Wednesday, August 31, 2011

"Watch me knock your boots off"



"I'm the drug in your veins"

Niggas seducing and shit.

Sneezegasm

The physical sensation experienced at the peak of the excitation of a bodily function.

Mmm, sneezing.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

School's chool

Cool, cool, cool. My schedule is perfect and my sleep is finding sanity again.

I'm just happy to be writing things again.

Feelin' less like I'd rather die, feelin' more like I'm in love with everything and everyone.

How long does this last? This state of being at ease.

No chaos.

Oooh le French Films oooh



Moley



Monday, August 29, 2011

Leslie Anne Salvador



Leslie Anne. Lelley. She made my life better when I was an angsty and suicidal middle-schooler. And boy was I suicidal. 5 years later and we always find our way to each other.

I love you Lells. We'll still be friends 30 years later. I know it.

In Good Company


Such a surprisingly splendid night. These guys are great dinner company. I laughed. I died. It was lovely.

Festive Poop Man


Some poop smeared on his hat.

Many have failed to get on their level



Why are you so boppin'



Corn Guy



Little Debbie Hella Gucci



Blue Tent




She a boppin'



Sunday, August 28, 2011

Lame. Yeah, Can't Walk

Yeah. This blog is gay.

Friday, August 26, 2011

Suck It and See


The Cynical Fight for Happiness

Part II.

I saw you bent your head down at the emptiness of the ground. The gray and gravelly ground that matched the roughness of my voice for the day. My eyes felt warm and tired with something that isn't sleep and I knew all you wanted was to rest. In this second is when the weight of the years would lump up, turn into absence, and I find myself standing in the cathedral. I resist to kneel. I resist to clasp my fingers together. And I resist to close my eyes.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

The Red-Handed Story --"Devil's Made a New Friend"

There are words that I never imagined to be threaded together. Words I only find in my most hauntingly mundane dreams. Words that manage to claw themselves under my skin, grind against my nerves and bones, and travel all over me. There are words that yank down my jaw to scrape against the floors under me. Words to pull off like a rug I'm standing on. And all of a sudden, everything feels dirty. Everything feels untouchable and unclean and I can't help but take a second glance at the little details of my surroundings. And I double check over my shoulder, left to right and the blindest sight behind me. I squint my eyes at the shadowed corners. I submit to being a hawk and surrender to the unbelievable uneasiness of an unsettling idea.

Then there are words that shed light to the most inconspicuous darkness. Words that give sense to the senseless curiosity and endless wondering. Words that sharpen and magnify a blur of a picture that you began to draw in your head. And in that second while your jaw is still scraping against the floors under you, the clarity stuns your oblivious consciousness till there's nothing left out of you but the last exiting air of your astonished gasp. And with that immovable O-shape of your mouth, you swear at your unawareness and carelessness and you hope that this is just your most hauntingly mundane dream. Then you can't imagine how you can wake up the same the next morning, let alone manage to find an undisturbed sleep.

And lastly, there are words that force you to see in ways you never wished to see before. Words that jam distrust down your roughened throat. Words that obtrude bitter tastes in your mouth. Words that make you hold your breath and shake your head in disbelief. There are these fucking words that mean you have to blink frantically to assure that what you see is what it really is. Words that make you twist to answer your burning questions. Words that can trick you into seeing threes of everything to look at. Question everything. Suspect everything.

These fucking words have been circulating my bloodstreams. These fucking words have been repeating and echoing in my head. These fucking words found the loudest frequency and used it for me to hear. For me to bend my head down to my knees and cover my ears with the flat of my palm and wish I'd gone deaf for those few minutes.

The outstanding truth is now the most prominent thread of words that have crossed my mind. More prominent than your bone structure. You're red-handed and you've become the thoughts that I want to bleach and burn out of my head. And now we can't wake up the same. None of us can wake up the same.

"Devil's made a new friend"

JK is for...

  • Just kidding.
  • W stands for nothing.
  • And Ace. Because she my nigga.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

W is for...

  • Women.
  • Willy.
  • Wolves.
  • Tungsten.
  • WhoElse.
  • That one hoodie.
  • Other stuff.

From the writer of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind....

Thank you Michael Kaufman. Another movie worth being my favorite.


