| "stay creepy" |
[31 Oct] |
my favorite color is puke green. who are you?
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| "ob-la-di, ob-la-da" |
[19 Apr] |
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i bought my one-way plane ticket to portland yesterday. i turn 21 in three days.
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| "four years" |
[22 Jan] |
|
 
There is a question I have been wanting to understand the answer to, but have been feeling that I simply can't ask. Eventually I just ask it anyway:
Do you think there was a part of you that imagined the two of you would somehow end up together?
Immediately, I wish that I hadn't. The look on her face—a kind of juddering visceral alarm at what has been said...I don't wish to see that look many more times in my life.
"That would make me way too sad to answer," she says quickly, and I hurriedly begin another question, about something completely different, hoping that if I say it fast enough these new words will chase the old words away from where they are hanging in the air between us, and maybe she will let me pretend that it was something I never said. "No, no," she says, and I can see the tears forming, and I think she means that she doesn't want to answer any more questions about anything. I mutter some kind of apology under my breath.
But, even now, I'm wrong about everything. Mostly she is just trying to stop my new question.
She has something to tell me. "No," she says. "I said it would make me too sad to answer but it's also..."—and she nods even as her voice breaks once more with tears—"...one of my favorite things to imagine." And through the tears, a beaming, almost beatific smile stretches room-wide across her face. "It's actually one of my favorite places to visit."
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| "december 23rd, 2011" |
[23 Dec] |
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i'm still here. painting my nails the same color, sewing a hole in a dress i just bought. i still hate my body in the same way but i'm getting better at ignoring it. mixing my wine with water because i hate the taste of alcohol, i hate metal touching my skin, i hate stimulants, caffeine tobacco, they make me sick to my stomach. still wondering if i'm a changeling, if i'm something, not human, why do snowglobes make me weepy, why do water filled toys make me sad, why do i feel happiest in the bath i don't know. trying hard to not "let myself go" this winter. francesca lia block is my everything but when i sent her a birthday wish she liked everyone else's except mine because maybe i wanted it too much. when i make tea i don't measure it i just shake a bit in the teapot, i just boil the water, i want it to not be a science but chance or art that it ends up tasting better than bitter. chance or coincidence or magic or "it" there is something i cannot name but it is the feeling that you are on the right path, its when your favorite artist covers your favorite song by another one of your favorite artists, its when neil gaiman marries amanda palmer, its when your lover howls at the moon with you without any words spoken, its when you find a twin who knows things only you thought you knew, its when you find something you've always wanted and it fits perfectly. it's not that i love clothes that much it's just that i love surrounding myself with beautiful things. i want my mother to love me as a daughter and not as a friend, i want to her to see where i live and be proud, i bought her a candle shaped like abraham lincoln and a moonstone necklace, i wish for her to live in ireland and be happy and forget that having a child ruined her life and her dreams and her body. the other day i saw a man selling cotton candy like they do at the beach walking between cars on the freeway. i'm the same age as heath ledger in 10 things i hate about you and we're moving to portland in the middle of june.
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