you know who you are

Thank you for affirming the beautiful parts of me; thank you for affirming the parts of me that I couldn't always love. I will hold your hand through life forever and ever, and then I'll meet you in the beyond.

hell yes

thank you for asking, that IS the trophy my competitive art team won at state!


How weird is it that I began high school nine years ago?


life is going too fast these days.

a series of bad decisions

also, who let me get disgustingly sunburned and then wear a T-Shirt with SQUEEZE THESE written across it (screen-printed in the Dells! YEAH!) and boxers that say PARTY IN MY PANTS out in public?

wow, I have a ridiculous amount of stalking photos left over from high school. Also, a period of about four years where I want to blank out my face. sigh.

on bickering

We go to see Anti-Christ and end up walking out. The streets are wet, it's Sunday evening, and we meander to a wine bar where we decide to sit at the bar and have one glass of wine, for him a beer. Soon, his two friends who joined us for the movie come in and we move to a table, but not before I realize that somehow I've lost 80 dollars in the course of the night. WHICH SUCKS. We begin talking about the movie which leads to a discussion on artistic merit, heart intuition, why the need for the depraved. It is a good talk, I think, but on the way home he is quiet. He gives me a weird half-smile at the light but other than that we don't say a word.

We get home, and he decides to shower. Finally, as I am pissing, he admits he's bothered by how we converse in groups; our interaction. I ask what he means, can he elaborate? He says it's not localized. I say that's bullshit. He says I act like a teacher and that I purposely disagree with him. I tell him he's arrogant and likes to get on his soapbox for too long and that it annoys me.

The conversation earlier had ended on the idea that we all withhold enough to be called a liar, that rarely do any of us have the courage to be utterly honest with another. I am fearful to say more or to blame. Lately my mind has felt like a web of doom, unable to tell the difference between the reality I create and the reality that exists. In the end the question I keep coming back to is what's the difference?

puppet mouth

I'm starting something. A new blog. I'll publish it when it's finally something to look at but in the meantime, I need something new to write. I can't keep complaining all the time. I bore myself.

Anyway, about today: woke from a deep sleep around ten. Made love, skittered to the bathroom to fight over the sink, boiled water for coffee. He leaves wearing pressed pants for work and I, with the day off, drive off to lunch with my mother which turns into buying five bottles of wine. The house is sleepy and quiet and the cats titchy when I return. I think they are beginning to become friends, although occasionally they howl over who gets to sit behind our shoulders on the velvet couch. I go for a walk. My neighbor with the two husbands gives me the peace sign from behind his beard as he jerks his small camper into the right lane. The day holds itself gently, smiling.

feel sticky and need to shower
hungry for another sandwich
with the fig and curry
yummmmm
too early to sleep and growing dimmer
I wait and wait and wait
reading
telling myself not to smoke
wanting to smoke and then shower
the best
wanting to smoke and shower and then crawl into a warm space under the covers and wait for you
so that I can sleep