She is unaware of what she means.

Saturday, 07 November 2009

  • Changes a'comin'

    I'm finally severing my emotional ties to this godforsaken island of rage and sailing off into..what?

     

    In laymans terms, I'm moving back to South Dakota. I've been putting it off for months..but my mother and I have grown more volatile toward each other, and work is turning into a wretched place to be. I hate moving even farther away from Seattle and the woman I have found, but I can't afford to live here without living in my mother's house, and I don't want to jinx things with Erica by moving in (thought she has oh-so-kindly invited me to do so). :)

    I've been a jealous dick lately, and a grumpy one at that. I blame hormones. Not only am I PMSing, I stopped taking birth control on account of my pauper-hood, so I'm ten kinds of fucked up in my estrogen-wielding uterus.

    In other news: I love her boobs, and she thinks mine are pretty swell. I think piercings are in order. ;)

    I talked to my dad for a long time on the phone today, about an hour. It was really nice, we don't usually talk that long. We have most of the plans in order for me moving there. I am going to see Erica Thanksgiving weekend, though. She's coming to Billings, but shh! Don't tell Gustavo. I'm going to surprise him :) He wanted to meet her before I ran off, and doesn't think he gets to.

    I haven't told my mother yet. I'm not sure how she's going to react. Today, she randomly left for Winnet for three days without telling me..so I think I'm going to tell her while they're gone..as in maybe tomorrow. Not sure.

     

    Anyway, I have a fair maiden to attend to :)

Sunday, 01 November 2009

  • Lately.

    I have a strange fixation with Lucifer. I find it fascinating that his name means "bringer of light." I think I want to learn more.

     

    "But who prays for Satan? Who in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most, our one fellow and brother who most needed a friend yet had not a single one, the one sinner among us all who had the highest and clearest right to every Christian's daily and nightly prayers, for the plain and unassailable reason that his was the first and greatest need, he being among sinners the supremest?"
    --Mark Twain


    "I do not fear Satan half so much as I fear those who fear him."
    --St. Teresa of Avila

  • Jovovich, of the Milla persuasion.

    When can I be Olivia?

     

    This, of course, means nothing to you. And maybe I should think of Olivia as her, instead of as me..but I seem to want from others what I lack in myself. I know this. This explains Rebecca, which is interestingly the sister of an Olivia I know of. I've wanted to possess Rebecca for a very long time, to take on her life and love. Her eye and hand.
    But Olivia..

     

    I am at a loss, today. Sort of like Amelia Earhart..post mortem. Such a stunning history, and I only remember her death. Say goodbye to 1937, I'm thirsty.

    Maybe she went out quenched.

Friday, 23 October 2009

  • My life:

    Where is it going?

     

     

    I met someone, someone who feels exactly how I do back. This is new. We communicate, and we sometimes make the other one a little grumpy because we always tell the truth. It's amazing. She's quitting smoking for me. I didn't ask her to. Catch: She lives in Seattle. Well, Poulsbo to be precise. I just spent a week there, and it was the single most amazing experience of my entire life. Strange, though, driving through Kent.

    Catch 2: I have to move out. I am dying here. I am slowly resenting my job (though, thankfully, not the people I work with). I need to get back into therapy. My mother and I constantly have hackles raised. It's time. I can move in with my dad, but that's 5 hours further from Erica and the already-13-hour drive. I won't let that stop me, though, from being happy. And my dad is a pretty decent guy. He's smart, simple. We get along well and he can help me learn piano. And when I get the money to move out, I can rent the other half of Alaina's house. Or I could live in my brother's house with Alaina while he's away in Kuwait, but I'm not sure how easy it would be keeping Dexter there with Macey, the 100 pound Mastiff.

     

    I have to make a decision. I talked to my dad..he's been trying to get me to live with him for years. I always thought it was for the child support, but he's still been pushing since after I turned 18.

