yes

the last few days:

-i went out with friends and had some strange talks.
-my car got stolen.
-i've gotten into a screaming drag out fist throwing fight.
-i've been given an engagement ring.
-i accepted said ring.
-the police found my car.
-im moving.
-im warm.
-i'll catch up later.

heathens to heroes (almost yelling)

its the American way. my face burns hot with embarrassment and disbelief. how people can think they are being brave and heroic when all they are is ignorant, stupid, shameless. you fail and you need someone to blame. you fail, sorry tough luck, you know what? stop complaining and get of your fucking ass and get moving again. dont point fingers and cry foul! DONT CRASH PLANES INTO FUCKING BUILDINGS. and you, you filthy idiots squealing and writhing, fans of all this, throwing up fan pages around the pain and burning. you are the worst of all. at least the man in the plane is dead, but we still have to live in the same country and i dont know how i feel about that. seriously, how could you make this a GOOD thing? how could you make this sick man a HERO? like i said, anarchy is high school, wearing black, the world is against you, youre too young to take care of yourself, its ok to be so off base. but we are grown now. we are part of this, cogs in a country that we need, we are supposed to be smart, quick, educated, free. we should be rational and fair. we should know better than this. and yes i understand there is a percentage of retardation but just cause your mom smoked a little rock while you were in the womb doesnt excuse your dim witted half assed yells in support of something that is setting us back so far in our attempt to be taken seriously.

i am so baffled.

almost laughing.

this is ridiculous.

gotta get out of here.

shut up

honestly i get it, everyone can talk, can have an opinion, we have rights here and it is a blessing blah blah blah.
but for fucks sake why do we let the people we know are reaching for fame, straining for a camera, just trying to keep a wary and sometimes too dramatic existence going. get up there and get their word in?

ok ill start with peta. and you know what i dont respect peta. some of you are going to say hey they save animals they fight for their rights and so on, and you know what ill laugh in your face. a few years ago when i was young they were nothing more than COOL. they had t shirts and flyers and sad videos on the internet. and i went veg i paid dues, i picketed in front of labs, the whole nine yards. THEN they started drowning puppies in sewage, they started recording videos that were peta members killing animals on farms, to gain sympathy, they started "losing money". i was heartbroken but realized yes this is America everything is a business. and i moved on. so when these two women disrupt the Westminster dog show i smile a little and wonder what the hell these people are thinking. signs that say "Mutts rule" and "Purebreds kill shelter Dogs" flash for a second then the women are escorted out. i stop and think wait, all through this incredible dog show ive see tons of commercials singing praises of shelter dogs, heart wrenching tear jerking little dogs looking out from bars while the announcer says "i am strong i am wise you dont need to feel sorry for me you need to adopt me." my own dog is rescued, hes the light of my life, i love to watch these shows to see the exotic and the working, the purest of dogs, they are really amazing to see, and its a show of all the hard work and dedication the people who show t hem have. they love these dogs, they care for them immensely and all because they can. they should be able to show them. its like cars and horses. and the show took every opportunity to call back on the dogs that are lost and in need of homes, they were sponsored by several companies that send proceeds to shelters. so come on peta. fucking chill out. and try to fix your company so you dont need the publicity stunts and you can actually do some good instead of being just another blip in the news the next day.

and you sarah palin. all i really want to say to you is shut up. you are the title track of this blog. who do you think you are that you think you have all this pull? if you dont like family guy DON'T WATCH IT. you must already know they dont give a shit at fox and yea theyre gonna take shots at you all they can, after all its hilarious. and youre an easy target. but your just making it worse. all you do is BITCH, my god! why cant you read more? no, cause then there would be a book burning probably. shit. im out of ideas. its just, we GET that you have a disabled son. and we are sorry. even those of us who hate your politics. i had a disabled brother who got shot by cops. he was charged with attempted capital murder when he shot a bebe gun at cops in a rage due to huntingtons. he went to jail. why dont you do some good and stop focusing on comedy media and start with that? help us that have had family with disability and and have had horrible prejudice forced upon us, for we are helpless in ourselves. we're just people. by some grace you have gained power god knows how, but you could do some good sarah, and if you are really passionate about the cause you could really help us. dont waste your time on THIS. seriously.


