invisible monsters, old people, and being a shlump

i've been alive 8307 days.
i've been able to talk and read for 7577 days.
i've been in and out of school for 6537 of those days.
and where am i?
what do i have to show except unfinished paintings, a mutilated right arm and blogs.
[the word pride runs screaming from the room here]
and im left laughing at all the wonderful nonsense that is being alive and this age in the year 2008.
didn't people see the new millennium as us in flying cars with robots and shit.

goodness.

i've been planning a piece of performance art for months now and recently have come into some funds for it. im hoping to talk to a few people buy some last minute items and gather up the courage to squeeze into a dress in time for the fall. to my conservative and fascist friends. forgive me. but its gonna be something else. ill post a date soon.

i was watching something today and saw a group of old people eating and i couldnt help but feel a little sad and scared. they were shaking and smiling and reaching and just being old. i shook. i cringed and i wondered what it feels like to have crepe for skin and space heaters for a mouth. they break my heart, old folks, they really do. they look so lost sometimes, like they dont know what they might be doing here, and whats the camera for son?
[i really really dont want to be old]


im re-reading invisible monsters. i could live in that book.
[but it makes me want to take alot of pills and throw gauze and mesh over my head]

i dont think there has been a day this year that i havent talked to a complete asshole.
[fucking bullshit.]

tim and eric is not a good show and youre a ballsack for liking it.

we were coming home the other day and there was bird in the street. i put it in a box and took it to the vet. i was a little disgusted that i felt better about what i had done than having any real concern for the bird and what happened to it.

last night ambien failed me and i ended up sitting in bed awake till 7. tom on the other hand, who took the other half was mumbling about trees and burgers and asking why all these people were in the apt. sheesh.

i need a 40 and someone to punch.

insert me throwing my arms in the air in frustration.

fuck.

i need

-to calm down
-to move. soon. gotta get the hell out of this city. SOON.
-to stop pacing.
-to stop chaining.
-someone to have my back in this.
-a breath, a pause, a moment of so this is what it feels like to figure out the everything.
-to stay away from the computer.
-paint. NOW.
-brushes. YESTERDAY.
-canvas. [please]
-cheaper outlets.
-you to stop staring at me and start scooping water out of this sinking ship.
-to stop reading about other people and feeling jealous. they're just other people.
-to realize that the face in the mirror is me and not a stranger.
-cigarettes. i just ran out. FUCK.

when i shake my head

tiny splintery pieces of glass inside of it make noises like the ocean.

ouch. [go away]



i just woke up.
i had a dream.
points to remember:

-dawnelle and her hair and her body and her clothes. us pulling fabric from the walls and her voice snippety and tight. she said i could have anything i wanted and i took too much.
-the assignments buried in glass tubes in the cool soft sand near the abandoned amusement area. i looked through the half fallen wall and saw the burned out shells of helicopters and and poles like fingers coming from the ground.
-answering the phone and hearing his voice, smooth and low and sweet telling me to put her on the phone put her on right fucking now.

strange.

on more serious a note:
my parents are in manila right now and the tail end of a typhoon just lashed over them. alot of people have already drowned. my dad sent me a txt saying everything was fine and of all things asking me if the cats were ok, but i cant help but worry. im an old lady that way. uuurg. why did they have to go to the Philippines.
i hope theyre ok.

hungover

jesus christ on the dance floor. its so fucking early.

me = not a morning person.

fuckit. lets roll.

yesterday was a day full of anger, blasphemy, falling off chairs, baking, and liquor.

first of all, my dream:
i was a kid again. like 12. it was my first day of, what, 8th grade? i'm getting off the bus and falling into a sea, and absolute sea, of other kids. all of them in the white polos and khaki skorts and pants of the ol SAISD. were getting herded into a giant building. and it isnt until i'm inside that i realize just how big it is. its only walls and a ceiling. a huge red barn like thing. and i somehow end up in the middle of the concrete floor, barely able to breathe for all the fucking people in there with me. i look up. the walls look metallic and the ceiling is so high. i feel very small and scared. and suddenly i don't notice the chattering students anymore. all i can see is the ceiling and the walls and all i can sense in the vastness of it all. it wasn't until a boy grabbed my hand and told me to look, look, the windows are opening that i came back. and even then when i turned to see the blue square through the shifting metal plate i woke up.

