mas

more from me. arent you excited.

in between the existential complaining and bipolar ranting im a real person.

[not an object]

today the customers at work were pissed off and screaming for blood and sales. sundays are fantastic for us at the ol book store. magazines and children flying everywhere. attitudes are super inflated and pulsing and acid drips from questions and in my cafe we get exact change. after 3 hours you lose your smile and start grumping. at least i do. heh. stomping around and slowly gaining momentum in my impatience. thank god for the people i work with. well some of them anyway. my co workers are so fucking weird! but they read and they invite me out and they talk and its like none of us fit the crowd we cater to. she's in paperchase crying but still amazing with her smiles as she tells us about the asshole who told her off and us discussing what we could do to him to make him pay, he's at info musing and probably trying to invade minds, she's in the cafe with me singing bad 80's music and creeping on the military boys. and by the end of the day im light and laughing again. buzzed on coffee and the things they said. comfort.

today wasnt too bad at all. i was bracing myself. slipping in my optimism, but footing was to be found. neat.

i need to paint and sleep. bad.

yessss.


my parents came over after work. why? to take showers. ???? they poked around and decided where to put the stuff they were moving in. my mom broke my kitchen sink somehow and couldnt turn the water off. they talked to my cats. somewhere in there i fell asleep on my couch and when i woke up they were kissing me goodbye, all my dishes were done, there was coke in the fridge, snacks on the table, and i had a full tank of gas. huh. they are like strange wonderful elves. hah. my parents are absolutely magical. i cant exist without them. they take care of me and i fluster them in funny ways. we are a dysfunctional always amusing little team.

[by the way]

i have tons of work ahead of me. me and tom are working on a concept series [secret] and hope to have a show up and running in late november. im doing installations, hes doing paintings and prints. hes already started on some of his. im still trying to rally thoughts and find motivation. the things i start i almost always destroy before they are finished. i need to work on this. but im busy and it keeps me in a sane and steady way. i hope this works out. if our connection doesnt come through, ill do the damn thing myself. im a smart girl. i can make this happen. the breakthrough is here and within reach. no time to waste.

its just been nice lately. ive been good lately.

its working out.

all of it.

it kind of has to now you know?

halo 17

i need this album.

right now.

today

i woke up and dyed a girls hair.
i sat on a bench and told him how it was.
i fell at work.
i made one hell of a cappuccino for some italian guy. he loved it.
i drove too much.
i thought about acid.
i wished for an ac.
i bought some wine.
now im here.

dear me

ladies and gentlemen gather round
hurry leave your children
in a forest perhaps
i kid


i dont live in my house anymore. i stray. jump in my sleepy cranky car and race into the night. fuming gasping and sometimes smiling. drunk and sick on the wave the absolutely endless wave of thoughts emotions and lingering rattlings. something shakes me and i flee. i think my walls are moving. time to go. im frantically texting. its too late for people too be awake but somehow this rational thought slips through cracks in the hungry pulsating brain in my heavy head. need. i need.
oh i cant stop my hands. they want to curl up on themselves. they keep moving.
you know this feels like disaster but come on its not.
calm down.
but why? why should i calm down? i feel like running. maybe fighting a bear. tearing paper. eating markers. slapping a nun.
its everything just to keep myself in this chair. to keep my chest from rising and falling to quickly. its too much to just sit.
all my mind wants to do is talk. oh god just shut up for one blissful second. stop turning over and go to sleep. leave me alone. evil creature. let me rest. let me have one day.
but no i only see reruns. of every waking second as far back as i can go when im not dreaming. its analysis time! its time to break it all down! i know its 4 in the goddamned morning but shit lets do this! shes so hyped up my brain. too excited. me and her are not on the same level. and yes that is possible.
fuck fuck fuck.

i stopped typing to light a cigarette and got lost in thought. its been ten minutes.

well.

