oh god shut up]

i think i may be bad at taking care of things. i could never be a good mother. i don't think i could care for anything that complex and keep it alive. it scares me. but i forget to feed the rabbit and sometimes the cats and i never water the plants and what would happen if i had a child? besides the fact that i don't want any, i don't think i would have any just for the potential kids protection. strange thought, but it ties into a very strange dream i had last night where everything i had, my chinchilla, my kittens, my parents plants, everything i was taking care of died. they were all shriveled up and gasping for water and i just stood holding the hose and watched them die. i woke up shaking and i ran to every animal in the house and every plant that was brown and i swear i apologized. i watered them i fed them a little too much and i held them. i was so scared that i had killed them. ugh. it was not a good feeling.

now there's just the acid in my stomach. and i'm here playing the waiting game. waiting for the lady from borders to call me, waiting for my parents to come home and take this responsibility back, waiting for tom to get home, waiting for school to start, waiting for the day when i can be comfortable and secure and warm and everything else. because right now i'm slipping in the water on the runway, i'm running in place and everyone's watching. i guess they might be playing the waiting game with me. waiting for me to get the fucking point of it all, waiting for me to get a move on. and we're all waiting together. how sweet.

i have my little hidden comforts. i have that much at least. i have amanda and brian, i have the box of pastels under all those books in my living room, i have the blankets and the millions of pillows on my bed, i have sleeping pills, i have makeup i never wear except when its really late at night, i have my peppermint tea, and i have chu.
[oh and you guys, i have you guys]

i wish i lived in seattle. the constant rain would have me like this everyday. on these types of days i can finally grasp whats going on. i take care of myself and i eat alot of soup. everyone gets hugs and i get too deep too fast. i like it. i'm at my neediest on these days, which is a refreshing change to my usual get the fuck away what the hell does that mean shut your stupid mouth demeanor. these days i fall happily into teary eyes and quick conversations with strangers. i just miss how i was. i used to be so interesting and new. now i'm aging and my eyes are opening and the bliss is cracking and its not as shiny as i remember it.
[i am stephanies strange sense of drama]

ouch, my lips are torn and dry. i left my chapstick at my apt. great.

i haven't bitten my nails in about a week. so now i'm at the stage where i'm accidentally scratching myself and others. the fun stage.

listening to music from high school is amusing. i don't know how it makes me feel.
[Head Automatica][Beating heart Baby]
[Bush][Cold Contagious]
[Imogen Heap][Headlock]
[Collective Soul][Run]
[and so on]

i just made a SHITLOAD of bacon. which is funny cause i don't have bread, eggs, cheese, or pancake mix. just bacon. at least ill get my protein.
i feel like such a guy.

rain, things i miss, and my poor hands

its so pretty out right now. but with my head the way it is i cant tell if its too hot or just right. urg. i was doing some lurking today and i realized that there are quite of few things of mine in the homes of people i can't stand anymore. you know who with my rug and love seat and all those blankets and whats his name with my couch and my dresser drawers and whatever else he found in that storage room. and what do i have to show for it? it would be easier to deal with if i had something of theirs. geez.
my bones hurt. i bought some sleeping pills last night. they're perfect for me. a good soft sleep.

it's raining nicely outside. today is perfect for:

Tea with mint.

Miso.


Rice.

Spicy Tuna.

Blue Moon.


Smokes.


Scrabble.

someone come eat with me, drink with me, smoke with me, or try to beat me at scrabble. it's too green outside to be alone today. sigh.

today i'm 97

at least that what it feels like.
[give me walker, please son]
this morning i couldn't sleep, so i didn't.
i stayed in bed and watched cops shows and food specials. then at about 9 i started to feel stiff. i figured i just needed to get up and stretch but when i did i was alarmed to find that both of my ankles felt sprained. in a few hours my knees were swollen and they burned so bad. then my elbows, then my shoulders, then my hands, then my fingers. by this time i was going to the bathroom and looking at myself in the mirror wondering what the fuck was going on. then i saw it. on the vent. dust? no i grabbed a paper towel and tried to wipe it off. it was green and fuzzy and round and terrifying. mold. was that what was doing this to me? lame. i couldn't pop my fingers or even make a proper fist. ugh. my legs were weak. i'm tired, so tired.
[god likes to stick pins in my burlap doll i guess. a little too much.]
careful not to trip on the blasphemy.
im just worried about my chinchilla and my kittens and my roommate. tom seems fine though.
of course.
meanwhile im wincing and gingerly walking on my toes. fuckinghell.