[i had another dream very quickly after this but its to weird to write. notes: it was me, a baby, bobby flay, martin scorsese and we were making a movie. too bad i kept dropping the baby and making out with bobby flay. anyway...]

so after waking up completely questioning my existence and the plan and meaning of it all you can probably imagine i wasnt in the best of moods. mix that with the bumbling softly retarded antics of the two boys i live with and you have a stephanie that thinks in crosshairs, sharp edges and the color crimson.

after stomping around and being broody for a few hours i hung some paintings, yelled at my cats, used gods name in vain way too many times and almost died trying to kill dust bunnies. [long story short, i have no sense of balance.]

i snapped at everyone.
i was offensive and combative and mean.
i wondered what was going to happen to me when i turn 83.
and i watched enough VH1 to kill even the most emo kid.


but then i baked two cakes, a whole chicken and some potatoes.
and i felt so goddamned good i could have kissed that creepy man lady whos having a baby.

i stood in my kitchen with a spatula in one hand and a chicken leg in the other and for a tiny instant i thought: hm. maybe i should drop the tough girl narcissistic some kind of artist i have a cause act and just smile and bake and have sex all day. . . .

an instant later i was yelling again. and i had eaten half the chicken.

luckily it was tom's and my big brothers birthday so i grabbed his cake, went over, walked through the door and into a state of drunk no one should ever be in. the little pink circles of the jello shots. the clarity of the milagro [ lime salt shot no please no more]. sheesh. but it was heaven. my brother was laughing and tom was dizzy and there i stood just the same. surrounded by older folks with smart cars and careers and a wii switching from street fighter to mariocart and back again. flashing lights heavy with questions. a girl from phoenix and a guy telling me we should write a book together. lovely.



yesterday was something else.

today i think ill take my sad tired eyes to bed a while. since i havent slept yet. and maybe drink a couple gallons of water.

if you made it this far. if you actually read all of this. your something else. and i would hug you if i could.


goodnight/day

friday nights

don't hold the same meaning they used to.
back when i was too young and stupid to care about anything but where and how we would get the beer, how our friends could get here, and what music we wanted to play as we danced, touched, laughed and shook heads in dizzy unison.
sometimes i really miss the days of broken guitars, breaking up fights and matching outfits to my best friend before really getting into the gritty nightlife that was my formidable years.
go back in time and see stephanie ages 18-20 and you'll know.
but you can only be that careless for so long.
eventually you wake up tired and don't know why. you wonder why the nights get so hard and why you really cant stand the old friends anymore.
[they just buzz and stammer with old jokes long forgotten and thoughts long ignorant]
you feel worn out and silly when you ask for colored drinks at a bar.
you start to think that the person your talking to isn't really listening.
things start coming into new light. [what happened?]
yes yes, i'm only 22 but fuck if i didn't burn out in the years following high school.
am i an old lady?
ive been called a prude. to my face. and its shocking.
ouch.
but im more for a dark beer and a patio than pulsing nothing.
ugh. i need something to occupy my mind. i should buy a puzzle.


shake it off.

lets roll on then.


saw a friend tonight that up until two weeks ago i thought was lost forever.
going to a bookstore and then jims seemed alien.
whats this?
you dont want to go drink or see a movie? you want to talk? did you read my last blog? how did you know. hah. theres funny energy in the air tonight. must just be me.

kids my age right now are getting married, getting pregnant and getting degrees. i think i may have fallen off the train and landed in lamesville. wonderful. but i see a lake ahead and maybe theres some shade and yea i think i could stay here a while. no used rushing the adult situations and the credit cards and the early mornings.
[such motivation]

the men i know are really pissing me off.

