Sunday, May 31, 2009

and over and over and over it goes.





I've been sending letters. I've been writing them, dating them, stamping them and sending them off. But you haven't been reading my letters. You haven't been reading the letters I've been sending to you. Don't you like my letters? They have love and longing sewn between every line. My letters are not signed "sincerely" or "cordially", they don't have "thanks" written across the bottom followed by my name. My letters aren't business letters. Or Junk mail. They aren't sepinas for court, or warrants for your arrest. Although you get those kinds of letters don't you? I wonder if you read those letters. The bad letters. But I know you don't read my letters. My letters are signed with I love you's and nicknames. I signed all my letters with the name only you know. You do remember it don't you? Do you still remember the name you used to call me? I hope so. I hope you aren't mistaking my letters for something they are not. I do not write my letters to bash you. My letters have nothing about hate in them. Though I used to send letters like that. My letters have changed. Don't you know that? I wish you would just read my letters. I've been sending letters. I've been writing them, dating them, stamping them and sending them off. I've been sending you letters. I've been sending them to an address you no longer read letters at. You don't open that mailbox anymore and collect your letters. I've been sending my letters to an address that you'll never get your letters from again. You'll never return to that address to collect my letters. But I'll keep sending my letters to you. And I hope you don't get to read them. You promised to never return to that address again. But if you do, know that my letters will be waiting. My letters will always come. You can count on my letters coming. I wish you could read my letters. I wish you had an address to get letters at. I can't address my letters "The Little Blue Sailboat somewhere in between Massachusetts and Key West". The letter delivery man would not get on a boat and chase after you just to deliver my letters. My letters aren't that important. My letter's aren't that important to the mail delivery man. But my letters are that important to me. And I hope my letters are that important to you. Maybe someday you'll have a new place, with a new address. And then you'll have a new mailbox that will collect my letters. And then you will read my letters. Won't you please read my letters? If you could just read one of my letters you wouldn't be on your little blue sailboat. Instead you would be reading my letters, and you'd be writing me letters back. Wouldn't that be great? You could read my letters. And then I could read your letters. And I would always know when you sent me a letter. Because your the only one that would send me letters. And you'll always know when I sent you a letter. Because I'm the only one that did. I'm the only one that still does. And they are still coming. Believe me, my letters are still being sent. They are still going to the address you are not longer at. But I'll keep writing my letters. I promised I'd send you letters. So thats what I'm doing. I'm sending my letters. My letters that you don't read. But if you did you would know that they all start with "Hi Daddy" and they all end with "I'm so glad you don't drink anymore. I love you" and they are signed "I'll always be Daddy's little girl - Silly". And in between they are filled with stories of my life. My letters are filled with memories of us. When you let me skip school so we could watch Monster's Inc. at the Eastfield Mall. And when we took Max to Camp Massasoit and I was scared because there was a no trespassing sign. My letters would make you laugh, just like your letters made me laugh. My letters are like the PostSecret letters in the book you bought me that you couldn't afford. Except I don't want my letters to be secrets. I want my letters to go to you. I want you to read my letters. You would be proud if you could read my letters. My letters. My letters that I've been sending to you. My letters that you haven't been reading. My letters that I'm writing, dating, stamping, and sending off to you at an address where you'll never go to collect my letters.

numba 1

well well we have had our first shooting of the summer!


...shall we get t-shirts that say "i survived the epic shoot out at 63rd & market"


nash better be okay though.
gotta love that gold grilll.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

weird.

my mind has things it wants to say.
but i dont know what they are.
so instead i'll leave you with this:


Friday, May 29, 2009

F.L.A



Today my mom told me that my dad has bought a small sailboat.
he gets out of rehab on sunday and is planning on leaving right then to sail to key west.

this worries me.

AHHHHHH.

add to the endless list of things carlos has eaten/tried to eat today:

my credit card (completely DEMOLISHED)
my sharpie (lucky i caught that one)
a candle
tape
my shoe.




WTF.
i also dont like listening to the soap queen bash ray.





ray is the fucking man, soap queen.

the fucking man.



also, yeah bike home.
i dont care if its safe or not.
because i dont like waking up to your voice.
or falling asleep to it.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

revolution.

last night i had a dream that Hella Irie turned into a little brown bear and was lounging on his water dish.
it was cute.

today clare and i went to the mission. we met up with sam k and hannah at this really sweet coffee shop.
basically ... get your coffee ... grab a semi-outdoor table ... light up your j.
thats what every one did.
thats what we did.



they interrogated us about our friends. as they would.
and then shit got awkward when we wouldnt tell them anything.

its ok though. because sam spilled his coffee. he made a big scene out if.
it was funny.

it was awkward.


then we met up with kendall and took him to delores.
i dont know how to read him. i think hes just really shy and likes to keep to himself.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

fo sho.









new roomie coming today.
the house is abnormally empty.
dog sitting.
snake feeding.
plant watering.

boredom.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

true blood


Today I had a conversation with a Jamaican man about how I look like his sister and that I should have been born in Jamaica. he then went on to tell me that i am "true blooded".

