All. Hallows. Eve.

Halloween makes me feel dangerous.
And sexy
and naughty
and
really
fucking
cool.
There is something in the air that is evil and mysterious and treacherous and beautiful.
I want to tip my head back and take in the moon.
So hats off to the ghosts and demons and to the souls that won't move on...
It's gonna be a hell of a night.

Seattle

I want to go to Seattle and not come back. I'll disappear into the grunge scene and go be someone important in my own head.

I'll have great stories to tell someone someday.

Maybe being nobody will make me somebody.

When your daddy makes fun of your life and can't help you fix it

You know you have fallen pretty far

The tears won't stop

Twin

I miss my twin.
I hope she is ok.

Love

Lovelovelove
ThankyouThankyouThankyou.

Those things you said were so mean and uncalled for and cruel.
What did I ever do to you?
But hey... guess what? I'm glad we are not friends anymore.
I don't want a person like you in my life at all.
You disgust me.
You gave me anxiety and made me feel so sad.
Fuck off.
You know nothing about what you speak off.
Nothing at all.
God, you are a dumb thing....
Kiss. My. Ass.

Love, E

Friends and Enemies.

I love the crickets that live in my room.
They are precious.
They spring and jump all over the floor.
They look like little babies.
I don't mind if I find them in my bed.

The spiders get killed though.
They're gross.

How to be alone...

I like walking the streets all by myself.
I like walking through the crowds in the market-place and not having to turn and wait for someone.
I like walking as far or as little as I want.
I like sitting in the bookstore for hours.
I like drinking tea in the diner.
I like sitting in the coffee shop and reading a book as long as I want.

I've mastered being alone...now you try.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k7X7sZzSXYs

Today made me happy.

Sometimes everyone needs a day off. And after two weeks of running running running...
I got my day off.
I woke up at eleven to the phone ringing upstairs. Outside was sunny and cloudy and chilly.

"It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life."
- P. D. James

 

Yum.
She looks at the man and she--and she says,
"Where are we going?" and he looks at her and he says,
"We're going to a party, it--it's a birthday party.
It's your birthday party, happy birthday darling.
We love you very, very, very, very, very, very, very much."
And then, uh, he starts humming this little tune and--and, uh, it kind of goes like this,

I made mac and cheese and a big cup of tea and sat on the couch and read fmylife.com and read a book
that I am in love with.
I made more tea.
My roommate asked me if I had to go to work.
Nope.
Plans?
Nope.
Work ended up calling.
I ignored the call.
Sorry guys.
I work too much as it is.

And to the face of every criminal strapped firmly to a chair
We must stare, we must stare, we must stare.
I made my brother's birthday card. I drew a picture of Portland.
I can't draw.
He'll still like it.
I went to lunch with my best buddy. He said I looked happy.
I ate a rice crispy and a bubbly drink at my favorite restaurant.
The leaves outside are red and orange and yellow.
This city in the fall is perfection.

"The Indian Summer, the dead Summer's soul." - Mary Clemmer

 

My friend printed out my resume and gave me a copy.
I gave it to the sushi place down the street...so I can work more.
Oh well.
I came home and made another birthday card.
I wonder if I should send it...I miss his handsome face.

While my mother waters plants, my father loads his gun.
He says, "Death will give us back to God,
just like the setting sun
is returned to the lonesome ocean."
I have to walk up to the post box and send them off now.
Today was crisp and clean and wonderful.

I'm happy just because
I found out I am really no one.

Oh, and Bright Eyes rocks my entire world over and over again....

I'm just fine on my own.

So let me thank you for your time, and try not to waste anymore of mine.

I hate to break it to you babe, but I’m not drowning.
There’s no one here to save.

I heart this.

This is my favorite song. It makes my heart swell all big and happy like. "First Day Of My Life" by Bright Eyes.