ryan bought me a book of dali prints. i now need 45 frames and pronto. i can already see the empty wall in my apartment waiting for them. i could fall asleep every night looking at the wall and aiming my dreams in the right direction.

why do i feel like such a tool for listening to coldplay? hmm.

ah well. its friday. people everywhere are sleepy eyed or in love or drunk or reaching with mental lust or bored at home.

i need to go be one of those people.

stuck

the Sounds are on loud and my fingers need something to do. since im currently out of paint and my brushes have been destroyed by dumbass kittens ill settle here and get comfortable. today has a nice feeling to it. today i hung clothes out on a line, i was held hostage in the shower by a huge fucking roach, i created something for someone online, i heard the voice of an old friend, and i read read read my ass off. my eyes hurt actually.

and now im just sitting here.
wondering what else there is to do but wait for tomorrow and hope it rains money.

that would be awesome.

i wish i could talk to someone right now. get in the car and go to a place with coffee and have them waiting for me at the booth, eager and ready to respond with yes' and heres what i thinks and such. i would look at them from across the table and point out the fact that they twitch a little when they smile or they stutter on a certain word. and there would be a moment of lull which we would fill with stirring hands or the flicker of lighters.
and at the end of the conversation we would leave and the night would be different, we would still see the ghost images of each other in the centers of our vision like bright lights gone.
and im pretty sure our thought processes would have shifted. even slightly.

i wish for strange things.

ill probably just end up going home and playing the xbox, eating twin cherries and sketching dumb little things on scraps of paper i find while fending off kittens needy for cuddles.

i guess thats not too bad actually....

but lately ive been aching for the human connection. that im listening to you and yes i can understand and maybe ill touch your arm while i talk and maintain eye contact kind of connection. its been so long since ive sat with someone. next to someone and known nothing about them. i miss asking questions and not knowing the answers. i miss offending people. i miss them creeping me out and me letting them know it.

but you cant just walk up to anybody and say i like your shoes wanna grab something to eat and by the way im stephanie anymore.

too bad too.

[note: dont misconstrue these statements as me the little girl with stars in my eyes yearning for love. its nothing like that. im talking conversation, intellect and strong opinions.]

as i get older im sure ill have more chances but being a 22 year old stuck in the bar/clubs/star bucks stage of life im doubtful.

besides i hate screaming over music and love getting wasted at bars and im too busy dancing at clubs to care what you have to say and im only ever at starbucks on wed at 4 in the morning.

womp.

who knows maybe tomorrow is the day.

heres to hoping.
heres to you walking up to me and asking the time.
heres to birds scattering in the city.
and me short of breath and an overall felling of impressed.

failed activism, dream, and saying hello to the angels

i was at the ol' SACford the other day, walking on the molten surface that is downtown San Antonio. as i headed across the street i nearly got hit by a car after reading the front of a building that was covered in streamers, paper flowers, golden cutouts and chain. the sign screamed:

Fiesta is Cultural Murder!
Who Do They Think They ARE?!

i walked on. befuddled and a little amused. i came to the follwing conclusion. college kids are idiots.
they grasp and claw and cry out for change, acceptance and a different life. in all they just seem to make mine more annoying. fiesta is fiesta, it means something to our city and just cause you cant get a date to the carnival doesnt mean you have the right to be bitter for no good reason. geez.
so college kids please please please. think.
not everything needs saving.
not everything is a scandal.


that is all.



its too hot for words today people. and this nocturnal animal is up way too goddamn early. i guess i have to make up for sleeping the whole day away yesterday. must be those new pillows. oh i love them.