    I'm driving to Rapid on Sunday. I think I'm going to bring a bunch of stuff, clothes I won't be wearing the next few weeks, my guitar, books, things I don't really need on the daily. It'll be better for Dex, too, not having to learn bad habits from my mother's dogs.

     

    I need to get some boxes from work.
    Goddess help me.

     

Friday, 02 October 2009

  • Booked, Line, and Sinker.

    I booked my flight. As of three minutes ago I am suffering from unholy amounts of Giddy. I cannot wait, cannot wait.

    Poulsbo, Poulsbo. Get ready, try not to panic, board the plane, try not to panic, get on plane and be shockingly calm, land, try not to panic, drive to Poulsbo, try not to shake uncontrollably/talk my mouth off, get home, feel jittery, talk until the wee hours of the morning, sleep.

    I reckon there will be kisses in there, too. Oh, Jesus I'm shaking. Like the maggots cocooned, and now they're tearing out of their silk bedsheets to wreak havoc on my tender chest--and I love every second of it. Every second. I am optimistic, there are silver linings.
    I need to buy more lace.

     

    I waltz in my head. I know you, I've walked with you once upon a dream. And to think we would both be wearing dresses. It's rather lovely, if you ask me.

  • Incase I forget:

    He still makes me feel like my chest is full of maggots.

Tuesday, 29 September 2009

  • Learning.

    I'm in school. According to one (potentially wackjob) dude way back in the day, races are "mutations" much like the beaks of birds in Darwin's studies varied to best suit their environment. I sort of like that theory. The rest of his stuff seemed a little pretentious and self-justifyin, but that one I like. It makes me wonder if (assuming the human race makes it that far) we'll all look the same (race-wise, I mean), what with all the travel we do now and it's inevitable increase in the future.

    In other news, some words on my heart:

     

    My heartstrings reach across the tundra
    a barren place between here and there
    filled with swingsets, Radio Flyer--
    all rusting from tears and acid rain.
    But soft!
    I listen, you see, to the comfort in my fingers,
    toes, and once-apprehensions.
    And I fear not the falling, not the landing.
    Perhaps the aftermath..perhaps.
    But until then, fairest,
    we'll plummet to the ground
    with pinkies laced.

Monday, 28 September 2009

  • battle

    Her body is a battlefield
    ground zero for her soul
    Skin is aching, tearing, stretching..
    lungs are breaking, bile wretching..
    Here comes Alice, the rabbit hole has spit her out
    Reality is grey
    The important date, so late, late..
    was a fidgeting executioner.

    So the flowers drip their colors
    down into the brown earth
    sinking into wet dirt..
    and for her, you see
    I'd bury anything she asked.
    The doubt, the scars
    the man who ruined her dreams and her skin.

    Her body is a battlefield
    It has been since she opened her eyes..
    She lets in the vultures
    who pick at her skin
    and she rips open new wounds
    if they heal closed again.

    Beautiful dreamer, listen to me
    I've never seen a more delicate beauty
    than the freckles on your face
    the dimples in your flesh
    the way your eyelids flutter
    as you're getting midday rest..

Sunday, 20 September 2009

  • she's so heavy

    My eyes are thick with the day's grime. I sit, studying laboriously over trifles of information. I mentioned to you once I use a rhyming dictionary. It was no lie, and now you watch my genius die.

    I can juggle your baggage, up in the air like a carnival clown. And down in the third ring the elephants stand on great painted balls made of rubber, walls of red and white. And overhead, in glowing spotlight, the tightrope walker with her long nose and chin. The music is too loud, the elephants too proud. The rings of fire for the languid lions blaze too hot, too high. The walker in her great yellow poof are now in flame, the blame goes to the ringmaster's bad casting, crude acting, and the popcorn is crunched under fleeing feet. One clown and his receding hairline thinks the fire and corn smells like home, the one he drank into oblivion.

    A spotlight, a tophat.

     

     

     

    That spun wildly out of control. I have no idea what I meant..interesting.

Friday, 18 September 2009

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About Me

  • I am a writer. Not a professional one; not even a good one. I am, however, a writer.