im drowning in questions. i want to ask so many questions to people i cant seem to get to stay in the room with me. im chasing people around with a stick. they think i want to kill them but i only want to show them my cool new stick. get it? a metaphor? they dont give me many chances, as i usually do hit first and behave later. seeee???? i dont make sense. im flabbergasted at myself. sometimes i say things and immediately re run the sentence and laugh. whaaaat? did i just say? oh god. no wait come back. i meant.... fuck it. i feel like im falling into the arms of a mass of people who with no thumbs. they can only really push me around barely keep me up and never really grasp me. even when im frantically clawing at them.



the people i choose arent built for this.

im not built for explaining it either.

my blogs sound way more poetic when im going over them in my head in the car ride over.

questions ???? am i really that much? you cant just give in to me? i think im quite charming and interesting. you just think its best to keep ten feet.
ouch ouch ouch.

first time readers this is pretty normal. dont fret for your heroine.

im just lonely. for a while there i wasnt. i was pleased and full on something shiny and new and not real sure but yea. now its just me again. and im no good at reasoning with myself. i want the sweet words and hands to hip its going to be ok cause im here kind of feelings you only get with another [adjective] individual. short bursts cant sate you for long. you just end up with the sore your mouth tastes funny and whats this banging in my head oh great its morning get over it feeling.
thats my feeling. i should patent that shit.
i INVENTED that shit maybe.
[see im in your car but not your life]
[snarls are ripping from my throat and im just plain tired of giving]



give something to me.
give me words. give me courage. give me grace. give me something to just get through being this.
it all pours out so fast i really cant keep track.
there should be a set way to do this.
to purge.
music, places, touches and taste. thats all people are to me now. they stream in and out and i have nothing left but associations and confusing subconscious reactions.

madness.

i dont mean to be so

but now im not sure what i was saying.

pause in universe takes place and internal dialogue begins

fuck these stupid nails, typing is a travesty


jesus christ on the dance floor. another 4 am.


a list

i am-

-exhausted
-hoping i have a job still
-hating cigarettes
-waiting for the big pay off
-in need of peppermint tea
-finally seeing that he doesnt want me at all
-saddened by this fact
-still optimistic. fiercely and stupidly optimistic sometimes
-living in fantasies
-hopeless
-anxious. as always
-feeling foolish for crying at work today
-trying to wish an ac window unit into existence so i can get some goddamned sleep in my own house
-wondering why i havent left this state yet
-picking at scabs
-guilty over giving in
-missing the more important moments
-logging hours
-dreaming in the colorful bursts that push me through
-wanting to play scrabble with someone anyone ... anyone?
-again, exhausted

time goes on. i feel like a repeat of someone who failed just as badly. like im playing paint by numbers and somehow i mistook purple for green and now my forest looks like baby shit. i am pretty fucking frustrated. asking how did you get here stephanie did you think you were special and didnt have to jump hoops like this time it was different? hilarious. same old situations and me without the transcripts to find patterns and clues. just a blank sheet to tear apart when i finally said wait a minute fucking shit.
and you thought what?
the words would change?
the touches were anything more than suggestions and impulse?
that the score would bump and you would win?
laughable.
you had the clues all along. go back a few years and read your own words.
seat filler.
terrible thing.
basket case.
now pause. and pick up pieces. crazy glue? are you fucking serious. nice. get to work. no really. get to fucking work and FIX THIS. what are you going to sit around an be sad? for who them? nope. no maam. not tonight. not tomorrow. its time to rebuild and move in that magical direction.

forward.

youre much to old for this. too deserving and too bright to sit around and sink and wish. time to make it. and this time you will. i promise. ill take care of you. i know you best and i can feel the wind on your face and you must know that there is time and opportunity for that warmth to come back. hide now if you need to. get rest if you must.

but in a few hours youre waking up.

and this time its going to be something.

trust me.

and just like that

my words are meaningless.

hello down. i guess i was waiting for you.