dream from yesterday:
[im in a waiting room]
there are so many people in here. it smells funny and its hard to move. a man in the far corner of the room waves at something. he has this blank ugly look on his face. his other hand shakes down by his side. tears start to roll down his cheeks. i wave back, maybe its what he needs?
i look away.
the woman next to me starts to make little squeaking noises. i think shes breast feeding. but i dont see a baby. um. she has her face turned away from me but i notice lines that tell me shes smiling. at least someone in this place is happy.
under my feet something skitters and then pops as i apply deadly pressure. my heart. oh its beating faster now. what am i waiting for? the little paper in my hand only tells me that im 45 away from being called.
i start to wish i was i had super human powers.
i need to get out of here. i dont think i need what im waiting for. i stand up and swim through the people blocking my way to the door. every person i pass touches me, pulls at me or says something i dont hear.
i step outside. the air that slaps me in the face is cold and sharp, like it was just released, just made, brand new.
im in the inner part of the city. the buildings are too high, and they have nothing in them. i can see through the windows and i see that theyre only shells. its a ghost town on a movie set and im fucking stuck in the act.
i look down.
at my feet a small baby something is twitching by my shoes, reaching for me with things that arent quite hands. its lying in a pool or sweat and pink goo.
yea, im gonna throw up.
im running now, throwing open windows, kicking down doors, and finally i lay down on a sidewalk.
the sky shifts and the blue goes to green goes to purple goes to black.
i wake up.
it was 10pm.
i woke up sore and hungry and dehydrated. but i had no intention of staying up.
i went back to sleep after eating and watching good eats.

hrm.





so.
today.
i am.

-headachey.
-pleased with myself. for no reason.
-wondering if i could give a stranger a chance.
-looking for new outlets.
-eating rice krispies.
-alone. [perfect]
-standing as i type this.
-wondering why i dont talk to more people.
-anxious. there just feels like theres so much to do, and im stuck here without am idea of where to start.













its been a weird week.

harumph.

save the whales, nuke the children

i read this blog today, some woman trying to save the planet or create awareness or some dumb shit. and she had posted a few excerpts from some recent messages she had received. they troubled me. and made me laugh at the same time:

[posted by some crazy green person who was sterilized at 28]
"Having children is selfish. It's all about maintaining your genetic line at the expense of the planet. Every person who is born uses more food, more water, more land, more fossil fuels, more trees and produces more rubbish, more pollution, more greenhouse gases, and adds to the problem of over-population."

and another, this time by a couple
"[We] live as green a life a possible. We don't have a car, cycle everywhere instead, and we never fly. We recycle, use low-energy light bulbs and eat only organic, locally produced food. In short, we do everything we can to reduce our carbon footprint. But all this would be undone if we had a child. That's why [the husband] had a vasectomy. It would be morally wrong for us to add to climate change and the destruction of Earth."


WHAT THE FUCK??

i especially love the last line of the couples statement.
you know, about how having children is morally wrong and oh yea would add to the fucking DESTRUCTION OF EARTH.
wonderful. [and totally something i would say funny enough]
and you know i've always liked people who go green, most of them anyway. i had just yet to find the crazies in the bunch, till today.
how fucking dedicated must you be to take something like children and compare them to pollution? [or strange for that matter]
me, i don't altogether like children or wish to have any but it has nothing to do with me calculating what they're going to waste or if they might hit a squirrel while they're driving to the store when they're 25 or any wacky ass shit like that.
this is plain ridiculous.
oh and i love love love how the couple is looking for a fucking blowjob with listing their good deeds towards the earth shit. what the hell. yea thanks, but honestly your still just two tiny people probably living in a town of 2,000,000 others who could give a fuck what they did with their lightbulbs. sorry. the blue and green bins are just security blankets and everyone has grown up, maybe you should too.
meanwhile on this womans blog she asks for opinions. some are very interesting. just go read it. it will be in my movers and shakers for a few days.
the blog is called no child left behind and was posted on 6/17

as far as the population goes, bad news. were just plain fucked. people are going to have kids. lots of them. why?
simple.
welfare- the lower class has a gov crutch. and they loooove to exploit it. even if it means squirting out 9 kids. that gleaming check coming at the first of the month is enough for them to tune out the crying.
child support and such- woman have needs, and if it means poking a hole in a condom for a child they dont even want, so be it. basketball players, movie stars and musicians are the prey and heartless money hungry bitches are hidden in the tall grasses of todays society. wonderful.
love- some people just want squishy tiny humans of their own.
accidents- it happens.

