Wednesday, February 25, 2009

bathroom sex with busboy

Your fingers were sticky with love pouring from my permanent wounds.
I learn to love from your sighs and stale kisses.
Your hips tease me. please.
Open eyes, open legs.
Open mouths.
Your skin tastes like cloves and burnt coffee mixed with sweat..
He gasps for fuel for fucking.
They are so real.
His eyes roll back in his head with every move...

i can fuck the words that cum from his mouth.

And overhead our hands collide and cling for some sort of simple intimacy,
Love could never feel this good.
Thank fucking god this isn't love.
At this very moment, I am so fucking in love.
I AM LOVE.

There is no conscience in the removal of facades.
There is no conscience in the removal of clothing.
In our stall of sanitized insanity, we suck out the last bits of reality.
There is no way to hide from fucking an honest stranger.


let me damn splintered lips with chapped thoughts.
let me fill you in on what is missing in your thoughts of pleasure.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

dreams

ive been having nightmares again.

i had this weird dream that we were living in this concrete jungle scenario.
no government, just trying to survive.
and there was these men that were the leaders but they were unkept and unhealthy. overweight, obviously not healthly looking.
and Earth was going through these extremely hot heat waves where everyone was dying.
and we would have to use these ladders to get to higher and cooler areas.
and i kept helping and trying to get them to get to higher ground.
one of these men being my dad, and they were all just giving up.
slowly but surely.
while i was perfectly fine in trying to survive.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

"I don't think its really about being bitchy or demanding or cold or calculating: those characteristics, after all can be attached to most women with even the paltriest of evidence. I think,quite frankly, that the world simply does not care for the complicated girls, the ones who seem too dark, too deep,too vibrant, too opinionated, the ones who are so intriguing that new men fall in love with them every day, at every meal where there's a waiter, in every taxi and on every train they board, in any instance where someone can get to know them just a little bit, just enough to get completely gone. But most men in the end don't quite have the stomach for that much person."

-elizabeth wurtzel

Sigh. I wouldn't change for the world,though.
The world is going to change for me...

Saturday, February 21, 2009

wandering star, for who it is preserved

My insides are full of emptiness mixed with tequila,rum and red bull. I poison my body so my thoughts will seem less poisoned by your everything.

Forgive my troubled ways, for it is all I have ever had.
I walk the streets looking for love in every boy's eyes. I find nothing but tasteless kisses, blind eyes and meaningless words.


AND THATS HOW IT NEEDS TO BE.

"I can't hold this day anymore."

Portishead, alcohol, and poetry with your gay best friend is a good way to spend a saturday night.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

the flowers you gave me are rotting and still i refuse to throw them away

In novotny's:
I have never seen so much love pour out of ones eyes, when I saw my reflection on your back.
My heart has once again been broken by myself.
I need to stop this. Everything.
I mean that.
I need to get my shit together.
This fucking country needs to get its shit together.


I keep feeling something wrong. And I really don't think its me, but its this intense panicing sadness made up of lonliness. It started this last full moon.


"Things will turn out the way you want, if you stop doubting that I love you. doot. doot. doot... "

Monday, February 16, 2009

im a sensitive bore

so. a somewhat bad week.
strange things started with the house.
me and june started freaking out. my house isnt the biggest house. but fuck, it is just too big for us.
i could live in a small studio apartment squeezed in tight and i would be perfectly happy.i cant stand all this space.
anyway, strange things. thered be this strange tapping at the window. and other things i cant remember. we marked the triquetra on the windows. cast the circle. you know the rest.
we went to points of light.rapture , the lady taht runs points of light told us that it was bad energy. bought sage and frankincense and myrrh, burned it that night where it created this huge cloud inside the house. and we played
brazilian sun-cocorosie.
the full moon was very strange. i didnt feel right. something is wrong but i dont know what. i dont know with who. maybe its just me.but something did not feel good.

