river child

It's strange meeting up with people who you haven't seen in months that left a huge impact on your life. I spent an entire summer filled with delight and foreign encounters. I did things most people can't attest to, and a lot of really cliche things. I met some people I could do without and some people I'll never stop talking to. But, when I saw you today in your red jacket I didn't know what an impact saying goodbye would have. New York's a big place, but you're a big kid. I'm glad I got to show you around before you tripped around the country, and I'm glad I got mosquito bitten with you.

haha it's really fucked up to me though how many people in my life are like you. people just come and go. they leave and then they come back and then they leave again, yet again to only come back. it's a vicious cycle. the several of you that exist are like rabid beasts. i really like it.

i hope new york is amazing. i hope you meet another river child. i really hope she's as fearless as me. i don't much want you anymore, although having you one last time wouldn't be so bad. I'll have to call kyle and tell him see what sort of good advice on life he'll give me. I'll never follow through with you, but I just want to see what he says.

but, on another note there's always you. 'the power i afford you is the one i wish i had over you.' and random missed connections haha.

ha, ha, fucking, ha.
mmmmmm i adore you. what a fucking shame.

seaside

i think we'd be perfect sea dwellers.

before and again.

I decided to help out Katey by undergoing the terror of reading through completely awful works of 'literature.' I read a decent story with a stupid ending, a completely over done story about a cute little boy, a good story that ended like it was no longer a story but a fucking psa about how to be a giving person. Katey and I packed a shit ton of clothes tonight, looked at what lurked under the bed [which landed us with many treasures], and then sat down to decide that we'd both be dirt poor forever and end up teaching at some highschool because our degrees are pointless.

I think i might shoot myself having to teach highschool students with the ability to write complete shit. I remember my sophomore year when writing literally envelopped my life. I remember how my teacher adored my absolute shit, and tonight i revisited some of it to be absolutely correct in my assumption that NO ONE can write as a highschooler.


On another note, we found an excerpt to our book that included sayings such as:

'oh, it's a chinese magical!'
'do samuris get married? i mean to like geishas or something? that's sumos!'


Not really funny to outsiders, but literally bending over with pain from lauging sort of funny to katey and me. Earlier this morning we also found a book from when i lived in VA the first time around. Now, that was hilarious.

What is the most poplar fashion right now? Lace up jeans
katey was going to be a lawyar, spelled that way too, and me, well we didn't waste our time. patrina was most likely to grow up to be a clown, and katey was going to thank god when she won an award. pft.



Basically, i love looking back at being a child.

winter wonderland

we are what we are. there aren't answers or questions. shadows of whats wrong and right show no more, for the sun sets too early. the wind breaks my stride and the stairs get harder to climb. fresh air fills my lungs, everythings icy.













shhhh, please be quiet:





i dont know what it is about winter. i love it but i fucking hate it.

There's no pattern, no exit, no enter like a maze, but a story with scattered subjects and no beginning or end. It's a spiderweb's life: we build it, feed off of it, leave it, build it again. I don't think i'll get frost bite this year.

You gotta own the beat, don't let it own you.

art project/life.

we had a blow out fight last night. i dont really care, we're over it. totally loves you, bitch.

im starting a new art project. i dont know when i'll actually really get around to doing it, but if anyone wants to be a part of it let me know.

basically: im going to have people stand in long johns without a top on and take pictures of it with a disposable camera. there will be different themes, but i havent really gotten that far yet. i think most of them will just be whatever is natural. i dont want it to seem staged.

i also would love to collaborate with somone to make a huge painting soon. if me and katey get this house i need some art to cover the walls, and i think it'd be fun to to it with someone to see what sort of thing we came up with.


On another note, I feel a little bit stuck. Katey and I discussed last night what a burden it is living with parents. We're just looking for an escape. A place to call home. I'm sick and tired of bullshit houses. I find one, they want to rent to us, whoops shit's already been rented. What the fucking fuck.

The new house we're looking at is run down and blech, but it's a house. We've got a nice room and a beautiful kitchen. I think I could get used to it. If this shit doesn't fall through we've decided to just move to northside until we can get all of our shit together. But, then what do with do with our dear Gina Marie? ugh ugh ugh.

It'd be totally cool if someone could fix all of our problems haha.

or, if someone just made some art with me.

basically...

1. as alex says: you two are a mess- we're trying to fix that.
2. vegan scones: i hope baking really heals all
3. gina: that little bitch dog gets better every day
4. john bowman: where's the line to be drawn
5. house: i'd love to burn this shit down. i want out.
6. me: school is a waste of time, give me a good book to read, find me a damn good job, let me whine to you.
7. richmond: i might leave you soon.
8. fireplace: please workkk
9. pace: how is this thing supposed to work?


i feel like this:

my back hurts and im blue blue blue.

haha i dedicate this to katey, because i loves her.

Melissa

A friend of mine, Melissa, was killed last week by her boyfriend.

I just fucking want to say that if you know anyone who is abused, or are abused yourself, let me know. I will NOT stand for that shit. If I had only known she would have never ever fucking been touched.

http://www.inrich.com/cva/ric/search.apx.-content-articles-RTD-2008-11-04-0123.html

take care of yourself, know that there are people who seriously don't care past a certain point. What the fucking fuck are her children supposed to do now? Visit their fucking piece of shit father in prison and hope that he somehow is a fatherly figure?



fuck that shit. shit ended the moment he thought: hitting her will make her shut up.
she used to say she told her kids not to repeat: shut your mouth.

i think he should have never made her say it.
i think i'm sending him hate mail.

Basically, I love meatwad.

home

i really miss coming home sometimes.

i walked in tonight and it smelled like food and felt so toasty. When I lived here, though, it was brash and uninviting. The smell of food tainted my clothes and I wanted it out. Now, I'd give anything to get home on time and watch my dad play the guitar. I'd kill for my moms soups and fried foods. I feel bad when I don't give my sister a ring every once in a while. fuck, i want to be a kid again.

i'm so nostalgic. It's so conflicting and contradictory.

blech, i'm gonna go lay in the fetal position on my left behind bed.