Alice in Waterland

This is just pretty much amazing.

life would be so much easier if my brain stopped talking

I finally saw him again last night. It had been... almost two weeks? Since I've seen him. Well, you know, I've *seen* him, with my *eyes*, but since we shared our peaceful camaraderie. I didn't realize how much I missed it until we were together. About an hour in, we were playing pool, and he cracked some joke and I laughed, finally, so hard I couldn't shoot, and he goes "Thank God! You know, that's the first smile you've cracked all night," and I didn't want to tell him that it was the first I cracked all day.

It was good. All we talked about was bullshit, thank god, because sometimes he slips in the most ridiculous thoughtful crap that I don't want to talk about, but mainly it was making jokes about each other and him telling me the history of punk/pre-grunge while he played examples on the jukebox and we both chained smoke, as usual. I went into the whole situation in a pissy mood, wanting to be angry at him (which, I didn't realize I was until I saw him, I told myself I was just busy, but I think in the end I was angry with him), and coming out of it totally relaxed.

I felt good and un-conflicted, for once. I got a good-night hug and that was that. And I was totally ok with it.

And then I tried to sleep. And the dreams started. And I don't know where we were (as if it mattered), but he was leaving, for somewhere, and I was saying goodbye. 'I just want to touch your face,' I said, and I took it and cradled it in between my hands, staring at him. And he kissed me, and he held me so tight and I began to cry. He kissed my face and I kept crying. I was overcome with sadness and longing like I haven't experienced in a long time.

And I woke up, and the last vestige of those feelings are still coiled tightly about my body like tendrils of morning glory, the full blooms shying away from the changing afternoon sun, but the vines still wrapped around my skin. And no matter how many times I tell myself to shake off the residue left by dreams, crazed landscapes of the subconscious, all I can think about is the how sweetly we touched each other's faces.

I refuse to confuse loneliness for a need for his affection. It's bad timing and it wouldn't end well.

never get so attached to a poem

you forget truth that lacks lyricism;

never draw so close to the heat

that you forget that you must eat

...

song lyrics are so seventh grade

rage rage rage

rage rage rage

sometimes I feel like all I do is rage violently against the bars of a self-imposed cage, but do little to make said cage actually disappear, because what if, when it's gone, all I still do is want something better?

das boot

Today I was an hour late for work because I had a boot put on my car. I tried to park on King St after work last night, but even though it was just after 6:30, because it was a Saturday there were NO spaces. So, I get up this morning, ready to go, walk out to where I parked -- and there they are, sitting on my tire.

$60 down the whole. "Hey, well, maybe this will cheer you up. If you had waited just another hour, you would be paying $120." I told him it might as well be a million, in that case, because I couldn't afford to pay it.

I AM BROKE, y'all. Broke broke broke. And bills keep coming.

When I was younger, I was told that if I was smart enough, and I worked hard, I could get scholarships and go to college and then get a job, and it really didn't matter what my degree was in as long as I got one, because then I was proving that I was a capable, intelligent hard worker, BLAH BLAH FUCKING BLAH, and I'd get paid and everything would be ok.

LIES LIES LIES FUCKING LIES.

So, essentially, this morning any naive hopes of being able to stay in Boone have pretty much been shattered.

Fuck, I do not want to move back to Jacksonville. I do not want to ask my parents for money. I just want to pay my bills and write and live in PEACE.

Money = root of all evil, y'all.

THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE.

Richard Avedon - Dior 1957

Richard Avedon - Dior 1957
Originally uploaded by myvintagevogue

family

Today I have a bad attitude (quelle suprise, no?).

I feel broke and whiney and I miss my mom and my brother. I want to go visit them and eat belated birthday cake and watch movies. My brother always makes fun of all the sentimental parts, effectively ruining them, and mom and I yell at him. We also get into shouting matches over games of trivial pursuit and especially monopoly. But then someone says something ridiculously funny (usually Stephan) and we all end up laughing so hard we turn red and start to cry.

If I work hard at saving, I should have enough in the next month to buy new brakes and rotors and finally see them again.