and yesterday was fucking awesome.
seriously. i could not think of a better way to spend on this terrible over-commercialized holiday.

i went to points of light and it was the psychic fair!
the lady who runs the store had a hair done, shes so beautiful in this motherly, big black beautiful way. and was already taking swigs of her jack daniel's
that she had offered me some of on wednesday.
i got a reading. it was this chick who looked like i could have gone to high school with her. just the fact that she was so young, it was freaking weird.
and she was incredibly awkward.
she told me A LOT.
and it was strange because she was using tarot, but i could feel her reading me. the way her eyes moved, she looked at everything. and she was reading my energy. it was this strange intimacy.

she told me things....


and little things she told me was that in 2012, (of course. it had to be.) was that i was going to have this big spiritual change. and that the people who have judged me are going to wish they had not. that they were "going to be made fools".
another thing was that there are guys looking. she kept asking me if i had a neighbor. someone that is around is watching.
she told me there was going to be a lot of unsatisfying relationships. that there will be boys who are simply around because of my appearance.
what the fuck?! my appearance?umm.no i dont think so.
she pointed out two.one good relationship and one bad.
she said that there was going to be an up and coming artist at some point of my life. and that he would "make art out of me". that i was going to be inspiration for a great artwork.
what the hell? my god, i wish.
she also mentioned there was going to be an abusive relationship. not physical. but some sort of dysfunctional relationship.
in the end, none of these relationships would satisfy, because there is only one.
she said something about it being beyond control.
hmm, what a sad thought.
we like to think everything is controlled by us. buts it really not. we think because were humans we can do so much. but there is so much that cant be controlled.
death. nature.the entire fucking universe.
can we control love?
can we trick ourselves into believing we love someone because we are lonely?
can we trick ourselves into believing we do not love someone because we're scared the wont love us back?
do we still not see the truth, lying in the back of our heads, whispering in your thoughts.
i think maybe its just one of those things you cant control. you can take actions, but the feeling is still there no matter the action you take.
its a depressing thought. and a bit beautiful. no?

later that night, i had the best conversations i have had in a long time with my dear friend brenda.
we watched science of sleep.
we drank a whole bottle of vodka. some margaritas. and some beer.
we talked about death and boys.
i havent laughed so much in such a long time.
i of course, was perfectly fine.everyone knows how much i can drink.
but poor brenda could hold on no longer.
pulled an anthony. was in the bathroom for a while.
while i was dying of laughter, trying to make art out of it and blazing in the room.
she was trying to be really hygienic. but how hygienic can you be when you're clinging over some toilet puking your brains out?
june came home, took care of brenda.
while i continued to laugh. and then got paranoid and started calling kenneth a 'white devil'

i havent dreamt in a while.
id rather dream about you than not dream of anything...
and sadly, thats says enough.

Monday, February 09, 2009

and for you...


self portrait.
02/08/09

Sunday, February 08, 2009

the less great depression

I'm really scared.
I just realized what I have done, the mess I have gotten myself into and what's going to become of it.
Its something I had to do though.

On the news all you hear about is the economy,global warming and religious wars.
I'M SO FUCKING SCARED OF EVERYTHING.
I'm scared of child molesters.
I'm scared of police.
I'm scared of the opposite sex.
I'm scared of dying.
I'm scared of love.
I'm scared of the dark.
I'm scared of white unlabeled vans.
I'm scared of losing my culture.
I'm scared of waking up and not remembering what I did the night before because I drank too much.
I'm scared of not paying rent.
I'm scared of bugs.
I'm scared of teachers.


I have extreme untreated anxieties.
Fuck human kind for having such big brains!


I don't want my sister to grow up in such a fucked up world. I don't want my grandmother to die in such a fucked up world.

Is god coming?
Is the devil coming?
Is the anti-christ coming?
Whoever they are, they have some fucking nerve.

Thursday, February 05, 2009

give me one of your soft sweet lagrimas

"I undressed you with my eyes, I have maybe even raped you in the dark and in the corners of my mind..."