i need to get to the bottom of this.
or your narcissism may be dead soon.

i've gotta hobble out now.
walmart and girl clothes and me being stiff and angry.

whoo.

independence

means alot to me. it does. walking down a street, or smoking a cigarette or doing the dumb shit i do, its all possible for me because i was born here, in this free nation, in this land of opportunity.
america keeps me safe.
well its brave men and women keep me safe.
america has good intentions.
its pretty good here, you know?
so all my veteran friends, all my enlisted ones too, and every person who flies a flag today or has a kick ass barbeque, thank you. for everything. i know i bitch alot about america, but you have to know it because i love her and i just want her to be ok, and stable and wonderful for everyone.

hooray 4th of july. hope you have all your fingers by the end of tonight.


<3

pretty

so you should rent this movie. its about dreams. its beautiful and complex and i love it. it also has a big naked girl that sucks up all the nightmares at the end. yessss. and im not one for anime, but this was a nice exception.

too much

i was awake at godawful hours this morning and of course i had cnn on.
i was listening and heard a story about how the government is actually backing a form of racial profiling. they're going to watch people [based on what race they are] and they're gonna watch where they go if they travel out of country and other such habits.
well fuck you america!
that's fucking stupid. every person in this [shitty] country has a right to live and be left alone. we can't just say this guy isn't a true american lets open a file on him and monitor his credit cards or what he watches on youtube.
[pretty soon we're all gonna have micro chips in our fucking arms]
look everyone. 9/11 was BAD. it was. and i'm sorry for it. sorry for everyone that suffered. sorry. but no one, NO ONE has the right to invade someone life and privacy the way they're planning too. its just not fair. the whole thing makes me sick. we're falling apart in front of everyone who lives here and no one is stepping up to say wait, this might not be the best form of action. no one cares! and now i'm not just talking about one thing i mean the whooole caboodle. people think that if they vote once every four years they can sit back and clap their hands together and say yep did my part. i'm a good citizen. no you're not. your the one helping us get flushed down the toilet when it comes to politics and freedom. and when it goes to shit finally you're going to be one of the crying filthy idiots who ask what happened?
maybe its the wine i'm drinking to numb my sorrows but i'm pretty fucking pissed. what happened to the strong headed american folk you read about? the ones who cared about truth and honor?
now we're wearing blindfolds and sucking dicks like we're NOT living in a free country or anything.
like we DON'T have the power to stop it.
the war, the gas, the laws, and the lack of brains in the supreme court makes me fucking sigh in shame.

we're sinking.

and i'm getting off the boat.
id rather wave white flags than burn and crumble.

ugh. i cant even finish this blog. but i can finish this wine.

maybe ill forget all about it.

but just in case ill pack my bags and put them by the door.

the swimming pool

we used to steal away, deep deep, in the middle of the night
armed with green glass, silver cans, and little flip boxes of menthol
we used to go, wind in the car, our faces flushed
drunk and uncaring, touching and laughing and full on what we were
at that point and time anyway
most nights we knew we had to beat the sun
the sun brought responsibility and realization
light, it brought light and only then could we see the lines in our faces
and the empty pockets pulled out
but we went
we found the pool and we walked past the gates
and we became the creatures of lore you only hear about in stories
wrestling and flipping, barking and yelling, telling back and re-reading the words
floating on our backs and reaching to stay together
when we would leave we would be exhausted, so tired
cold and wet and sighing with the relief and the pain in our muscles
the next day our hair color would shift, green and tinged
and when the new night started
we could still smell the chlorine
take me back there
take me back to the swimming pool
back when there wasn't a crack in the sandy colored floor and the bottles weren't empty and broken and forgotten
silver cans crushed
cigarettes burnt to the filters
i see you now and i don't even know you anymore
the people around you, long haired and shiny and tall and strange
i;m just a trespasser
lurking in a place that used to be mine
it all got so fucked up
material things missing, voices raised, bruises in the morning and the one drink that was too many
truths, they come built to hurt sometimes
we just weren't ready i suppose
we were just children playing in our elders clothes and makeup
caked and loose
and we paid
didn't we
please
just take me back
march and april
so long ago

too late.