one day we'll wake up in a kurt vonnegut inspired world. eyes on the rising numbers and fear in our hearts.
well wait till its too late.
well ask why we didnt do anything sooner.
well cry and scream for someone to fix it.
and in the meanwhile our children will become unwanted pets.

poor us.

but its not like we havent seen the downward spiral for years coming.







on unrelated notes.

ive been very happy lately.
ive been thinking alot about connection. ask me about it.
ive been loving what ive been reading lately.
and ive been dancing to arcade fire. neon bible to be exact.

i think i could just make it this week.

lovely.

6 am

Notes:

fuck bananas.
congratulations lady/man, your having a baby. doesnt mean it isnt CREEPY.
the sun is coming up. ew.
i heard the word BLOG 13 times today. and yes i counted.
thank you wisdom teeth for coming at the worst possible moment. the hole in my gum is a nice touch.
diet coke sucks after the first 3 sips.
my parents house smells friendly.

i should go.

what a disappointing morning.

quickly

i dreamt about kissing a man.
its all i did.

i woke up really wanting to fuck something.

fail

[i blog alot]
[fair warning]




i havent done ANYTHING today.
ive been here. getting a computer tan and drinking wine out of a pretty glass my mother was hiding behind the cheap china.
[lucky for me im a professional snoop]
[on that note ive also found 20$, a picture of me on a huge turtle, and a bunch of weird little metal things that are strewn about the house.]

ive also been doing some lurking here on the internet with my hopes way too high to be reasonable. and true to the unlucky online streak ive been having i found nothing. i must have looked through hundreds of blogs, trying to find someone to read. it sounds funny, but it is what it is. im tired of talking. lets get down to the gritty stinking mess that typing and blogging.
but wait.
i crashed and burned....who are these people and how can i kill them?
[womp]
i dont want to hear about your hair tragedy, or your special night club, or your penis problems.
ugh.

whatev.

im kind of drunk now.
and theres a zombie movie on.
im gonna lie on the couch and wonder what the fuck happened to the world.
ill be bored.
i might fall asleep.
but the whole house is mine right now and it feels good and a little creepy.

[sure im a little depressed that i can only be impressed with a grand total of 3 blogs online. that sure is fucking LAME.]

but hey fuck it
ive got half a bottle of red left
a pair of tired eyes that need gore and the undead
unsteady hands
and a wild imagination to scare me in the dark later.

im preeettty sure im set for the night.

goodnight internet.

you are fucking stupid right now.

approval rejected

yes


-you ARE that annoying.
-you may never find someone who wants to have sex with you.
-you may not see the age of next year.
-if you whine like that all the time, i will call you pathetic.
-i hate it when you call me pet names, so dont.
-your children may be born with something wrong with them.
-99 degrees feels like 2,000.








i wish i was somewhere else.
with someone else.
and trying something new.




[anywhere but here. anyone but you]

retards everywhere. and me without a machete.

Everyday with the questions.
They ask me.
What’s the matter.
How do you feel.
Where’s the salad dressing.

Just a thought: Questions annoy the fuck out of me.

