It's hard to know where to start, when some things are nothing but blurry watercolor images that run with the rain that flooded the weekend, and other moments are frozen in time, not by the icy night desert wind, but by the stillframe image I have in my mind that allows me to hold on to people a little too tight ( Read more... )

Getting ready for the weekend. It's easy to stuff clothes and makeup in backpack and call myself ready. But preparing me isn't so easy. I struggle with excitement, anxiety, nervousness, and butterflies that are made of steel in my stomach. It's been so long since I have seen everyone, and I truly am nervous. Will it all be as much fun as I ( Read more... )

Stuck my finger in the socket and looked surprised ( Read more... )

In a perfect world, I would wake up with the freshest morning face of a movie star, eyeliner always perfectly in place, hair rumpled but not distraught. I would wake up in silk sheets and my maid would have my morning herbal tea sitting steaming hot next to the bedside. I would be like Snow White, stretching and yawning and in a matter of seconds, ( Read more... )

ANGER ( Read more... )

I am seconds away from stripping down naked and running in the streets, just to wake this sleepy little town up. But my boobs would flop and that would suck. Fine, then. I am seconds away from jumping on the bed. Boobs will still flop, but in private. I crave excitement like I crave drugs. I crave a bar stool that won't tip over when I dance on it ( Read more... )

A Not True Love Story ( Read more... )

She's running up and down the streets, screaming at the clouds, praying for a way to make it all work out. She's tossing clothes into a suitcase and sitting by the door waiting for a taxi to take her to a life that is daring, that does not require words or thoughts, just a whirlwind of love and life, like the tornado taking our Dorothy off into her ( Read more... )

hi ( Read more... )

silver winged bird,overhead ( Read more... )