in the high school winter time, michael clarke and i used to go to his house during the lunch period and smoke pot and listen to Washing Machine. then we would go to photography class, high as a kite and take over the cd player in the darkroom and play Godspeed and everyone in the class would flip their shit. no wonder i loved photography so much ( Read more... )

on saturday i went to toronto, drank a bottle of liquor and went to dance cave and danced until my legs wanted to fall off of my body. i got a piggy back ride home and nearly got gang banged in bed, because i am so electric or it was just the rum. on sunday morning i didn't move until i got dinner, and then saw alex and watched him eat shawarma ( Read more... )

"Seven Swans, never swaddled in your Ikea comforter. Instead we are both naked on top of the sheets, smoking a cigarette to ourselves. The window is open and draws the hanging smoke outside to the new dusk. I can see a lot of life in you. I can see a lot of bright in you. And I think the dress looks nice on you, he sang as I watched our pale ( Read more... )

i think i am going to go to UofT next year for english and push through until third and forth year desperately waiting for the poetry and prose, and short fiction classes. this is the tentative plan ( Read more... )

saturday morning alarm rings. rings again and again and i don't want to move because it's 8:30 in the morning and i have to get up to leave for burlington, so i can make it to work on time. i am tired and my eyes are puffy and i have bruises on my feet and eriver is still peacefully asleep because he doesn't work until later. i crawl out of bed ( Read more... )

right now, i am nineteen and drunk and stoned and ending my night of frolicking and drinking in the streets of hess village. funny, i only got IDed once for cigarettes, and once for alcohol out of the possible three bars i spent my time at. drinking began at five o'clock sharp, and mike and i were bombed before lara even met us. it was a good ( Read more... )

blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

three am, lights out. toss and turn, think and think. four am, mom wakes up; she makes coffee and washes her hair. worried thought, panic override. hyperventilation, helplessness. five am, exhaustion. sleep ( Read more... )

thanksgiving means family and harvest and love, and michael's mom and i getting drunk off red wine together and making a pact to visit michael during christmas when he is living in barbadros. yes, next month he is going to live in 151 rum land for an undetermined amount of time. to swim with the sea turtles and sleep on the beaches. today, ( Read more... )

Summer to Fall-ing ( Read more... )