do... do i tell my parents?

| All your sane are belong to me.

| Why do I need new worlds for undetermined whiles.

| When will god give it to me.

| Nickel and Dimed. Rebel Heart. Rotten and Rascal. Please to the Table. Voice of the Fire.

I called in sick. My mind is crying and spun and hypersensitive, the ceiling won't stop staring at me, and I can't put anything in a proper and efficient sequence. I can't muster the courage, I can't stop thinking about, I can't seem to find ( Read more... )

defeated neighborhood

August --> Lunar Park, softcover, Bret Easton Ellis
September --> Only Revolutions, hardcover, Mark Z. Danielewski

Sweet.

I feel loathesome, unexciting, and aimless. So upset with myself for being a girl, and a girl that's so endlessly tolerant of others, forgiving, and patient, when I cannot for the life of me prove my love, appreciation, and admiration to anyone. I'm not consistent enough, I'm not in touch with myself at all - this, after twenty years and so many ( Read more... )

I... am so employed.

And burnt.

We went out to Cape Romain, to the Boneyard Beach. I took so many photographs, they just have to come out intoxicatingly beautiful. I'm so exhausted, so happy. Like I've been made love to and am being cradled, or have my face pressed into my Riah's belly, or hugging Robert.

God this is so good.

You know what?

Goddamnit.

Attachment discombobulates me and I'm not a person who picks up easily on another's feelings toward me (positive feelings, that is). It isn't paranoia, and I wouldn't say it has much to do with confidence. I'm exhausted by all things, I struggle to wake, I can't often speak. I am tense, but not anxious. I feel alone and unable to receive help. I ( Read more... )

Closer was a remarkable movie.