The coffee is churning in my stomach. I just want to listen to the beatles and smoke my cigarettes. But I have one left and the song I want to listen to is not on my computer. Early mornings and late nights drive me through the roof. emotional uproar. I see myself as all these different ideals, i can't choose one so i am them all. a mess. i have a tatoo. of an orange tree and black birds. sitting on the porch i got to watch one eat their breakfast. perhaps a sign. banana pancakes. why has the bachelor degree become the diploma? how come I am spending 120,000 dollars to have a job that will never be able to pay back? and why does it take to get money you must spend some. i will not make it in college. i do not draw neither do i paint. these ideas come to me but i have no abilities. no motivation. i close my eyes and look into the sun and i see a mustard yellow sky with dead trees. perhaps it's the desert or perhaps my soul. dried up. polaroids. black matte board and a series of six. alone in the house with only franny and zooey to provide company. anthem. worldly. indian. european. california. she does acid now. nicotine and caffeine. what a cliche. 2 weeks then ten days until i leave. i'm looking through you, where did you go. mail man where are you. where are the messages on my answering machine. where is my apartment. where is tennesse and kentucky. brush strokes and orchids. the dandelions may just swallow me up. the oranges are falling from the tree. drop drop drop. the orange doesn't fall far from the tree. where have i fallen. where was my mother. unstable sunken eyes. 100's, super longs. virus on my laptop. what a party. so hollow, empty. the familiar faces, only acquaintances, i must drive drunk one says. what big eyes you have grandmother. individuality is a lie. something the artists do to calm their nerves. set yourself in denial. ms. ono did you break up the band? let it be. this is not my time. and neither was yesterday or tomorrow. oh pyschologist what part of the brain do you find me. i'm not on the map. i'm in the mustard yellow desert. with rasberry dessert. green grapes. orange melon. blackberries off the vine that climbs on the fence next to our garden. we left our garden for a small plot of land and a box to live in. i want to shave my skin of and find the real me. you hate my tattoo. i hate your cuts. look around you, this life was not meant to be a tragedy. if you want to be miserable to find happiness you life will be on a dead end road. there's no outlet deary. dreary. hot and muggy. the album is white. the vinyl is blue. the cd's are pink. here comes the sun. everyone's gotta learn sometime.

Humanity i love you because you
are perpetually putting the secret of
life in your pants and forgetting
it's there and sitting down

on it
and because you are
forever making poems in the lap
of death Humanity

i hate you


such strong words. i don't mean it. really. surburbia you are eating me alive. there's no damn good place here. where can i take your photo? no where. where is elise. or candace. or whoever the hell i am. turn the lights off and go back to bed. do the laundry and eat your pancakes. i love you.

i think i want to get a tattoo.

i had joe sketch me up an orange tree and two black bird flying from the branches. I've had many dreams about oranges or orange trees.

anyways it looks really nice.

the winter's breath

i really hope i don't work today.

currently i am reading franny and zooey. perhaps i don't have much to say anymore because i haven'tread anymore. there's something to discuss thats better than " i don't know".

my faher and i used to have conversations when i agreed with him. Now I am constantly insulted and even a little ignored until his guilty conscious eats away at him. Lately I am a "communist" or better yet a "fascist" because i have gone vegetarian. Today he told me "I didn't know I raised Gandi." in a very negative way. Which personally to me doesn't make sense because he was a good guy.

Then again I don't think i should let any of this bother me because my father used to tell me when I was little, " You don't want to play soccer. Soccer is a communist sport."

And my mother just sits there on my father's side because she has nothing to say and much rather be angry and miserable in her life than just support her drama. My family lives on drama.

After feeling very alone, i imagined myself curling up so tightly into a ball that i turned into a period mark in the sentence. I don't say much, but i finish the sentence. I just want to finish.

i wrote a poem a long while back. I have only allowed one person to read, who happened to love it. Unfortunately I know for a fact that joe would hate it and probably tell me it was ridiculous. I've wanted to post it, although it's unfinished but my insecurities hold me back. its ok if i'm not a poet. really. it is.

i miss the winter's harsh night air. where it slightly hurts to breathe but you can feel it in every bone.

and the devil says call me outside,
I'll come running down into the vacant, intoxicating night,
call me outside to their haunted streets, their red electric lights,
I'm on the sad side of a nowhere town,
but sister I'm all you got so call me outside,
I'll come running down 

First fry up onions, green peppers, mushrooms, throw in a little bit of garlic garlic seasoning. Cook until tender and smelling yummy! Put on a plate with cover. Next take 2 eggs, a tad of garlic salt, and a capful of milk. Scramble up. Put scramble eggs in spinach wrap and top with vegetables. Add some salsa and sprinkle on some mozzorella cheese. Eat with tortilla chips

My lunch. Delicious.

I think I need to go to a doctor. For these reasons:

A. I think I have vertigo.
B. I think I am going slightly insane.


And by B. I mean, my thoughts have become cluttered, I don't think actually have one clear thought left. It's a jumbled mess. And when i get upset, it's an overload. I hyperventilate. My throat closes up. My mood is shot for the rest of the day.the first problem leads to other things that have bothered me but decided to ignore
Perhaps my confidence is at an all time low. Perhaps my stress is at the high. I'm on edge. Don't push me over. I won't come back.


“I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till i drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.”
J. Kerouac

keep a jar handy

i want to use my charcoal. The ones that sit on my shelf collecting dust and ideas that go unused.




capture the fireflies.

wailings of the wind

I awoke this morning to my puppies horrific wailing, and for being half-awake, i probably haven't ran that fast in a long time. she's okay now. she just ran into a wire that most likely caught her neck and got scared.

a girlfriend of mine wants me to go on a fast today. no food at all. too "clean" ourselves. Here are the things we are allowed: coffee, water, and cigarettes. (?)cleanliness and cigarettes don't really match to me. no gossip or cursing either. which i like the idea.

my birthday is tomorrow. i work. no big deal though. i really don't have anything planned and no one else does either.

what do people think of me? a constant thought that runs through everyone's minds. even lee's :) . i know some people find me strange. other's quirky. but he finds me plain.
i dont think it will matter in the end, although it is interesting to find out.

got some college stuff today. i have about 8 weeks... I'm a little nervous. a plain piece of paper with a little note saying we must do a self-portrait. we can be as creative as we wish but it must be mounted, this is a tradition of the school.
so immediately i began to freak out, to overthink the whole process. where to begin. what do they consider creative. what other people are going to do. i can't really draw or paint. i'll look like an idiot. the thoughts of why the hell am i going to art school ran through my head.

a strange idea came to my mind and a grin to my face. i think i know what i am going to do. i'm not for sure...but if i do i'll let you know.



oh the wind will not blow me down.