current favorite song: cologne cerrone houdini by goldfrapp

sunlight in your eyes. and whatnot. so i found out today that my parents are moving in with me. fantastic. yes the two of them and my dog and all their stuff in my tiny one bedroom duplex and me holding the phone after my mom tells me trying to work through the emotions whirling. crap. crap crap. crap. its like im doomed to not be alone. heh. funny. almost.
come on this will be ok. youre fine. its ok.

no.

i have to go hyperventilate now.

approach with caution? yea the fuck right.

i always swan dive.


arms out, head back. breathe.



so theres light now? hm. i guess i still dont have it figured out. but i do know that something has shifted.
wow i feel good.
ive been getting up, getting out, smiling. flying. i swear i havent touched the ground lately. maybe it has to do with my place, the space ive created and cared for thats just mine. maybe its physical. maybe its just in my head. i think ive cleaned my attic. a little. freeing up some space for new shiny things and blowing dust off rusty forgotten ones. cleaning. digging. finding things out about this once scared terrible girl. i used to be so terrible. raging. fighting. wicked banter and me left with the prize that doesnt taste all the way right. but now. im here.walking and looking you in the eyes. even though you hardly look back at me.
[brave]
theres little doubt.

all the things that have made me. all the shit ive been through and touched and said. im the product of a whirlwind, mixed emotions, and plenty or sharp metal. yet im brilliant against the background, emerging with fists tight and guns abandoned. ready.

but you cant shake people and make them see. its hardly that easy and you only end up damaging them.

[i once thought]

it would be fitting. that i would come out of this cloud and find the others have left. but what a happy surprise, to find them waiting.

[and im smiling down only to myself]
kind of happy, i float on. a change so strange i didnt even notice, just ate it and ran with it. just enjoyed it and thought that i had finally found the spot i was supposed to stop and take as my own.
hm.
and yes there are dark spots. well. maybe not dark, but grey. its hard to find out that youve invested poorly. again. your trying to be reasonable and take a stand but you keep tripping and falling. thats the feeling. as i said earlier. falling.
[there are moments i dont know what to do with myself]
i sit at home and twitch. i get nervous alot. my masochism whines, i havent paid as much attention to it as before. it senses a rift and cries out. but now its easier to ignore. i cant afford new scars, dont need the blood. cant spare anymore t shirts and towels. and while i pace i sing instead of trace the bright marks. neat.
i sit across from someone and im reaching reaching reaching. and i know, i know, i play the words in my head. i dont forget that kind of twinge easily.
dont get attached lady.
[sadly, ive grown familiar]
yet even with that the incredibly new optimist in me smiles at you. she stares and asks questions. she listens and laughs. she touches and dances away and back again. shes silly and taken and wants you to wake up. she tries. shes trying.
maybe one day shell get the real prize. maybe all this really is worth it.
that flutter has to be worth it.
[moving on]
up.
i think im writing a book. yes. i am. with the philippines, california, downtown san antonio and blades. it might just be for me.
come on borders. give a little back.

fuck. im wired. on something sparkly and refreshing.

i cant stop moving.

and i cant wait for tomorrow night. people, a stage, cheap beer, and smoke.

bring it. monday night. give me that pounding sense of yesss.

i know how she feels

something is wrong with today. its sticky and too warm and heavy and i cant get the golden retriever smell out of my nose. ive been driving too much lately. i knew it would be something when i had a car. knew i would run every chance i get. fleeing from my own home, im getting in the car. engine come on, help me escape. but i always end up somewhere i just want to leave again. its tough. walking talking playing normal and somehow im doing it but inside im going bat shit crazy. theres no structure, so listen up. today was terrible in many ways. funny in some. laughable maybe. the switch in position, the strange return of him, work and the angry phone calls, me slipping and falling. ugh. i saw her face and as i walked to my car i remembered that it was years ago and oh boy were roles reversed. i just laughed out loud. i almost died on the highway today. it would have been messy and loud but at least it would be final.
where am i going?
why is there fog everywhere today. i only talk in riddles now. cant say things in proper form or context. inside jokes and cryptic texts. what is she thinking. will she ever just say yes or no? probably not. its all too much. negative nancy. silly girl.
im tired of this already and i need a shower and a shotgun.

