I have a shred of self-righteousness and stubbornness left in me. nasty fucking personality traits that sear through my skin and brand all of my decisions with the smell of burnt flesh and self obsession. I hate them. but. they tell me that this isn't fair. and I'm inclined to believe them. something has to give. they will not let it be me. » Continue Reading
i think often about the lives i've left. the people i knew, watching me grow, and evolve, and learn how to love, in instagram posts, or the occasional text when someone we knew got married, or had a kid, or died. these people knew me. better than anyone. i was tangible, and concrete, and young, and stupid, and important to them. they watched me fuck up time and time again, and my naivety proved i... » Continue Reading
kinky. they look a lot darker lit up by christmas lights, bruise tonned and shameful. under the bright florescents of the kitchen, washing bottles for a baby that isn't mine, they all but dissappear. there's a metaphor in that. my junior high english teacher would have found it. » Continue Reading
shitty MySpace poetry for the modern whore. i'll never live up to my predecessors but fuck if i won't try. journalists can't join the club. changed my major for a shot at the grittiest type of inclusion. artists, actors, producers. the entertainment industry and the number 27. addictive personalities getting a fix, sold to them by someone with a 9 to 5. i had the option to be the dea » Continue Reading