This is the first day of my life
I swear I was born right in the doorway
I went out in the rain suddenly everything changed
They're spreading blankets on the beach

Yours is the first face that I saw
I think I was blind before I met you
Now I don’t know where I am
I don’t know where I’ve been
But I know where I want to go

And so I thought I’d let you know
That these things take forever
I especially am slow
But I realize that I need you
And I wondered if I could come home

Remember the time you drove all night
Just to meet me in the morning
And I thought it was strange you said everything changed
You felt as if you'd just woke up
And you said “this is the first day of my life
I’m glad I didn’t die before I met you
But now I don’t care I could go anywhere with you
And I’d probably be happy”

So if you want to be with me
With these things there’s no telling
We just have to wait and see
But I’d rather be working for a paycheck
Than waiting to win the lottery
Besides maybe this time is different
I mean I really think you like me

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zwFS69nA-1w

I wait for you,
knowing that you won't really come
like you promised.
You and I used to be Peter Pan and Wendy.
I think we're far too old
for that now.
Even in the stories,
the Pan grew up.

This video used to make me cry when I was little. So much passion.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iKT1P7x_Pzo

I want to be a mix of Courtney Love and Edie Sedgwick.
They were/are so unafraid and rebellious in their own ways.
Not giving
a flying fuck
must be
kinda
fun.


I could dig that.

I need to get my own place.
These people are fake and I hate living here.
They are so full of shit.

I looked at my old year books today. It's hard to believe that high school was almost three years ago...weird.
They used to make me sad when I looked at them, I would miss the old days and old friends too much.
Now all I see is how far I've come and I see who was important enough to stay in my life after school.
Only a handful, but they are the ones that count.
Hell, I'm living with my best friend from freshman year.
In a way, it doesn kinda make me sad. But not really sad. It's bittersweet.
The people that are here now are here for a reason.
It feels good to be where I am.

Silly little girl

I hate always blurting out what I'm thinking onto a page or into the air.
I don't always think things through.
Dear last post,
I hate you.
You make me seem silly and overly-emotional and like a 15 year old that hates their life.
Dumb. You make me feel dumb.
Go die.
Love, E
Maybe one day I will learn censorship.
Probably not.

Sometimes I pray that beautiful things will happen so I don't have to cry anymore.

I don't like the fact that you are in my house.
It makes me feel like thunder clouds are in my chest.

I decided to walk.
Sometimes I need to walk.
I waved at the man in the car for letting me use the crosswalk.
The light was red and he couldn't have gone anyways, but I thanked him all the same.
I got lost in the maze of roads.
The air smelled like roses and sweat was already forming on my skin.
I wish it was this weather all the time.
Sun, with a cool sharp crispness that only means fall.
The leaves were crunchy on the ground.
The park was empty.
The grass was wet and I felt nostalgia for a place that I didn't grow up in.
I guess any kind of park equals childhood memories.
The swings still make me feel like I can fly.
The round-about was wet and squeaked when it moved.
I sat on it and let it squeak.
Round and round the world blurred.
I sat on top of the picnic bench and thought about bread and tea.
A man came with his dog.
He threw a stick.
The dog yapped with excitement.
Bark bark so excited so excited.
I waved at him and he waved back at me.
I wished that I could stay out there forever and die on the bench.

When it was good...

When it was good we would stay in bed all day. We would read books about other worlds and lives and you would pet my head. We would kiss for hours until our lips hurt and swelled. You would whisper in my ear tales about sand and bullets and I would rub your back, trying to make the nightmares go away. We would lie on top of cool sheets, sweating in the heat.

When it was good you would dance with me. We would drink HoneyMoon and vodka until the world blurred. You would pull me close and I could feel the dampness through your shirt and we would sway to the beat. You would wink at me and I would literally melt. Your hand at my waist made my skin burn.

When it was good you would sing to me. My heart would constrict because I was so happy to hear you sing.

Sometimes I wish that you were you again. I wish you would talk to me and hold my hand again.

Something went terribly wrong and got broken while it was good.