im in a way today. i just want everyone to be content for once. i know there is bad shit. i know there are things you dont agree with i am the same way. i feel it all the time. but why waste all this breath and energy to complain when you could be doing something about it or focusing on real issues. you cant depend on the masses to help you. if its your belief your passion to make change youll find a way. it just doesnt have to be a tantrum or a petulant whining.

work, being on an island (in a sense), and austrians

mmmm ice cream for breakfast.


all day yesterday i thought about people in psych wards. i couldnt help it and i actually think of them everyday as i speak to them everyday. i mean, i understand the need for communication to be available to all peoples but kick me in the face if i dont agree with putting pay phones in those places. their voices hurt me. and they call all day over and over again most times to the same numbers and almost always hitting a dead end. answering machine, someone picking up the phone and immediately hanging up, disconnect messages. i have their names, our repeat offenders, in my head. i remember what i saw when i was in one of those places, state hospitals, mental and behavioral health wings, and i shiver a little and my heart breaks a little for these people that dont seem to understand that no one wants to talk to them and no no im sorry i cant try another number for you. isnt it only hurting them to give them a chance to be rejected so many times in one day? they should just regulate a phone call during a checkup or individual therapy. but i think thats a privilege set aside for more lucid and stable people. when i was at san antonio state the nurse let me use her cell phone and sneak a cigarette telling me, youre not retarded like the rest, you just cut yourself, your basically normal, right? nice to know these people watch the lost. but i kept my mouth closed and called my dad to come get me as soon as fucking possible. its terribly screwed up, the joke of the mind and body that is mental disorder and handicap. these people are prisoners in their own skin, they become more like pets you see on the ghetto side of town - on a short leash with food and water bowls tossed in, not deadly enough to be put down but not safe enough to be let loose in the yard. i gotta stop thinking about this.

i committed a somewhat crime the other day. we were driving through the side of town you roll up your windows in and i saw this little dachshund walking around by itself. it was too thin and it didnt have a collar. so using some bill millers and the interesting driving of joses sister i stole the dog. im pretty sure it didnt belong to anyone but if it did shame on those people for letting the little guy nearly starve to death. :/ marty loved him but he was a handful so mom and dad took him to use as a little indoor alarm system, haha. and we named him maximum damage panchito. i would do it again too. i hate it when people dont take the responsibility of taking care of a pet seriously. they need us.


my uncle was in town this weekend. he is couch surfing with a group of austrians and they are breezing through texas. so sat night we all went out and hit downtown. it was fun, freezing, and blurry at the end. the whole group of us walking the city was a nice getaway from the hermit style ive adapted. getting OUT and talking with new faces, laughing and yes getting absolutely shit faced was amazing. thomas took a shining to one of the austrian girls and struck out, bg and jose played a game of pool with a random shark and won, dawnelle said something in german that made the whole austrian group yell and throw up their hands (im a little bitch, i think, hah) and then we came back to our house and talked government, queer culture, travel, how cute the euro is, and what time the bars close over there. plus catching up with mike (uncle) was nice too. i feel like im not close enough to my family. ive been doing the pulling thing too long now. anyway i think we decided that me and dawnelle are gonna couch surf europe and totally stop over in austria to visit our new friends. i think one of them likes her, hah. but yea im thinking this is a long term goal. haha. its a daunting and scary task you really have to prepare for to go to another country with just your best girl. anyway sat was interesting. the only bad part was waking up the next day feeling like a piece of beef jerky that had been eaten and pooped out again by a rabid mountain lion. yay.

i have been dreaming. ALOT. thing is i remember them for ten minutes, then try to walk through to write them down and they leave. its been MADDENING. i dont know why this is happening. it makes me feel normal and useless. harumph.