out.

kittens

my stray had kittens

mom- sun dust
kittens- tessla, leader, ham, cricket, chewy


congrats

singing in public, mass horror, 2 days off, warm floaty feeling, and wondering where the prize is

cereal boxes get thrown across the room when stephanie digs and digs and comes up with sticky hands and a stupid nonsensical cardboard token. [give me plastic robots and tiny glass fish] anything. i wont swallow it. promise.

the last few days have been. nice.

people make me feel weird. i hate it. like falling.
i just cant seem to quit smoking.
im obsessed with other peoples relationships.
trying to work out knots and tangles.
trying not to cut off all my hair and move to kansas.
ill raise pigs.
anything.
today i got home and promptly fell into drawing on the strips of canvas on my living room floor. writing. cutting. i put on turn on the bright lights. i danced i sang. i sat in the middle of my kitchen and thought about food. trying to will it into existence. nothing. i guess i dont have powers. well certain ones. whatever. i went into the bathroom armed with yellow rubber gloves and ajax and scrubbed and sang more. yelled at the cats when they decided to knock over every jar of paint water in my house. i laid in bed and hated all four windows in my room. startd to miss the bed i wont have soon. tom gets home and im in a weird mood. he doesnt say much to me. i dont think were talking. he leaves and comes back with beer. i fly into a rage and leave. now im here. my eyes burn and i hate the internet. hate that i have all this to say but the words dont match.
yet im smiling.
memories of bars and stupid illogical sheets and shaking so hard in front of the small group while i butchered when you were young. drunk. watching the couple across from me touch and inside im kind of flying. driving at night. driving during the day. getting ready to work again. ugh. at least i got paid to get whiplash. dont ask. simple things are all i have. the more complex part of it all the part that maybe i want is still unreachable or impossible. im still a little breathless and time is ticking wait time is streaming. ouch whats wrong with the air? its stale and much too warm.
this is a bit much.
i cant blog with their voices behind me.

enough. i have to keep this warmth. i have to keep this.

drive home.

saturation

i have to be up and about in few too many hours. go to bed? pssshhh.
[quick! pull away from the deep spiraling black. think up up up positive up]
things that save me:
-the little red head at work with the bad free style spirit and the ability to make on hell of a cup cake. giddy up.
-coffee with a double shot and caramel and 3 raw sugars.
-my girls, piglet and the jet. my little warriors. my protectors. my spazztastic entertainers.
-recent realizations.
-cigarettes.
-vanilla soy
-the above but with cocoa pebbles.
-late nights.
-driving.
-my duplex with all the lights on and the tv blaring elephant shell.
-drawing little things at work and leaving them in weird places.
-beans in the hoppa.
-black hair dye. sometimes.
-music music music [currently tokyo police club, goldfrapp, the young dubliners, amanda fucking palmer, pj harvey, and elliot smith]
-believing in people that are miles away and still moving. don't look back honey.
-thomas.
-makeovers.
-deep thought in the afternoon hours. when i finally wake up.
-my dreams.
-lunch breaks.
-warm words.

