Curious things pass in the night. A boy with a faux-hawk hugs me tight, and I get the tapped hand scolding of three plus onlookers. What do you do?, watching people scatter themselves about the room. Hiding beneath two strangely wrapped beds, and lighting fire and drink into the dawn; making a mist like floor that curtains what everyone knows is ( Read more... )

So which
train ticket do
I buy
now?

Hazy Mississippi, or clear sailing Iowa.

When I wake up, my morning is about airports. Dialogues end in 757s and clothing and toothbrushes. Everything is an organized mess and I kiss my family goodbye before I innoportunely leave them. Before christmas, 11 days before New Years. It's no wonder the smiles on their faces are so contrived. Some didn't believe I was leaving at all, eyebrows ( Read more... )

Abby wakes me up, 8 am, and I feel like my body is wasting away. The similar cry of the snow that's melting outside and slush-slushing beneath my cowboy boots, upstate weather P-M-S-ing with rain. More sleep? I'd suggest a lack of teeth grinding for such a pefect circumstance, no more reading, no library rooms. Bearded-no-brains gives me a smile, ( Read more... )

Wanting to write.
Having nothing to say.
Alas, eh.

I'm back, as an entire underpopulated town would agree. I've returned to upstate living, with a snowed in morning and giggle-drunk disturbances that crept into the night and ended pill-vodka comboed; my roomate still missing. But today isn't where I want to begin ( Read more... )

I never want to see another word program, EVER AGAIN!

Today I'm nervous because tomorrow is so undeclared. Tomorrow is plane flights away from everything I'm hiding from. It's 3000 miles distance from mother and father, from sister times two. From yellow and orange sheets that line my bed, and green carpet covered with suitcase and clothing; someplace that's neutral in my memory now, not so much owned ( Read more... )

California ( Read more... )

What a trip. I'm lost in colors and emotion, messages bouncing off of walls, people's faces dripping off their features, and when I wake up, I'm not sure whether I'm still dreaming, or if reality has finally hit full force. But she's not speaking to me the way she used to, and I know it's entirely my fault. My bad decision making, my drunken fever ( Read more... )