My new favorite day/night time activity is sitting out on the balcony watching fat children and smoking like a chimney. Not all creep like mind you, but something about kids helps me smile. They don’t know just how stupid they are. They fall and scream and bother the shit out of their parents. And you know I don’t think I want any but they seem like strange exotic pets. Like little fleshy balls that roll around and bounce and occasionally sleep. Weird. And fascinating.
I feel very greedy. I’ve been slowly working my way through the deadly sins and have finally settled on this one after finding it fits my sometimes shitty personality a little too comfortably.
I’m thinking that maybe a mosaic is the cards soon. Maybe a little table or even a wall piece and I even thought of using my favorite book and creating a book cover you could never take off. Here I see clay pieces and that glue I hate so much but I’m sure it would be something to watch as particles become images. Like pixels and such to a comp just much more natural.
Another thought: Heat makes me want to slit throats.
People throw me off. They are all so unnerving and scary. Every time I find myself in a lobby or a waiting area I can’t help but wonder why that man is grabbing at that particular place or why that woman won’t just walk over and GET her kid instead of calling his name a billion fucking times while balancing a 6 month old in one arm and a Nintendo DS in the other. I always think I can be a better person than the person I am watching. [Really. It doesn’t matter who you are. YOU HAVE FLAWS. I will find them] In my head I fix their short comings or stand in front of them and yell what the fuck over and over again right into their stupid blank faces. And then sometimes I simply laugh, out loud and very much in real life and the people around me turn my thoughts into theirs and their sights settle on me. But I can’t help it. How do people NOT see that sometimes they can be complete retards? This may be why I’m so angry all the time. Its simple frustration at the ignorance. If you’re fat don’t wear tight clothes. If you’re stupid don’t have children. If you’re bald don’t comb the few sad hairs you have left over the gleaming done of your bad genes. Little steps. Little steps people. Its all you need to do to keep me from breaking into your house and smashing your ceramic clown collection. Just do this for me yea?
I suddenly want cotton candy. A great huge cloud of it. Sticky wonderfulness. [must have been the clown thing]
Today is father’s day. Great. Millions of children get to have just another Sunday.
Oooooh I’m being dark and broody. Hah!
Promo sits right in front of me and meows into my face. I don’t speak annoying cat. She’s out of luck.
I stayed up way to late last night I feel like real shit. [just now I typed ‘feal’ 3 times instead of ‘feel’]
Ugh/fuck/ouch/why is it so goddamned hot in here.
My skin feels like it needs to be peeled off. I think I look in the mirror at least 6 hours a day. Sometimes I talk to myself. What is that spot. Do you feel like shit, cause you look it. Why on fucking earth did you cut your hair? And sometimes I re-enact movie scenes or TV shows. Ok that may have been a little too intimate.
im exhausted now. Sitting here in a blaze of laziness and lukewarm coffee. Somehow this seems right and these keys, well, they feel damn good under my fingertips. Maybe ill find my footing again and show you the colors of what I used to be able to do with this lost time. Maybe my cult following is waiting for me to come back. I can only hope they haven’t drank the kool aid yet or eaten the bullet. We’ll see.
Enough.
Ill back out quietly now.

scorcher

this is probably the 5th time ive written something online today. why would i do such a thing? ive thought about it and i think this time the damage from the every day may be permanent. im backstepping into the cracks again. feeling out places to hide with wary hands and and acid filled stomach with a vendetta against me. my retreat away from people, nearly complete. it burns. but the sting and the bitter taste only mean that if i give it a second to work, ill be too out of it to care.

i love going back over everything my friends write in the interwebs. nice to see how much they have changed as far as the last year or so. i know some wonderful writers.

i want to be home right now. its been a showerless, semi air conditioned, woozy day.

i miss my kittens anyway, and the way chu greets me with crashing feet when i walk in the room.

school is happening soon. im excited. wish class was tomorrow. maybe this time ill actually get through the semester and halfway enjoy it . i still think of my counselor here, giving me the stink eye and asking me just what i thought i was playing at, waiting this long to take charge. people cannot be subtle or soft no matter how hard they try. i sat and looked around his office at his fine arts degrees and his mexican themed color scheme. looking back at him i told him, i just want to register, not talk. and i can do that here right? i may have left with him doubts but at least i left enrolled.

ouch ouch ouch. my fucking head.

i havent blogged in this spot for almost a whole year.

hopefully i can change that.

i use mothwash, sometimes i floss

I've got a family
and I drink cups of tea
I've got nostalgic pavements
I've got familiar faces
I've got mixed-up memories
And I've got favourite places.
[and im singing oh oh on a friday night]

i dont sleep much anymore. hours are wasted with writing and infomercials and cutting and pasting.

ugh. funny taste in my mouth.