I see your head turning.
And I sense your synchronized. heavy breath.


You are so much more beautiful than the rest.


Say what I cannot, beautiful boy.

Monday, February 02, 2009

dirty letter to aztec faced stranger in novotny's

I want you in my bed now, with the window wide open. and the sun beating down on your brown skin. I want your hair out of that rubberband like your fathers before you.
I want your lungs on fire, your lips burned from green leaves and pink tongues.
I will paint your sickness on my breasts of lonliness.

I have loved your face in a past life of deserts and gun powder. I once kissed your eyelids shut forever. your smeared warrior painted face is carved onto my hands.

your hands are too familiar for me not to stare. your body is too familiar not to want.
my aztec king has reincarnated once more into my heart.
crystal light blinds my thoughts.
smoke curls into my lungs.
you will reign once more in my spreading thighs....

a week until the end of chances.

for reverend green- animal collective

I am bleeding colors through every pore of my being.

Every day I am waking up a changed person.

Sunday, February 01, 2009

So. Here I am, stoned.
Listening to fitter happier by (clearly) radiohead.
I have now freaked out realizing exactly for the first time SO MUCH MORE in everything.
It made me come to my conclusion of why I fall in love with every boy I see. And to just to make david feel better, I will say I don't fall in love with just boys. Of course, I can fall in love with girls but in a very different way. With woman its more of a "rebel girl" sort of way. Its a bit hard to explain.in easier terms, with boys its in a way of everything. In a "and its nearly midnight and all I want with my life is to be ýou housewife" sort of way.in the "if they asked me to elope wit them I would say yes" kind of way.in a "TRUE LOVE WAITS" kind of way!
I will never be fond but not in love!
I WILL ALWAYS FALL IN LOVE TOO EASILY!
And its looked at as a bad thing. Its pathetic. Its näive.
But what if that's just the 'pig in the cage on antibiotics speaking'?

IN OTHER NEWS:
The house warming party was beautiful! As soon as everyone got there, there was jager bombs, white russians, fruity drinks, moscato(best wine IN THE WORLD), and more drinking.our faces were painted like native americans/oceans/cocorosie. Kenneth was the first to puke, which caused a chain. Sarah was next. Then brenda I believe. Then anthony, then me. Then anthony again.
And my puking was VERY justified, I drank more than anyone else there, matching Victor. Victor is a beautiful person from what it seems. He fought me in every word of my philosophy, drank a bottle of jager with me, walked through the boring suburb streets of Downey with me, and chased an ice cream truck with me. ENOUGH SAID.
and from what I heard gave his socks to me?

When I sobered up enough to remember things, June was wearing some sort of moo-moo that had Barbie on it telling me we had no water.so sarah and I drove our asses to get some. On our way back we yelled at abortion clinic protesters, flipped them off yelling" fuck you! I'm reclaiming my pussy!!!" Nobody is going to tell me what I can do with my body, ESPECIALLY my pussy. I don't care how irresponsible a girl is, she can do WHATEVER she wants if it is her own body. There is absolutely no argument in that.
when we left anthony was in the bathroom throwing up, when we got back anthony was still there. Anthony was in that bathroom for HOURS. All the while we were making him grilled cheese sandwiches, pickles,black coffee.anything to make him feel better. That is the thing about our home, we will accomodate the fuck out of you.at one point he took a shower, a very long shower in which we started to believe he was passed out and were going to send in a rescue group(being victor who was the only boy there at that point).
Oh! I forgot to mention, there was puddles on the floor of alcohol!that turned into sticky messes. Me and june were on our hands and knees scrubbing it today. It is still sticky...

Since thursday I had only been taking naps until saturday. I was living in some other world of sanity. I love not having sleep. It just feels right.

This past month was one of the most beautiful I have ever had.full of revelations, inspiration and emptiness.

I could live like this forever.