im in combat currently. fighting against the down part of the manic versus the depression. depression is up by alot right now. foul. ugly. sticky. it hurts. bad. and somehow i know i have to turn things around in my head. arms up. guns drawn. fingers itchy im waiting for a moment to move. holding my breath im underwater. fleeing from familiar faces and an even more familiar pain. i hate this. i want to turn my phone off. i want to call in to work and never go back. i want to get in my car and drive just drive to the ocean and run into it. laughing in a way that isnt funny at all. hm. images pour ever and spill into every crevasse of the home that is my brain. the attic has a leak. i have no one to call and im no handy [wo]man. sigh. im up all night. but instead of pacing and chattering im staring and forgetting how to work my xBox. giving up im laying on the couch and the cats crawl on me. maybe they know whats going on. theyre trying to revive me. reminding me to feed them. telling me its going to be ok. but im useless and i reach to touch them but theyve been gone for hours. at work i cant simply cant hold my smile anymore. my regulars tilt their heads and i can only shrug and say its nothing. doesnt matter. and i disappear into the back room to sit and contemplate the dishes. im exhausted i just want to sleep. the bed is huge. the blankets tangle with my hair and im sore everywhere. this is like a bad wellbutrin commercial. im that girl sighing and crying in them. i see myself on there in these commercials for the medication i cant afford. do it yourself doesnt work well with bipolar. ouch ouchie ouch. the things in the list above help. but somehow im always starving for oxygen and scratching my skin. the week just started. awesome.

lets do it.

the basics

i am always awake at this hour.


gross. why cant i write?

im sick with jealousy.
confused by stupid kids.
feeling anxious.

ive been dreaming. like always. these things that happen to me in them are devastating when i wake up. i can do so much in them, im so much more in them, then the alarm has been going off for hours and im late. again. the drive kills the smoke and mirrors, getting out and up into sunlight and customer service ive lost the last of what i can remember as escape. the last one was strange. a huge crater turned amusement park, fake rivers that were almost dry, earthy dark rooms with glass boxes in the centers and the man with the pulleys. suit and tie sunday best. games i dont understand. ugh, its already gone. sleep will come. eventually even to me. i always hope it will bring water meeting purple skies and the boy i inevitably fall for every night. different setting same idea. take me out of this. get me as far from waking as i can get. coma deep i am level and pure. except when i dream about clowns. thats never good news.
[hrm]
mostly its people i cant deal with. this city is so small. too fucking packed with uncomfortably familiar faces and used oxygen. the people i know drive me bat shit. tempers and alcohol. pot and accusations. nonsense.
and you, god im so tired of having to deal with you. no not you darling. not yet but you. you call me and tell me you cant be my friend anymore. that youre in love with me, whatever that means to me anymore, that you think im silly and too loud and that ive broken your heart. you just came back remember? we just fixed the last stupid thing and now this? fantastic. like we were anything to begin with. im left holding the phone and the expression on my face must have been something since tom quickly gets up and leaves. rage. shock and awe. a terrible amusement at the sheer idiocy that is the human race. people are walking talking travesties. simple and ape like almost always. throwing shit and shit fits and passing off lust and sudden bursts of anger as passion and grace. amazing. im shaking my head and almost laughing. it just all seems so silly now. your ridiculous. and i wont miss it. i cant afford to miss you, boy, we had a good go but this is too much. frustrated. ugh. after that fun moment i make a friend come over and saturate him in music and my second hand smoke as i pace and rave and tremble. while these things are lunacy they still shake me. people will always get under your skin. they leave things in your home or in your mind and theres just no way to clear it all out at once. if only. i think im done stringing along while people say they might make time. i dont have enough for myself.







[i hope your enjoying creeping around my blog by the way.]
me, i always love the attention.


god how will i drive home like this.
riled.

i need her soft voice and my girls and my blankets.

word.

put me to sleep

in this state i may fight.


its so early.

how do people give in so easily. is it so hard to say no? so hard to put forth effort and realize that physicality is simple and emotion is strength?

who knows.

ive always been a fighter. bared teeth and knuckles and me reaching towards your face.