Monday, May 25, 2009

paint.me

There's more heart-break in her single tear
than a thousand tragic ends...
she twists her hair through her thoughts and sips on stale air
The windows break as she whispers her wishes between crossed-fingers
and three-leaf clover hopes...
She catches snow-flakes on her stomach and tries not to breathe...
just to cope.

She floats like a ghost through smiles and hunger-
flavoured with cynicism that sadness brings her.

And she doesn't sleep, she watches, and waits
for someone to fly through her window and take her away
on swift supernovas to a fairy ballet.

She closes her eyes, and tries, to pretend she's not hurt,
but she cries at the smallest of things...
her fingers are chipped from the nails to the rings
that rust as she withers away at the pips.
She's a map with no roads on or north,west or east...
and she's phoning no numbers on a phone with no beep...
She's talking to angels when she doesn't believe,
and her mind's over-worked but she's feeling naive.

She's losing herself in a maze of emotion,
the cracks in the pavement are starting to open,
she's driving her mad as she stares at the pools in her eyes,
and the beat in her bones killing her

with her lies.

an intense night.

i told dallin tonight that he needs to remember to put down the toilet seat. not because it bothered me. just because ive always wanted to tell someone that. someone that wasn't my brother. he doesnt count.



ari spells really horribly when shes drunk. "sloppy hands" she claims.

dallin thought he was going to puke tonight. im glad he didnt. he hasnt puked since he was 10. if he puked tonight it would have been sad. because that is an impressive record.


got really drunk.
got really high....



we rode to safeway near school just to get cigs and water. and then sat on the stoop for a few hours for old times sake. it was nice. kind of like going back to basics. comforting in an odd way. even though i despised that spot just a month ago.


i'm really cold now. cant really feel my fingers. i rode all the way back with one hand in my pocket and the other holding my hood over my mouth so that my teeth didnt freeze. they were really cold. now we're going to make tea.


i cried really hard tonight. it was necessary. i had alot of fun tonight. it was also necessary.
we had a really nice talk with dallin tonight. im glad we talked. it was nice. and i think we are all a little bit closer now too.


i love my warehouse family.


i love you guys.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

the forever boyfriend

carlos is our forever boyfriend! <3 fuck other dudes.

Nike.

I didnt cry when i said bye to my mom. or my brother. or matt. not when i said bye to my Nana. or my dad. or my best friends. not my dog. or my cousins. or my grandparents. but i cried when i said by to Nike.




and my mom sent me a picture of him today. and i still cant look at him without coming to tears and feeling extremely guilty for leaving him behind when i promised i never would.





em sereht gnorw. <3


maybe.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

"would you like some vegan cookies?"





they were delicious though.







--------------------------
i hope i can sell cherries.

Friday, May 22, 2009

boulder to oakland

I'm going here:




in june.


and then driving back to here:




3 days later.

poops

carlos poops outside now.




he can wipe his own ass!

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

kapoops.


i was just boiling water for tea. and kapoops decides shes going to make her sauce for her dinner.

so she decided she was going to take my water off the burner in order to make her sauce.

"excuse me i'm boiling water for tea"
"well you can boil it on that burner"
"but im already boiling it on this one"
"but you could boil it on that one and im making sauce"
"but im already using this one and i was here first"

IM MAKING FUCKING TEA.

a little R&R.





Why does everyone in this house sleep so goddamn late?


waste of a day people. waste of a day.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Come back.

Somewhere over the rainbow keeps coming on my shuffle.

maybe its because I have 7 different versions of it.

or maybe its a sign.

things I want back:
Nights like that one.
My cat.
My dog.
My baby.
My bri-ski!
Moments like this.
My Matt.
The Tripod.







the soaps.



last night the soaps were playing extremely loud.


and then i woke up and they were on again.









shes moving 2 blocks down.
i'd like it better if she moved to china.

Monday, May 18, 2009

squatter.

"i'm fucking homeless. this is me being fucking homeless. i dont care. i dont care. i just want to be pretty. i just want to be fucking pretty"


quote of the day.
in reality this is you just being annoying.

everyones doing it.




even The O has a facebook. what is this world coming to?

gosh.

i have an incredible urge to be on the west coast on July 12th to see this mans show at the Marin Center for the Arts:

Epic Battle.

Carlos vs. The Pillow.


Sunday, May 17, 2009

I miss Maura.


maura sent me this today. i miss her.



summer.

by the end of the summer i will be a pro at navigating here:




success!

today ari and I successfully went to Marina Park.

...and successfully got sun burnt!





Carlito is learning to play fetch.  its great.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Things.

Tomorrow I want to go here:


why not.


I've been cooped up inside catering to Carlos Sulley's every whim for the past week. So I figured why not blog and pass my time.










I'm just going to forget about it in 3 days anyways.