ive had several dreams about guns plus bullets plus me.
4 nights ago:
im in prison. im trapped. a man comes into my cell and grabs my arm. he tells me hes here to get me out, that i have to go with him now or its the end. we run out the door and through grey hallways. men are behind us, there yelling and threatening. i cant breathe. im scared. suddenly theyre in front of us. one of the men grabs a gun and somehow i have one too. i shoot him twice and shoot the other men down too before realizing theres someone breathing on my neck. he turns me around and shoots me in the chest 4 times. the next thing i remember im in a hospital and the nurses are telling me not to look. i find a mirror and see the gaping holes in my chest. i have no breasts. i stick my fingers into the biggest hole. i can feel my heart beating. i wake up.
2 nights ago:
im living in a house with a group. were nervous and shifty and something is going down. something horrible. im walking from room to room. in the living room i find a girl i know, sitting in a chair and working a silver candy machine. she turns the lever and a small red square comes out. it smells sweet and sugar clings to my hand as i throw it across the room. i hear scratching and moaning. zombies. its whats outside. my heart sinks and breaks in ways i never thought possible. i walk through the house. the rooms seem smaller. the halls are narrow. and so white. im in a bathroom now. i know that the things are getting into the house. i feel frantic. theres a gun in my hand. its cold. the metal sings to me. i put it to my head and breathe out. i dont even hear the shot. as i fall back colors flood and swirl. magentas and reds. blues at the edges. black seeping. im in slow motion. as my head hits the floor and i feel my bone fragments and brains. its a maddening feeling. im going insane. i consider shooting myself again, but my arm wont listen to me. people are in the bathroom now. they pick me up and put me outside. im alone. i wake up.


early morning conversations are scary.
the opening up and the scratchy eyes and the way i feel my mouth twist when im saying something awkward or gross.
its something else. something deeper than the usual howdy doo of the midday.
you cant have these with everyone.
you cant remember them when you wake up.
they just linger in the back parts of the basement of your mind.
fun.

too bad sometimes they bring out the little pinpricks of the past. the raised scars. the lost letters.

like i said. you cant have these with everybody.


ive come to the conclusion that i have a real problem with sex. ive been called a prude lately. ouch. its not my fault that ive grown tired. not my fault that most people are gross to me. its not that i dont want to have sex. i like sex. but something about it and the whole dance. it makes me wince. i think about what it used to be to me. a game. a little toy that i could toss around and flaunt. back when being young and stupid meant not giving a shit how late i was out or what the consequences were. i was an idiot. ive lost the mysterious and seductive part that is love in the physical. the fondest memories of which are tainted and followed up by a bummed cigarette. no i havent been up and down the block. im no whore. im no easy catch. im just wanting something that sex cant be right now. tmi? well too bad. sigh.


its almost 7 now. i remember waking up at this time. now im left begging sleep to come and fighting the migraine thats always crouched at the top of the hour. cheers.


heres to the click of these keys. heres to my lover asleep and unaware. heres to the smoke and the sunrise and the cats at my feet.

lovely.

take me out of the coma doctor

last night i had a very strange dream.
im pretty sure i had a glimpse of hell.

i was in a group. we were huddled close together and there was a woman leading us. we were in a vast empty city. everything was gray. everything was silent. she told us we were about to get a heads up of sorts. our leader, dressed to match the bricks behind her.
she said.
this is where you might come after. this is one of two places where your always welcome. it just depends on how you choose.
she leads us into a building. its cold and damp and nothing moves. shower curtains hang from the walls. she moves them aside as she walks by them.

what i see in the holes cut into the walls is too horrible to write about.

some points worth remembering:
-the smell. the smell of people laying with medicine moving in them. the way it came to me in waves.
-the one person i never in my life could ever believe would go to hell.
-the look on the girl next to me when she found her mother.
-pulling the iv out of his arm, just hoping he would wake up. the black stuff that seeped out.


after the main part of the dream i went to a bar in purgatory. swear.

i woke up in a hurried daze. pulling at my arm, hoping i wasnt in one of those holes.

it was 8:00 pm.

i was almost asleep for 20 hours.