i haven't slept in two days. yesterday at about 11 am i finally tried to lay down and force sleep on myself but instead i ended up watching the power ranger movie and the food channel.
and here i am. still awake. urg.
i've been thinking of people lately. if you couldn't tell. and yes they are the ones you would expect me to miss and yes they are probably the same people you would slap me across the face for even mentioning. i don't know whats going on with me lately but i've been feeling this strong urge to pull them back. i sit here and my fingers itch with a need to write them and tell them things even though they wouldn't even open an email from me. i've done some horrible things to people and vice versa. its really hitting me now. i've been such a child in alot of ways. and a real assbag. but its all jumbled in my head and i cant even sort through the crime and the fallacy anymore. all i have now are the old sepia memory stains of people i have and have lost. little things about them that kill me and make me smile when i should be hugging or running. i've lost perception when it comes to people. i cant do that. everytime i do i end up left alone and crying or bleeding or fooled so bad i don't even realize. guards activated. checking perimeter. i'm still intact. they haven't gotten through. thank god. maybe now i can sleep. right. that would be way to easy. i was reading some old blogs from when i used to write on myspace. there's one where i list all my friends and why i love them. that was stupid. i think all of two are still standing with me. what a dumb ass i was. fuck. all stupid eyed and ready. again, fuck. my arm itches. i guess maybe i'm just scared now. i've gone through the dumb luck phase of finding friends and realized that you can't just drink and you can't just go to clubs and make like your 16 at this age. it's a little too late for that. but whos gonna take this girl? shes used, covered in scars, she has a sick sense of humor and she wont like your boyfriend or girlfriend. she tired. and its showing in the way she talks and walks. she sleeps too long, she has no motivation. sheesh, i dont even like me now. heh. nice one.
ugh i need to quit being such a tool.

like i said. im just exhausted.

fuckit.

at least i have my kittens and tom and my hasty art.

its something.
[right?]

i remember this feeling

this primal lust.

i've been drawing so much lately. working on the little comic blog has been such THERAPY.
i love waiting and wondering what i'm going to draw next. eating cold pizza and looking again and again over the ones i've posted so far. mine all mine. they give me that warm all over feeling of- remember? you used to be that person all the way through instead of this lady defrosting and trying to get back into the mix. remember. it used to be like this all day when you would wake up before noon and it would be raining. and you would walk straight to the easel and just get it all out. you used to care stephanie. but not about the things you do now. the good things. the soft things. the music and watching your wrist as it bent and your fingers as they blended.
i really have been trying. and its working.
today all i thought about what the shitty paint program on my parents computer and really finding a job so i can live, just live in michaels or herwecks.
all that paint.
all that canvas.
and me finally getting my feet under me so i can cover them with splatters and dust.

the wrinkles on my face are fading, and my mouth silently sings as i remember what im good at.


it't been the best day so far this year.



p.s
i have been posting to the art blog ALOT.
but i'll post some better stuff soon, as i have access to a sweet scanner/printer combo.
im excited.
and happy.

Rain

here in hot, ugly, unbearable san antonio it's raining.

[what a spectacle, me running out and getting the rabbit and its cage from under the tree]

i've been waiting for this, summer.

give me a storm.

couldnt sleep

so i made a blog just for my stupid drawings.

please to check it out. yes?

i have it listed: It's me or the Hot Dog.
[http://www.hoursaftermidnight.blogspot.com]


thank you,
.the management.

the sounds, sweating, the stinging, and other s words.

