The Tree of Life makes you want to weep for hours from a part of your soul you never knew existed. Beauty, beauty, beauty! Teaching me to try and let go of anger and resentment because it leaves you in the same place you were before all the anger. I haven't had a sip of booze in over 5 days...that's the longest period of time I've gone without it in over a year...My love in Philly told me the headaches will go away soon and I'd trust her with my life so I guess I can trust her with my headaches too.

"But why was Tomas the one doing the shooting? And why was he out to shoot Tereza with the rest of them?...She had come to him to escape her mother's world, a world where all bodies were equal. She had come to him to make her body unique, irreplaceable. But he, too, had drawn an equal sign between her and the rest of them: he kissed them all alike, stroked them alike, made no, absolutely no distinction...He had sent her back into the world she tried to escape, sent her to march naked with the other naked women."

-The Unbearable Lightness of Being

all of it cuts into me as actual, sadly, heartbreakingly actual.

I love court rooms. I love judges and their attitudes. I love working with clients. I hate lawyers but I love law. Or as a client told me, I thought I loved law but realized it was justice I loved.

why are all his movies so cinematically beautiful? even though I continue to fall asleep to the thin red line I feel like I could just watch frames of it all the time without caring what the story is.

Disrespected

"rap it"

full ballooned mess,
the tip filled to the top with yet another man's
vision of breasts.
Place them wherever you damn please
(how is it possible you put anyones weakness in their knees?)
so later I can find some bit of satisfaction
in your dog
feasting
on cum
that filled to the top.
Then I realize I'm always the one
picking up your shit anyways
and guess what?
When your little dog shits that condom out
well god dammit it's me walking him and me
whose gotta pull it out.

'baltimore summers, we like our black men with their shirts off'
it's raining everyday and i tried to work on production. walked an hour to do a task that failed..which is why sometimes trying seems silly but the walk is usually worth it.

fucking poor as shit. a familiar morning among mornings that have begun keeping me comfortable. a dogs nose in my face, a fight in an old lady's bathroom. i've begun moping around,sick with the search for partnership unreturned. in many ways the happiest i've been but maybe only because i've stopped questioning and started just trying to accept things the way they are. ive been avoiding death, avoiding books, avoiding movement. and it seems like there is no real way to not avoid things unless you try real hard, which no one wants to do. ive picked up writing again, but i'm scared of what i'll put down. i tried reading again and burnt out. i'm just tired of reconfiguring life into little episodes.