I am in complete lust with Steve Buscemi.

And this song.

All is calm and passive in the world that exists within Tarrytown, within my chest. And if that wasn't so much of a bold-faced lie, I'd have no problem writing as I do in my usual fashion: inside my magazine-clipping decorated notebook whose pages are too wide, and too long. Too big for whatever I could hope to become ( Read more... )

I've spent the better part of the past two days decorating the covers of my journals with collages from magazine ads. And I can honestly say I've never been so happy about it. Like a blissful kind of creative happy. I like taking other peoples' creations, and being able to prove that something can still be beautiful, even if you look at it in a way ( Read more... )

Hey hey it totally snowed.

( I pull the wrapping paper back and I'm staring at an amputee... )

( BITCHIN' CAMARO! BITCHIN' CAMARO! )

Amy came to visit me at the train station yesterday. Made me feel very special.

Today at the bowling alley, some like 22 year old guy gave me his number. Kinda sad, even considering that his name was Andrew.

Alanna let me borrow her shorts. Pictures!!
All apologies for the lack of makeup

( I get my dinner from a garbage can. )

wait...

join me.
quiet.

RESET
RESET
RESET

9 days... near. near.

wet.
car/gas/rain
valerie won't...

Will it happen?
No.

6 more months.
Then 5 years.
70 years.
No, 30.

nosebleed.

And I was sitting there thinking ( Read more... )

Went to the city with Alanna yesterday. Library, Jamba Juice, Sephora, surprizing the boys at MoMA, and Trump Tower. Basically. And a fucking turnstile going into Strawberry that almost broke my nose. Goddamn

( Ain’t no god, no ghost gonna save you now )