You Won't Give Me Siberia

I wish it so badly to be true. I beg from my very soul.
Please let him want me. And not just want me, but need me.
I look at him and see perfection, everything I want.
But I know he won't give me Siberia.
He won't give me furs and snow storms and tigers.
He will try, and say that he wants to, but his heart isn't there.
I cry tears of frustration over broken promises.
I'm tired.
I want to sleep in a tent lined with lanterns while the wind howls in the outside world.
But he won't give me Siberia.
I'm falling
head
over
heels,
but he can't
take me away.
I'll have to wait for Siberia.

Drift, Glide, Hover, Soar

 Sometimes I float. I feel the base in my chest, bumping against my heart. It makes it hard to breathe. I choke, but the electricicty keeps coursing through me. People surge against me, pulsating. I want to scream. Not from anger or pain, but from the sheer brutality of it all. The drums make the scene before me flutter and buckle. I tip my head back and feel the beat almost knock me off my feet, it's so deep in my chest. It's still hard to breathe. What makes it into my lungs smells like sweat and vigor and viciousness. I want to float to the ceiling and sit in the cobwebs and choke on the air with the spiders. We'll learn to live with the base knocking against our hearts together.

 Sometimes I float. Angry glares, a stare-down. Anxiety and adrenaline tearing through my viens. It hurts. Streaks of white shirts and peach ice cream swirl past me. I want to lay on the glass-topped tables and throw salt shakers at them, while letting the surface cool my cheek.

 Sometimes I float. Big brother lets me cry. Sweet, twisted, ruined tears of sadness and happiness. Gin is warming and patting and petting my belly on the inside, like big brother is petting my head and whispering humane and pretty things in my ear. I don't want to be touched but I desparately need to be. Dark curtains pull over my eyes and the rollercoaster in my head begins. I wish I was on the boardwalk in Santa Cruz, watching the sky light up with electricity, rough boards under my head. They are coarse and jagged and stepped on by a million feet. That's what my brain feels like. Big brother shakes me awake.

 Sometimes I float. Cobalt sees cobalt. An echo of vision. We're the same. You kiss my mouth and I trip into another world. Cool sheets and humid blankets bind me close to you. "I think we can make each other really happy." Those words hum in my ear, getting me drunk. I want to be in Siberia with you. We'll stay under blankets and furs all day and let the wind scream at us. We won't be bothered by it. Potatoes and stroganov will make us fat and make the tigers jealous that they can't eat us. Your hand on my face brings me back. My body warms and sparks at your touch. I pet chest hair. You beam at me. You smell like warm bread and protection. Your gaze makes me feel beautiful. We slip into sheets and snow and tigers of Siberia.

 Sometimes I float. I lay my head back and all I see is sky. Raw power and urgency and pain are running through the clouds. I whimper. I wish I was in the soaking grass, feeling wetness seep into my soul. The rain comes quickly, clutching a timepiece, late as always. I want to be in it as it hurtles to earth, I want to be damp and soaked and moist and exquisite in it. I want it to hurt me and love me and make me feel alive. My brian swells and seeps ideas and thoughts onto the floor. I lay my head back and all I see is sky. Sky and sky and sky. And I want to float in it.

Shut up your happiness.
I don't want to hear you laugh and giggle and smile.
I can hear you smile.
I can fucking hear you smile.
I hate it
because that is what I should be doing.
You stole happiness from me.
You won't give it back.
And it's not fair.
Shut up shut up shut up.
I can see your happiness
I can feel it
I can hear it
I breathe it
It tastes like champagne.
What you have done
has ruined my soul
and made it dirty
and dark
and it smells like rot.
I hate you and your happiness.
You took mine and made it yours.

My feet were hurting.
The air smelled like home. Home is a long ways away.
It smelled like home.
The leaves were yellow. They were beautiful.
I walked by the water. The water was a long ways down.
I was so happy.
The cigarette tasted like anxiety.
I love fall.