[all pictures have been moved]


hello monday afternoon. aren't you pretty. blazing texas sun and squirrels dancing around beams of light to avoid catching on fire. i'm pretty sure i could bitch about the heat everyday. and im almost positive i will. i hate my dad right now for buying this leather chair knowing his air conditioner is SHIT. thanks dad.

hello monday evening. your no better, wipe that smug look off your face.

ok so it took me like an hour to draw that shitty picture. [ of me and the hot dog] embarrassed.

i also did matt and jon.
[but im proud of those... i think i really got them]

people have such interesting faces. i love the looks and the lines and the eyelashes. they give out such power. i love the way matthew always looks so pissed+ complacent+sad. and jon has the sharp edges on his face of a man with a heavy mind and the eyes that always seem to say, you know your pretty fucking stupid.

theyre just plain fun to draw. even in the dirty wavering hand of mind.

even with this mind wrecking headache.

i sent the dolls another one of toms pictures. i hope they respond. they set up a page of art that they couldnt identify. i didnt see his. its a little disappointing to see the other artists and know that tom is so much better.
he needs the boost. needs to hear how amazing he is when he just draws. but he hasnt drawn anything in months. its really quite sad.

ah well.

its too hot to go on.

im gonna go sweat now.

eew.

exhausted

june is ending.

our nation is at the height of its fucktardism stage.
i'm starting work tomorrow on a painting.
i'm growing out my nails so i can slash peoples throats.
im growing my hair out so no one will call me sir ever again.
i'm burnt out at 23.
i need opinions to feed on.
i need you to
feed my narcissism.
ill repay you with plastic playpen balls and shifty eyes.
i think tonight i'm going to sleep happy.
ill find something interesting to blog about soon.

homework.
i know some of you read with vigor.
could you do me a favor?
use the paint program and draw me something.
even if you SUCK at art. please?
i need the inspiration.
even if its only a pie chart about oil or something. [jon]
email it to me, or paste it in the comments.
it'll mean the world to this artist. she loves it.


ugh.
i have to put the cats out.

better

tom is coming over.
i cant wait to see him for some reason and i just saw him yesterday.

i put the rabbit out on her line today. its cute. shes digging and running and i'm sure that she doesn't even realize shes on a leash, which could be sad if you put it into some kind of context.
i want sushi.
i want christmas.
i want symbols of happiness and a sense of full.

mostly i want scrabble and someones ass to wipe the board with.

maybe a tattoo gun so me and tom can open our business.

today i want to be a tattoo artist.
yesterday i wanted to sew pretty clothes.
tomorrow i think ill paint a mural.

im exhausted. a little drained from being sick and angry and other such uncontrollable things.
i should lie down. and wait.
maybe the realization does come like a ton of bricks. subtle was always a stupid color anyway.

dear anyone, care of the interweb

its about that time. when i look for small silver things, put the music on way too loud, go into iso mode and wonder what the hell is going on. out there and in here.

kanye west is a fucking poet. christ. too bad hes also a douche bag. its ok. hes got me moving in this chair. got me feeling gangsta without a clue. got me smiling.

lately i've been avoiding my roommate. and subtle guy he is he calls me on it. it was awkward needless to say when he poked his head out of the door while i was smoking and asked. so, where have you been? i never see you anymore, you avoiding me? um. no.... ive been sick. and at my dads. um no thanks i don't want a shot, no its ok really, ugh, fine. make it a small one.
[5 shots later i was throwing up and cursing because i really was sick, sweet]

im at my parents house for the next two days. alone. i have no cigarettes, too much coffee and sugar, this computer and the house has a bad roach problem. god help me.

i typed a dream here then accidentally erased it. go me.

whats up with this headache? you've been here for 4 days now. you creep and stab when i move my eyes or when i try to eat. fun.

i wish someone would call me right now. this house is big. and scary and making noises i don't recognize. i miss my apt and the xbox and my dumb ass cats already.


help me im lost in my own physical pain and sabotage.

but what could you do, eh?

hmm.