woof, what a weekend. im exhausted.

smoke signals

wellllll, no mas cell phone.

i woke up and reached for her this morning, to check my twitter, to see who needs me, to tell someone i need them, to click away. let it ring. talk.

and she wasn't there.


i suppose i'll manage.

hard to explain

woof, i just woke up in a semi frenzy. what a weird ass dream, im sure i thought i was drunk and suffocating at the end there, even though i went for a run last night, drank water and tried to lay down as early as i could (2am). its like my body and mind love the chaos. they have tasted it and they miss it as far as they are concerned im a boring fuck and a little terrifying stimulation wont hurt anybody.

i swear my hands are shaking.

last night:

so im living in a huge house. its massive and it actually breaks into a courtyard in the center so its more of a complex maybe than a whole house. i live with ivan and sep and they have a massive wing to themselves that opens to the living room. the house is full of furniture from my life, the dark tall entertainment center that i used to love when i was young, the couches, tiny glass things on every shelf. im wandering through the house and its pieces of all my other houses ive ever lived in, the Philippines, san diego, here in san antonio. im touching everything. these things, these houses play deep resonating roles in the massive chain of events that made me stephanie so i take in every detail and laugh at the red and black shag carpet under my feet. (we got that here in our first house in texas) i come to ivans room and walk in its more of a large closet and its wall are like a drug store, full of makeup, creams, powders and cotten balls. i browse. im reaching for a bottle of pills when i hear movement outside, i ignore it and open the bottle. the pills are multicolored and multishaped, they are beautiful like little jewels and they smell like berries. they are vitamins? pain pills? diet pills? i cant read the label, i pour some of them into my hand and look at them closely, tiny powdery horses, glittery hearts that are anatomically correct, blue babies with umbilical cords still attached, yellow regular vicodan shapes. im about to try a fist full when ivan appears at the door, i stutter that i was just looking for some foundation and as im walking out he takes the bottle from my hands and gently tells me these are poison. like i am a small child. i flee.

[parts missing fuzzy frustrating]
-somewhere in here there was a grassy hill and a college campus and then an east side vacant lot. i cant grab it.
-there was also a part where we bring my grandmother a bright red picnic table and we sit and talk with her. her two dogs are tied up to a fence near us and i notice they arent barking. i look closely and their mouths are sealed shut. they are deathly thin. i want to cry.

finally i come back into full remembering with me and thomas going to a digital strip club. the women are not real they are like video game women. there is a massive stage and the girls crawl all over it. at one point they shut off the music and i slow dance on the stage with ha bountiful red head. she sighs and puts her head on my shoulder and i feel her thighs on mine and yes i am turned on but then i smell plastic and smoke and i remember shes not a real woman so i walk from her and she starts to yell at me, but it sounds like autotune and i run out the door. now i feel drunk im swaying on my feet and im in an alley. im slammed from behind by a familiar face - jaymes - hes standing there a little breathless and he shakes a bottle in my face and says,
"wake up! you were waiting for me then?"
and i say, "no i just knew you'd show up, where are we going?"
he said, "we can find things where our souls live, we can find what we need in moments, right now we are a second, we are ticking, we are walking, and you should arm up."
and he extends his arm and i take it and off we run! i am vaguely aware that there were two cop cars at the other end of the alley and as we reach our end and the street i hear their engines start and i stumble and fall. jaymes drags me and i find my feet, we are running towards a huge church, i fall two more times before we are ushered into the church by a cute girl with glasses. she walks us through the halls of it and we find a dimly lit living room, i hear whispers and turn to look down the hallways where i see small old women huddled around corners. creepy. the girl in the glasses sits me and jyames down and offers us cigarettes. her and jaymes drink deeply from the bottle he has and i feel faint. i look at the walls, they are covered in painting, strange beautiful works, with vibrant colors and crazy themes. im not doing too well and i fall out of my chair.