Tuesday, August 23, 2011

"I'll Haunt You When You Laugh"

Today, I miss you. Just today. I can go on without giving you any thought at all and all of a sudden, there it is. A very strange and familiar feeling that I never bothered to remember. But there it is, nudging me at my sides and poking my arm, waving its flashy hands in front of me. It's always when summer nears its end. I am reminded of goals and dreams and our ambitious glimmers. I am reminded of haircuts, school shopping, and some new clothes. We move together, walk together, and silently string ourselves with the aspirations we longed for ever since we were younger. Dreams of skyscrapers and an overpriced and outrageous sense of fashion. It's these dreams that tied me up for so long. And even now, in this uneventful disconnection where I am finding myself feeling very inappropriate for remembering a feeling that I should have forgotten, I still miss you today, and it feels so wrong. But our dreams stay with me. Dreams I no longer long for. Dreams I haven't given thought in years. Dreams that molded us to be the people we are now. Dreams that had us pining for the best possible version of ourselves. Somewhere along the way, we lost each other. And on most days unlike today, I knew that we couldn't achieve anything together and we lost each other for a reason. Coexisting was never a permanent option and we both knew that when we saw the destruction we caused. All we were supposed to do was set a fire in each other and leave once the fire set. But since we prolonged the time we didn't own, we are now left with ashes of these dreams. Just ashes.

I hate missing you the most. It's so helpless and stupid. I don't know what it's like to miss a deceased person, but if I were to try to feel what that feels like, then this is the closest feeling I can empathize with. I feel like this is the first time I thought about you in years. I can miss you, I just don't want to. I don't want to trick myself into feeling like I need you just because I miss you. I just want to throw in some sad jokes of best friends and laugh it off. Then go back to where my mind was before I even gave you any thought.

That's it.

Bite my tongue

For as long as I've had this blog, I have written about a few people who I claimed to be desperately in love with. Or whatever that even means. I caught myself rereading entries I wrote about a few ex-boyfriends and girls who stole my itty bitty little heart. For the most part, I was completely truthful about the girls who stole my itty bitty little heart. It was true that I had been desperately in love with them. I knew it, I felt it. It controlled me. It destroyed me. It had me wrapped around its awful fingers and I was whimpering by the end of it. Yeah, they got me good. But as for rereading my entries about these ex-boyfriends, I felt the need to shudder or cringe at the awful lies that I told myself to make myself feel better. I feel silly. I feel kind of stupid. I wish I hadn't used the words I had. I wish I hadn't pretended to feel things that I never felt for them. I wish I never assigned songs to these people. I feel like I have ruined a few good words and a few good songs by tainting them with memories of boys I never actually loved. Boys I kept around to keep from the loneliness during the cold seasons then dispose of once it gets warm. No, I never loved them. I didn't love any of them. And I feel like a sorry ass for only realizing that now. Now that I've been with Rae. Sometimes I'm glad I was the way I was. For the sole reason of being thankful for what I have now. Had I not been the deceitful and denying dragonqueen bitch I was then, I wouldn't realize now which feelings are real and which feelings I made up by turning them into words I can read. I just wish I never referred to any of them as 'the love of my life.' Who...who the fuck does that?

I won't lie to myself again about falsely loving anyone. Why was it so difficult for me to admit that I do not or no longer love someone? Never again. Never again.

I'll be truthful now. And right now, I am, without a doubt, in love with Raemon Farin. And I will never regret this. Even if we don't end up together forever or lalala, at least I know this to be true. Hold it against me.

Just a minute or two

Something tells me that I'm going to be alright with you. I'm going to be just fine with you. I feel magnificent with you. Maybe I am magnificent with you.

I love you. I just love you.

Monday, August 22, 2011

I was supposed to be a lad

I was supposed to be a lad... with a sword and everything.

I was supposed to wear my boy pants and my boyish charm.

But no, I'm a girl.

I don't have a willy.

I just have white girl problems.

I would really rather have a willy.

I would never pee in my shoe again.

But no, I'm a girl.

And I like white girls.

And if I had a willy, I'd be well hung.

I was supposed to be a lad.

I know it.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Saturday, August 20, 2011

No Luck

Hexed. Ace, Rae, and I are hexed. For the past several days that we have been hanging out, the only thing that ever happens to us are the worst of the worst white girl/first world problems. We've been ruffians at Walmart, flat bike tire here and there, no batteries, no light for a night ride, eating shit, peeing into shoes, more flat bike tires, P.N.B., pudding is made mostly of butter, late for the bike party, can't find the bike party, I swear these damn flat tires, scum life, vagabonds.

But as godawful as the little details of our days are, there are no better people I'd rather be scummy with. One of the best nights of summer; the mobbin' night.

Friday, August 19, 2011

"Whenever I breathe out, you're breathing it in..."


My teeth never feels as clean as it does unless we brushed side by side, my mouth foaming over your hand as you try and avoid it, but I provoke you enough to make sure my foam lands right on your hand anyway.
There are days, I admit, when I feel I will go mad if I choose to love you long enough. Madly.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

With you, I was never afraid of getting old.

"Now I count down my days,
trace the wrinkles on my body,
notice my sores, and cater to my aches

With you,
I wasn't afraid of growing old
because... well,

I spent my nights tracing the lines on your face
I noticed all your sores, and catered to your aches.

I would have been growing old with you."
Source: Meesheo

ARCHIVE, FUCKERS (for Ace-like purposes)