[direct hit]

i feel more powerful, seeing images of weak and destructive people.

for as destructive as i can be, i have the sense of personal respect so rare these days.

just say hello darling, dont slip.

sleep is attacking me.
[deep and black and soothing]

fine.

just this once.

to be resistant, the other night and the ones that followed, and dancing away the week

smoke smoke smoke

stomach turning.

ouchie.

i have a slightly desperate look in my eyes right now.

too much in my head. i can't get started.

who the fuck designed my duplex? who was the asshole who put the mirror in the bathroom just a tiny bit higher than normal so i have to be on my toes when im trying to get ready in light speed for work? makeup becomes a workout. all the outlets are sideways. the ceilings are too high goddamnit. theres no vent for the stove so the fire alarm goes off while im cooking and im left fanning the beeping thing and prying open painted windows. i stomp through the small space, befuddled, glancing at the parts of it that don't fit or make sense. it smells like grandma in there. [no one else has acknowledged this, maybe im imagining that part] no doors on the frames, i walk circles into the kitchen into the living room into the kitchen. theres wallpaper on one wall, four feet up, and thats it. ????? oh well. at least the lights work and the cats are happy to smell the strange blue carpet. harumph. what an odd place.
might just be perfect for me.
ive had a very real fear that maybe ill be trapped here. in this city. i see people i know, getting soft and settled. content? maybe resigned. a copper taste and i know im growing roots. here i shake my feet. ok, theyre still a metaphor. but how much longer do i have before the air becomes too thick and i cant breathe anymore just function and tread. shake it off shake it off shake it off.
for now i can handle this. maybe.
the other night i drove across town in rain and cold to get the voice ive been missing these past few years. deep and familiar. he gets in my car and i start to panic. what am i thinking... whats this..... i cant do this. but there we were. in the parking lot at work now. its been hours and the windshield holds rain and our coffee is cold and im not as nervous anymore. hes the same boy i used to know. adore, love, whatever. years ago we destroyed each other. the fall was incredible, epic and cruel. and yet.... its true .... i could never trust anyone like i trusted him. i could never let go. maybe i never did, just put on a good front. you still make me shake. and i want to be here. this isnt like before. welcome back.
sigh. but its terrifying.

everything is so damn terrifying.

last night i danced with people i adore. we watched a classy lady expose herself then we went back to singing bad rap and dancing like the east siders we are. drunk and smiling i hug and pull and move. it felt wonderful and i forgot that i had all this trash in my head for just long enough. her smile, his hand on my arm and the pulsing lights mingle with new faces and smoke. smile honey, this is what you need.

sigh.

what can i do to make a straight line? nothing.

powerless.

head rush.

done.

give thanks

for the simple and moving things we have.

sometimes there is nothing else.

vent vent vent vent

little things tear at me. devour me.

theres nothing easy about going through days as this. reading too much into movements and words. reaching. if you will. upward and away from the dark spots below. away from the stagnant and pale. this last week has been the most confusing of this year. twisting and butterflies and this new and fleeting emotion i thought was once dead. passion? is that you? too bad. your coming in a weird time. stephanie meets boy, stephanie goes to work, stephanie hears voice she hasnt heard in years and years, stephanie comes to realization. not all of this feels good. but most of it does. delicious and frightening.
the boy. quick breaths and arms locked. being kissed like that hurts. i fell. weak. gave too much. and now its no ones fault but mine that im just a girl again. if anything, a goodbye fuck. weak weak weak weak. i go back to the blogs i wrote before. i always fall for boys the hardest when they are the most impossible to attain. when they are too busy or too intense or too much or ... leaving. maybe its a stigma with me. i just like the rush. maybe im trying to prove i can make them stay. most times they dont and im left breathless and wandering. well see. theres still time for me. i shouldnt care so much about them.
work comes in short bursts. time flies and im reeling at the end of the day, coffee grounds cling to my fingers and the customers names are slurring together. they ask me if everything is ok, but im all smiles and head shaking when im there. makeup and eyelashes flashing. intimidating and strong. the perfect shade of yes sir. maybe. then im in the elevator going up one floor and im sagging against the wall and praying for the strength to straighten and walk out. back into it. these new people are strange. they invite me out and talk and laugh and i take them in and we romp. i like the poeple i work with. sometimes.
the duplex is terrifying and usually too warm. i pace and listen to the music people give me. painting saves me. my cigarettes save me. but not always. i put my fists through my bedroom window the other day. im too dramatic maybe.
[dogs barking and killing each other and i just want the noise to stop]



i dont know how i feel right now! actually its kind of mixed. i feel twitchy and scared and at the same time brave and standalone.