and wake up on my floor at home. shaking and kicking and out of breath.

yep.



i need some fucking coffee.

headsore

sometimes

-i just really want some fucking candy.
-i think i should go vegetarian.
-i wonder why i hurt everywhere.
-i smile at strangers on the street, kinda.
-i just need the good, strong, slightly acidic kind of coffee.
-things work out.
-the bed feels like its full of needles. why can't i just sleep?
-my dreams aren't for me, the messages i mean.
-i wonder what it would be like right now if i had just skipped 2006. [travesty]
-my head head feels like its going to break open in an unexpected place.
-i cut off all my hair.
-i trust.


im in a weird way. its been a long time since, well, since there have been marks to explain. its been hard, i think about it everyday. he tells me its not worth it. i tell him he doesnt understand. he just smiles and say im too beautiful to be doing that shit. he gives me butterflies and i focus on the fluttery feeling rather than the itchy finger one. im lucky. but im also weak. i dont want to think about relapse i dont want to relive or even remember the alcohol burn of a white hospital. cream colored dapakote, tiny pink seroquel. twitch. but its ok. im sure im stronger than i give myself credit for. but nights when im all alone wide awake and thinking too much all too fast well those are the perfect nights for bad decisions.

its ok.

the down always leads back to ups.


hang on. hang on. hang on.

being in a coma - easier than you think kids

i sleep like the dead. waking up in the morning is like dragging myself out wet cement. my head is a thousand pounds, my brain is screaming at my limbs to keep me still, [she prefers dreaming to reality], and i have to think really hard to figure out where i am exactly and why is it so dark if its daytime?

anyway. i dream.
and i am frustrated because the one last night is getting away from me. with the dog needing to go out, and me being distracted by the weather, then jose comes home for lunch and all the damn little tidbits are slipping. i remember:

-the ocean with all the people floating in it. some were dead and some weren't. apparently thats how people would travel. they would lay in the water and float to another place. anchored to their legs were cabinets and suitcases. i remember floating around and hearing a family cry because their father was dead and they were clinging to his bobbing body for dear life.
-back on land trying to get my family to pack so they could leave the island they were on. there was a huge cabinet and i watched my mom and dad crawl into the impossibly small drawers and settle in for the journey. i was shoveling in jewelry telling the person helping me dont steal any of this, she has it all weighed she will know and the wedding ring is the most important. i look at all the jewelry and keep pushing into the drawers.
-the diner. there was a diner that was more like a jail? you would go into the first part of it, like a capsule, and feel air whooshing around you. then you went into the main part where you sat at a table with another person. the tables would decide who to keep. both time i was in the diner the chains wrapped around the other person and i walked out. it was terrifying.


shit. i cant remember much else of it. it was another dream i had the homesickness for. i swear it hurts like real life. i wake up and throughout the day ill get these pangs of sadness, like ive lost a good friend, or ive moved a million miles away from a warm comforting place. its the damndest thing.

its been a real financial struggle lately. money has a way of aging you slash killing you a little inside. sigh.

i started painting the big giant piece yesterday. its coming along.






its a rough draft as of now. the rabbit will be filled and detailed. the clouds will be thicker and more colors will be used at the bottom. from where the pink clouds top is and up i will be spray painting the entire upper part a patent leather black frame and all. then using butcher paper ill create stars by punching holes and using a stark white. on top of THAT ill be painting out solar system planets. the planets themselves wont go onto the frame theyll be contained. i think ill love that contrast and the whole fucking with perspective. i gotta tell you. im really loving this one.

work has been mind numbing. if it wasnt for the weirdos i know and love there i would paint the walls with my brains. leash yells at callers, navi makes crack coffee and jaymes makes me want to punch him in the face. saviors.

mostly its this




the dog is staring at me. fine we'll go walk in this pea soup travesty of bipolar weather that is san antonio tonight.


[grump]

was i sleeping

have i slept