You're probably in Illinois at some gas station, rumbling through your pockets looking for change. You wouldn't have the intention of calling anyone from home with those coins though. Those coins are for beer along the road and for bumming cigarettes from strangers who don't become familiar. I guess your hair has grown out too and maybe you've gotten a little dirty by now but I'm also going to guess that you still have that distinctly aromatic smell of sweetness and musk following behind you. Maybe you are doing none of these things and instead you are just couch surfing from acquaintance to acquaintance and are getting money put into your bank account from daddy to buy your cigarettes and booze. I don't want to think that this is how you're living because it's not how I want to be living but I'm doing that anyway it seems. People don't see you as quiet but sometimes when I think about what your face looks like and how you move when you aren't speaking I think I can sense the quiet part in you and maybe it's just running from the silence.
I miss you. And you. I hope you're dusty out west somewhere so I'm not disappointed.

Ah glorious! Last night was sort of fine as in fine like egyptian cotton. Until that weird shit happened and then I'm not really sure where the lines of conversation were drawn or who I was or where I was or what the fuck was going on. But before all that, the night was fucking beauty.

I've sort of been crying a lot uncontrollably in the past few days. I think it may have something to do with the fact that I have had one too many family engagements and it is cramping mahh style. Ha. But really, it is. Things are sort of strange and in transition. Mr. A has said he doesn't want to see me anymore which is a long time coming seeing as it has been 4 or more months and we are still way too up in each others shit. The thing is, he came tonight with me to my cousins to have a jew ol' good time and for some reason I basically cried, publicly, the whole night. The weird thing (besides me crying uncontrollably in public, of course) was that no one said anything. One woman actually went as far as to ask me a few questions about myself before realizing that there was no way I was going to answer any of them with more than a yes or no, even if that answer wasn't appropriate. My cousin asked me if I was sick and then my sister walked in, in her stockings and backless shirt and I'm not going to lie, I sort of wanted to cry more. I'm also not really sure what the fuck I am doing with men. In that, I don't think I want a relationship but then I sort of feel like a dick for just fucking around. Not that I fuck around, I mean, I have been with the same 2 people for the past 2 years...but now I'm not and it's weird and I'm not sure I remember how I let them in at all. And I'm not sure how you are supposed to let new ones in either. Because, I don't trust the possibility and I don't want to run after anything that comes along just to try and get my mind off of the one who didn't come back at all. It's been a whole week of self-control with him and I'm trying to gauge how it feels in my body to not have the possibility of seeing him or touching him any time soon if at all. Calla is fucking back. Back at home, back in my life, back in my room, back in my house, back, back, back. It makes me want to curl up and just crawl into her stylish sweaters. I haven't gone a day without seeing her and I think I'll have some serious anxiety separation when that happens. I wish this new person wouldn't speak in silly talk. He is too willing to give everything of himself to someone who is so obviously not ready to be responsible, even for her own self.

Fuck Monday.

Tomorrow is Monday. And I can't find the attention span to sit down and read something good lately. I feel that the past 3 weeks have been at a sort of stand still for my mind.

"I went to a cobbler To fix a hole in my shoeHe took one look at my faceAnd said, "I can fix that hole in you"I beg your pardon I'm not looking for a cureSeen enough of my friendsIn the depths of the godsick bluesYou know I am a liarYou know I am a liarNobody helps a liarBecause I've been down to DixieAnd dropped acid on my tongueTripped upon the landUntil enough was enoughI was a little bit lighterAnd adventure on my sleeveI was a little drunkAnd looking for companySo I found myself a sweetheartWith the softest of handsWe were unlucky in loveBut I'd do it all againWe build ourselves a fireWe build ourselves a fireBut you know I am a liarYou know I am a liarAnd you don't know what I've doneBy the rolling river isExactly where I wasThere was no simple cureFor unlucky in loveTo be lonely is a habitLike smoking or taking drugsAnd I've quit them bothBut man, was it roughNow I am tiredIt just made me tiredLet's build ourselves a fireLet's build ourselves a fire"

Jenny Lewis

This shit is interesting. Yo.

The three basic ideas of Theosophy are (1) the fundamental unity of all existence, so that all pairs of oppositesómatter and spirit, the human and the divine, I and thou—are transitory and relative distinctions of an underlying absolute Oneness, (2) the regularity of universal law, cyclically producing universes out of the absolute ground of being, and (3) the progress of consciousness developing through the cycles of life to an ever-increasing realization of Unity.

you know what my favorite days are? The ones when I look in the mirror and don't see all the failures and hurt.

It's those rare glimpses that I think I see a one woman revolutionary. And I know it's bullshit and divine intervention from someone just allowing me a second to see myself in a good light, but still.
I like those days.

He read my book. That's so humiliating. And it's sad because I don't know what to tell him and I don't know what I even think about it. I can't say that I'll change! To be honest, my desire for the unknown doesn't seem to be something that will simply dissipate with time. And I don't want it to. But I wish that he could see that in me and love it instead of fear it or resent it or realize that it means that we aren't good for each other. I don't necessarily want someone who thinks and feels exactly like I do about the world. But yeah, maybe a little more so than he did. Isn't that the whole point of compromise in a relationship? Fuck. I really have no idea. The one thing that makes me upset it how he says that we can't just half be together. That when you're with someone you're with them and you love them fully. And that's what I can't seem to get out of the other. I want to fucking devour someone and the only way to do that is by being with someone who shares my ideas but also knows how to tell me when to shut the FUCK up. Cal does that. She lets me talk and say all my bullshit but at some point when I start to really get the fuck out of what normal people consider to be reality she says, "shut up. bitch." and I love that. *(thanks boooo heheh you make me like a little kid with a crusshhh). I just generally feel like we all have so much to give to one another. Maybe not all of us in the same ways but when you meet someone who has shit to teach you just by being themselves it's fucking incredible, right? So why can't we be that for each other and just flush all the marriage crap down the toilet for now?

