there's a better way to say certain things

but never the right amount of time.
[rush]
holy shit have i forgotten how to type? has it been this long?
my fingers fumbling and me tripping balls on something he dropped into my mouth while i dyed my hair. was it that kind of night. maybe so. maybe the taste of vanilla coke made me ignore the consequences as i swallowed. the dye washes out and as with every attempt i'm new and changed refreshed in the high illogical mirror in my little bathroom. its foggy and i'm looking intently. scissors cross my mind, too much trouble. then my house is too small and cold an quiet and now i'm here in the warm loving arms of the interweb trying to find my footing. i couldn't stay there, left to pace and lay awake and pick at my couch.
nights are a challenge again. overwhelming and long. they aren't for sleeping. not to me. just stretches of dark time and nothing on the tv. books i've already read scattered and i haven't done my homework how could i focus at a time like this anyway.
the only thing i seem to do consistently is go to work. heres me, wired on shots of expresso and chocolate, staring. people flow in and out. control your children please. [yea right] heres me in a state, learning names of people ill never really know and making coffee coffee coffee coffee. its fun work, i should say. but repetitive in its actions. my hands flick off caps, shake water from things, hit the buttons.
[what was i even talking about before.]
cant keep track you see. this night, maybe im coming down. im losing energy fast. im confused. my friends send me cryptic texts, with words in the wrong order, theyre drunk somewhere, theyre lost, something about killing things then abrupt cut offs and stretches of silence. i need answers from certain people, but it doesnt seem as important to them. welcome back paranoia.
oof, these pills, what color were they? my body feels floaty.
the other night i went to a club, one of my old haunts you could say, from a different time. i drank until the lights swam and the boy i was with was dead meat. im an attacker lately. a destroyer? something. im something. its just unclear right now. in and out and me the next morning with that wonderful devastating feeling in my stomach. cant eat. too nervous, cant fight back, its funnier this way.
do you get it? i dont. i just miss the flow and bustle of the words and the truth that they imply. you wouldnt lie to me would you he asks me. i look back at him and almost cock my head in amusement. boys. they look at you funny when they think your not looking. personal questions and awkward touches. fun fun fun.

i should do this every night.

maybe then i could go back and edit for dramatic effect and get some goddamn sleep.

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]