I'M HUNGRY

FEED ME POPCORN

cleaning out my shit

i'm cleaning my place and realizing i have no clothes that fit anymore.

yay, but fuck. of course when i finally get to this point, that's when i can't afford to buy new clothes. well i guess i'll just have to walk around with baggy pants, nothing hotter than skinny cut pants all baggy. bustin' a sag, bringing it back ya'll. i have only one pair of pants that fit me properly, and who can afford to replace every single item of clothing? fucking bras. only have one of those that fits now too. shrinking titties, yessssss. i'm looking like mary kate olsen bag lady... the less cracked out version.

plus i've got some rod stewart hairdo shit goin' on. my look is pretty ill. i think i'm lookin a little dyke-y, but lbh, i guess i should be ok with that by now. SNAAAAAP oh yeah i said it.

found out that the jacket i want is backordered until DECEMBER... kinda defeats the purpose of getting it. so bummed. they have olive green but i'm really not down with the olive.

my place, previously in the most disgusting state i've ever seen it in (growing all kinds of alien matter and undesirable living organisms throughout areas of my house, come over dudes!!!), is slowly but surely being resurrected back from abode hell. it's sad that only the plan of having company makes me lift a finger around here. maybe i should have people over more often...

cleaning + dr. dre and friends = an ok night.

in the bag

i think i can do this.

thank you, random people. i'm not dreaming anymore.

workin' hard to take it slow...

can i just say

girls have some really irritating ways of circumventing the situation, and setting themselves up to get hurt. they produce drama out of thin air. it's really not necessary. most of them don't want to believe someone isn't actually into them, and they come up with excuses of why someone is acting a certain hurtful way. hey, maybe they just aren't into you... get over it and find someone who deserves you. the first step to that is believing you're worth something good, though... many of our women, not exactly raised to believe in themselves.

and dudes are usually just incredibly dense and callous, and pretty shallow. they miss the point a lot. get a clue, dudes. and don't jerk people around when you know you have power. both of you do that. stringing some poor schmuck along to make you feel better about yourself isn't cool, it isn't 'scene'(or maybe it is, trying to be scene is retarded); it's just fucking stupid and pointless. it does neither of you a favor.

both sexes are ridiculous. i wish people could just be realistic. not pessimistic, not idealistic, just real. istic. they need to meet each other halfway.

better believe if i am ever in any romantic shit i will be straight up. with myself, and with them.

slice it. open it up.

here's me getting all poetic. whatever. don't judge!

---

these years are variables
twisted together like those fairy tale knotted tree trunks
merging hopes and motives
oil and a water,
that never looked better
gliding side by side.

who's changing the world?
the ego can't but try,
battling itself
battling the rest
defeating the weak,
struggling in unrest

i'm the tiny pincers
my secret spear
this is my hidden hook,
this is the liquid solution
pull out your golden book,
push.
push.
push me again.

it's not enough to resolve,
never enough to pledge,
here's the quest; here's the edge
face the problems unsolved
walk to the pragmatic ledge

love's not my forte
hate isn't either
indifference doesn't come easily
find direction in the reader,
and find a new way.
find a new way,
struggle to struggle harder.

redefine the condition.
redefine the condition!

postscript 3000

i'm not all debbie downer.

sold my tv, here's the fuzzy replacement:


my co-worker laura had a bday today and her roommate brought her an edible fruit bouquet (awesome stuff, those things)... this was my steal:



yeah, wussup, pineapple heart. i mean, it was pretty cool, obviously nothing to write home about... takes more than that to get ME wound up...

no, girl.

tired. stomach hurts. i need to make a resolution to stop bitching. it's obnoxious.

sorry.

this weather is sweet though. jacket weather. makes me nostalgic, remembering starting school when i was little, things i loved about being young.

i'm going to walk the dog and tent myself up in my bed with sedaris.

there's a lot going on. and sometimes i feel like it's all nothing. where's the grit...

but you do help. you do help. and i know i'm incoherent, but i write for me. maybe someday for you. i want it. i want the idea that i'm trying to keep from being an idea.

i will have to pretend, and hope it's convincing. maybe convincing enough that i believe it, too.