Monday, February 27, 2012
memory is a funny thing
I wanted to remember you. I tried to be yours again. I kissed you accidentally, manically held your hand. I screamed at you and loved you and hated you all the same. I laid in bed with you, and then avoided when you came. I texted you to tell you that I'm sorry and I miss you, and I really want to hear your voice although I don't want to kiss you. You never even answered, you never said a thing. But sometimes I swear I hear your voice each time my ears ring. I wanted to remember you, I wanted to forget. I might as well not think at all, there's nothing even left. I bet that you'll remember, I bet you already forgot, I bet you think I'm fucking crazy from this dumb offshot. Maybe one day I'll see you, I may buy you a drink. Maybe you'll ignore me and be gone in a blink. I wanted to forget you, I wanted to remember. But memories are wrought with ash, and we just live in embers.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
you say that i treat you like a book on the shelf
I feel like I haven't been updating a lot:

Nowadays I look like this, only more bewildered. And yep, I know I have weird fingers that bend the wrong way.

and occasionally if I care a little more, like this.
I had a dream I met this guy and everyone hated me because I didn't care:

Imagine being famous enough that people would want pictures of you like this.

Nowadays I look like this, only more bewildered. And yep, I know I have weird fingers that bend the wrong way.

and occasionally if I care a little more, like this.
I had a dream I met this guy and everyone hated me because I didn't care:

Imagine being famous enough that people would want pictures of you like this.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
to be myself completely
oh god it’s wonderful
to get out of bed
and drink too much coffee
and smoke too many cigarettes
and love you so much
-frank o'hara
to get out of bed
and drink too much coffee
and smoke too many cigarettes
and love you so much
-frank o'hara
Monday, September 14, 2009
all the battlements are empty and the moon is laying low
Lately I walk around with shorts on and legs unshorn, no make-up, and no bra. Who am I trying to impress? I don't get why I have a kiss of death, but I guess I might as well look like it. I'm not trying to impress anybody this time.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
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