I want the tight asshole but I think I gotta give that shit up.
Like sugar cookies and menthol cigarettes too.

Holy shit. I just texted my boss that I was, "out of mah mind on opium last night".

I think now would be a good time to, uh, ya know...like, dieeeeee.

Haiku's are fucking difficult. And he hasn't done shit for me so I'm not doing anything but shitting on him.

A cold time to visit.
On a date with no money.
Pretty, you stick ass.

HAHAHAHA FUCK!

Crisp, fund less but fun.
Free yourself; be a poet.
Return to comfort.

I have too many thoughts and filler for this crap.

I think that is what I so desperately want to rid myself of: any remote part of my mind that still believes in the reality of living. But I know it doesn't make sense. To you.

I've also been trying to figure out who we are in nature. No hippies...we're too selfish for all that. And no bums because some of us have money. Not rebels because most of us are still following the same paths that some one else has followed. Maybe junkies? No, we still feel loyalty to one another. We still love each other in the ways we know how, and I don't mean that as an excuse but as a reality of some peoples minds. We're not even stoners! Quite a few have already gone too far with too many things to be stoners. I guess the disgusting word that gets stuck in my cotton mouth is "fringer". This is why though...

I see this black and red landscape with solitary rocks, miles high with nothing visible near by and then you hit cities with blocks for buildings and sidewalks made out of tightly packed old poets trash. We are all cut outs here and we sit on the edge of the tallest cliff. We all see different shades of the red in front of us and our perspectives are shown in our paintings. Paintings where there are so many shades of red that the mind forgets existence and the structure of the word, 'concepts'. Black in not just a singular thing here, for us. It is not just a "color". It comes through in our words too and the words we tap tap tap on papers or hands or paper cups. I have never heard so many descriptions on the simple perspective of something as common and played out as our very own lives. I love the eccentric. But I don't want to call us that. I'll keep living, for a little while, until I see red and black instead of the red of the first leaf you saw this fall or the red of the lipstick I smeared on my lips as a child just to make sure everyone knew that I had kissed you, the red of the very first time I felt wounded by anyone or anything or any idea or any belief.
I may always be living in the dirt and grime of cities but I'll still like to go to the beautiful places too. I just prefer to see the shame of people and get to escape it while being surrounded and thinking, "we are free, you are me and we have everything and nothing at the same time and we feel everything and nothing at the same time too."

You know what?
I have nothing important worth writing about but a lot worth saying. I want to write a few things anyway and just save the talking for later.

My co-worker (who we will nickname, "God Jr.") bought me a fucking navy blue hoodie with Obama's face on the back of it. The front just simply says, "America's First Black President". I'm pretty happy about that.

Also, I have realized today that my diet pretty much consists of meatballs and cookies...and cigarettes if you want to count that as a food, which I do.

I spent the night picking mushrooms that grew in a field of electromagnetic glass. It may not even exist but I swear I saw it and you'll see it too. I felt shards growing like tumors from all directions. This is the point where we lose all logical reasoning. This is all that breaths life into anything anymore for those who fill blank canvasses with nails, bits and pieces of old cloth and friends they haven't spoken to in long enough that it causes them embarrassment. The face of this has color and a specific shape too but I just see the definition of lips. Lips like sandpaper with the texture of salt grain. My own tongue, now tasteless, reaches out for your words. I spell out your thoughts in tar and spit and remember that nothing can cause disgust when acceptance overwhelms with its weight. I'll run through the public greasy pubic hair, till the curls come out and clump into knots in my hands. I'll be left with the sensation of color and the thoughts of us not wanting the pigment to rot.

I should be working. But my head is in some abstract place as usual. I was thinking this morning, that I would wake up after not sleeping and take the bus to work. Instead, I woke up without having slept and ended up walking the whole way to work. It's nice, walking in the winter, I mean. It wasn't too cold and I still broke a sweat which made me feel productive. I usually love the bus but today I was so glad to see people from a bit of a distance. I didn't feel like listening to any one elses conversation, just the thoughts in my head for today. Meh, I want to go smoke a cigarette but it's only been an hour since I've been at work. Too short to already take a break, yeah?

Spun round and round, eh?

Hm. So I guess this shit cannot get too personal. Since it is public and all. But I've got to make some mention of it, right? I guess we sort of love each other in that ridiculous way. I don't want to sound like an asshole and I don't want the people who really care about me to think I am dumb. But really, we are too perfectly disorganized to not be together for at least a little while.
Finally you reach into my pockets! I may be mixing you with others but I know at least, that I've always fought my hardest for you. I thought you would say how different we are and how, like you said before, we are lost as lovers. But this time, it was different. And in the end all these words weren't needed. Can you imagine? Me? Without expression? The conclusion is that we're mad for one another. Whatever that means. You make me crazy and I do the same to you. So really, we just want to be close and we were in our typical inappropriate fashion. I don't know what love is but I know I've never minded this feeling of insanity.