silly.

ridiculous.

jumping guns.

tripping.


what is coming? who knows! in and out and me at the wheel. drunk and heavy with thought.

ugh.

i cant write anymore.

ive lost it.

maybe im all messed up

but then again this is the only time....

never mind.

instances change emotion.

and im all about it.

all over it.

time for the new parts.


today my dog dug into my neighbors yard and tried to woo her tinier more angry dog.
i had to carry his heavy ass back home.

this day was cursed from the start you could say.

im already over it.

current favorite song: my girls by animal collective.

the other night me and some great boys walked through hemisfair.
we walked by the fountains and looked at the art. dizzy headed i agreed to move to chicago.

its about that time any way.

time to leave.

i dont think ill look back.

wake up

clear head

how is it i have you when im this deep in it.

words from a kindred spirit and the girl in the bathroom.

breath taking. life is breathtaking sometimes.

it instills faith. and truth.

let me finally write about him. cryptic still but this time, the heart ache gone, the pain gone. finally maybe we've found our way back. to what should have been.
and i ask you.
remember our first conversation? when you told me all those things. your life and your struggle. when we poured all over the other. when even though we hardly knew one another we shared. im glad youre back in some way. glad we have finally moved past it all. all the shit and the grey areas and the want and the pain. this is what we were meant for maybe.
we shall see.

and this girl. god this girl. tonight in the bathroom of some restaurant. she was crying and i was there. i ask her whats wrong and she sobs. tells me not to worry but i go and put my arms around her. and she tells me her life. im nothing she says. just some stripper she says. she cries and i hug her tighter and push her towards the mirror. look i say look at yourself. such a pretty girl. lost and forgotten. shes pregnant. shes nothing. she repeats it. and ive been there. she says i dont know you. i say it doesnt matter. this is what we are. women and all that is strong and powerful. she looks at me and my heart breaks. i tell her about womens week and i brush tears from her eyes. she breathes and this time the tears stop. maybe she will see. maybe she wont. but life isnt math and this might be the turning point.

right now im full of emotion.

full of hope and full on the night.

this.

this is it.

what dreams are made of.

like i said, we shall see.

how

is it
i'm this ...

loopy

right now.

see: the falling down stairs blog.

then in a second im clear headed and the flow of everything these last few weeks gave me is drowning me.
confusing lead ons.
calling in.
sleep sleep sleep.
pills.
being drunk in and out.
here and there.
stories and yes, that wonderful kind of friction.
nothing beats the kind of acceptance i have.
nothing could be more pure.

what was and now is not

a list:

too much and too often i am

-waiting
-smoking
-cackling
-picking at things
-pacing
-wanting
-trying to make people understand what it is to be like this
-marveling at people who float through like they dont care
-confused
-under the influence
-awake
-reaching


what is it to want anyway. a simple thing really. i see people at work and i want to touch my chin to their shoulders. i sense the grief in old people and i want to take them to dinner and let them spill over the table into my brain. preparation. i want so many things. ive said it before. never the storybook romance, never the picket fence. maybe a sense of being that isnt ever changing. maybe another person who can tell me what it means to exist and how we can change that state. think tanks. other people. i want to peel them open and crawl into their warm minds. invasion. always the invader. not true. somehow im always left on the side of the road. scratching my head and trying to find a highway to get home and clean myself up. thumbs out, mouth open. wonderful image.

last night i dreamt. finally.
about a woman in the rocks of the ocean in a dress that was so red when it touches the water and blended into the waves it looked like she was bleeding satin.
a rape and a worse form of love.
of work. and the people there. its funny how your mind changes people and in the dreams you have they look how you feel about them.
and me waiting on the edge of a bed for someone who would never come. heh. take it how you want it.

maybe its cause i watched Fur directly before going to sleep.

i feel strange today. awesome.

:/