jeezus.

the past few days have been the most worrisome yet. an unhealthy dose of 151 and weird people from my apt complex hasnt helped. im pretty sure tom is concerned. but there isnt much anyone can do when the feeling gets to me. the other morning i was wasted beyond all repair and found my way into the woods near my apt complex with zach and some of his friends. seriously, people live in the trees out there. we found a litle city. it scared me and made me sad. i stole a bicycle wheel and a fire extinguisher. how perfect. i remember bits from the morning, most of it is me chasing them to keep up and getting cuts on my feet and fingers. ill never forget how ghetto swiss family robinson it all felt. the trash bags clinging to wood pieces and the wire ladder leading to someones idea of home. the swing, the cat grave, the path and the broom. strange. i then proceeded to go home and throw up while muttering "people in the trees" to tom as he tended to me. what a morning.

yep.

only certain folks have experiences like that. in a sick way im blessed.

hrm.

i just realized ive only been awake for 10 hours.

lovely.

ugh

bad things a foot.

cats getting bit by snakes. circumcision. migraines.

wonderful.

good thing it rained or my night would be a total loss.

sometimes

i dont know exactly what im feeling. one minute im at home. getting drunk. again. one moment im in a car with an old friend. one moment im done with working. one moment its 5 in the morning. again.

sometimes you just want to walk down a misty road. you want to feel the swell of air a car leaves right as it flies by you. sometimes its the same. only with a person. that moment your hair moves with the wind. the smell. god that smell. someone else. someone going home or to a bar or to a another person.

ay. thoughts.

there are times when you just want to be touched. on a dance floor, on a sidewalk, on a bed. those times. those passionate nothing times. its easy to regret those times. but hard to forget. people fuck, they kiss, they fight they die. people are alot of things. but they are never insignificant. no matter how hard you tell yourself they are.

we drive. its dark. its cold. maybe windy. first stoplight. close your eyes lean back and open them. gray of a car ceiling, black of a starry sky. red light green light. decisions are made in moments like these. a thousand thoughts and no time. second stoplight.you still feel the air but all the windows are closed. you decide... i better not. i better not. i cant. im weak. but the sky still says yes. over and over.

what to do.


who to call.

they cant possibly understand.

people fuck. people kiss. people lie. and they never ever have the decency to even look you in the eyes while they do any of it. its a game. too much fun. a thrill. a fleeting moment of existence.

who knows where it all ends up. the trash pile of filth that is memories.

fun fun fun. fun.


till then im still reeling.

ive just discovered something.


im one of them.

lately

I am
-trying not to feel bad about anything i did to him. not even feeding the dumpster his junk.
-attempting to slay the stafford dragon of sallie mae to in turn rescue the damsel that is my education and future.
-laughing at the last line.
-trying to explain to my mother what a BLOG is.
-starving, shaking and smoking too much today. those commercials were right depression hurts.
-missing my dog. shes right here and we both seem to know she cant come home with me.
-worried about tom. hes working too hard. supporting me. trying to find a way to love me when im so goddamned combative. hes a trooper. i love him in ways unknown to most.
-waiting to go home so i can finish that new painting. its so pretty. urrrg.
-dreaming of women. alot.
-tired.

ive been trying so hard to get work. lets hope im successful soon. we finally got cable. i am now a hermit. too much americas next top model marathons. their ruining my life. good eats, no reservations, project runway. kill me kill me kill me.

heres to the stomachache and the headache.

heres to the chipping nail polish on my fingers and giselles pictures from another country with the works of my idol. heres to the acrylic on my jeans. yes i am one of those girls.

i should have said thanks career point. then i wouldnt have to be so poor. just embarrassed.

hah. what an ending.

deep breath

right back atcha douche bag.
right. back. atcha.

stephanie is upset.
why?
becuase of liars and their cunt girlfriends.
because of stuff. inanimate stuff.
because of tiny dicks and premature ejaculators.

you know. that guy i used to live with abe.

fuck him. FUCK HIM.

that is all.