Peut-être je serai une mère dans un hôpital à la journée. Peut-être je jouerai avec mes enfants sur samedis. Parce que je pense...that maybe something is wrong with me. My highs are so high and my lows are so low. Driving up, I felt like a child, conspiring with the trees, whispering my secrets to them and bouncing about, too excited to stay ( Read more... )

I can feel myself slipping and receding, and I haven't bothered to ask why. Everyone assumes the ocean and the moon are lovers, just as everyone assumes the only two Muslim boys in class must be best friends, just as no one asks "Are you okay?" if you keep quiet and occasionally smile at an off-color joke. I find myself wanting to smash vases and ( Read more... )

I had a dream. In my dream, I had a magic bottle. It was green. If I put my ear to the bottle, I could hear people. But not just people in the same room as me. I could hear people across the ocean. And if I talked into my bottle, people could hear me. I talked to a girl named Annie about my boy troubles, and she told me my nervous, self- ( Read more... )

My puppy likes to sit where she can see everyone. I used to think it was because she loved us and wanted to protect us, but now I think she might just be paranoid and is afraid we will try to make her into a jello mold. True, my mother was out of jello one night and we had company coming over and we gave the puppy an ominous look, but that's as ( Read more... )

Had a migraine. Took a nap. Had a scary fuckin' dream. Will avoid video rentals, cell phones, kitchens (specifically efforts to make human cakes the same consistency as regular cakes), murder, robots, bugged conversations, snowsuits, choir rooms, flying cars, sisters, revolutions, sleeping in gutters, and ruining boyfriends' lives, as well as ( Read more... )

My mother inquired if my fingers had grown cold due to an absence, if necks had suddenly found themselves devoid of lips, if my nervous answers to reasonable questions stemmed from a reluctance to accept a truth, rather than simple ignorance. I said No and she said Oh and acknowledged the limited influence of blood when it comes to words that I'm ( Read more... )

Pretty faces look mean beneath fluorescent transitions, and it's ironic that bitter sips could make them all a little softer. I just wanted to dance and maybe feel a little bit attractive; I wanted to believe the silly dream that each year gets progressively better - that you'll always be there, refusing to dance, but letting me crawl into your ( Read more... )

You thought I was crying because you were leaving. I was crying because I ate so many Pringles the other night (which could be any night that is not tonight) and I needed to rid myself of the salt. I'm being silly, of course. My head feels disconnected from my body, and my voice teacher would be so proud; she told me to be a bobblehead. She ( Read more... )

I'm in New York. I'm doing fun things. The end.

Leaves dangled limply in the silence, tips glowing red as if dipped in the blood of a thousand forgotten sunsets. The air was musty, full of memories of moth-eaten couches and tea with relatives teetering on the edge of death. Through the eyes of Francisco, the world was out of focus; his fingers blurred into an amorphous grey cloud when he ( Read more... )