How much of our love is based on sentiment and history, on reminiscence?

Things are okay. Nich was here and then he left. Andy is still here and so am I. A lot of the time, staring blankly through the blue dust everywhere, the giant bleating sun bleeding in through the glass. My hands smell like pennies and stomach acid and rancid things, and they have grown weak and lack desire to grasp anymore at the strings. I ( Read more... )

I touch my skin. I pretend that there is no motion in the universe. I am covered in darkness and silence. Light and sound have dropped and disappeared. There is no longer gravity, or speed, no constant or variable. The walls are still, and the mice in them are still. The wallpaper is still. Then my eyes are closed, and all of the walls bend ( Read more... )

So we're broken up. So that's that. I have two more days in this house; avoidance is impossible and undesirable. We hold each other, we dance together. I dig my fingernails into my shoulders while he strokes my hair. All of my liquids come out at the same time. I am blood and tears and snot and spit, I am the loudness of it all. Last night I ( Read more... )

Things between Andy and I are turning bitter. I trust him very little now, and I realize that I have never really trusted him very much; I am constantly waiting for that big hurt, for that hurt to end them all, the one that will finish me. It does not come of its own volition so I make up little ones along the way. I suppose that these hurts ( Read more... )

Tomorrow Andy and I are going to Philadelphia for a few days. Vegan kosher chinese food, etc here we come. Happy New Years and all that. These days are good days.

p.s. Jay?

Jimmy slept in my bed with me last night and I told him secrets.

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site updates:

ten new photographs up in the black and white section

final photography project from this semester