Draft

Makes me feel so dirty, so petty, so shamefully honest. I can just imagine yr reaction if you were to read the things i write you in draft. It would take yr breath away. Yes, love, in the Berlin way. Yr reaction would be nothing but stutter. You'd hate me for making you hate me, the only defense that you could possibly muster. You would have no choice. You would make yr masturbation face.
No, not the cute one! No, dear, but the perverted, twisted look that terrorizes yr fuzzy shower mirror.

Can you imagine just what i would have done to you, had i not this hideous case of subterraneous self-confidence? How unlucky for you, to have to bask in the repercussion of an unfortunately lonely, shameful childhood. I'm not complaining, for i'm just fine! I have plenty to read.

Traffic vs. Tofu

You can think through traffic.
Tofu demands attention.
Traffic has a shelf life.
Tofu has a shelf life.
Tofu is white.
Traffic is colorful.
Music and tofu mix.
Music and traffic mix.
Traffic has no flavor.
Tofu has no flavor.
Tofu is never consistant. Soft, medium, firm.
Traffic is always consistant. Stop, go, stop, go.
Tofu steals all the action.
Traffic has no action.
Tofu and black beans.
Traffic and exhaust streams.
Traffic is loud.
Tofu is mild.
Tofu is the way of L.A.
Traffic is the way of L.A.
30 minutes of traffic makes me hungry.
30 minutes of tofu keeps me full.

CK-1

We haven't been friends for many years, however, i bet she really enjoyed "The Virgin Suicides". Sisters, isolation and sex in the back seat. I'm almost sure that she didn't voice her feelings of congruency. She's too macho-feminine for that type of trash.

Joint property

"there's no time, there's never enough time."--Jessie Spano

My Little Secret

Has grown teeth and gangrene. Life too afraid to even dare touch veins. it waits in the bottom of the puddle in an alley, slimming on its own slipe. throwing tantrums, cage in swing, buttering up the milk like a broody little thing. Dropping aces, jacks and queens. Let us bet on better things!

Girlhood

I'm a little teapot. Short and stout. Here is my handle, here is my spout. When I

get all steamed up, then I shout. Just tip me over, and pour me out.

Condemned to Freedom from, Freedom to

Relating to others is possible, but only within the limits of shared experiences. Woman is totally free and responsible for her acts. This responsibility is the source of the dread and anguish that encompasses womankind. Abandonment is the consequence of individualism. Alienation is a state of divided selfhood in which one is distanced from one's true being and confronts the self as an alien being. And nobody is authentic. You can not be authentic for more than an instant, frozen in time. Because of social pressure, individualism is rejected by you in favor of conformity. Thus, you rely on mainly upon the actions of others and neglect the meaning of yr own personal life. You see yr life as meaningles and feel the inner void.

"To continue in a blind state causes the increases in distractions such as alcoholism, delinquency and suicide. Freedom, however, is only in the choice of one possibility---that is, in tolerating one's not having chosen the others and one's not being able to choose them." --Heidegger

An almost Goodnight

I figured that if I'm not going to be drinking anymore, that i'm gonna look elsewhere for my courage. So I decided to go through my blog and post my drafts. I suppose i'm still not that brave if I won't expose my secret fantasy blog. Whatever, i guess there's no reason to care since most of the audience i address doesn't even read this. Perhaps the point is that it is there if they cared. So ya, goodnight, almost.

My Butterfly Effect

Every decision has consequences and what will be mine? I was told I am notorious for that sort of thing. I want love in the form of distraction. I want anonymity. I didn't want this road, and this wasn't "in flight". This is, my friend, the fight.
I love you. Like I want to marry you, love you. Like when I wake up in the middle of the night to your hand in the air, asleep, quiet, innocent and i kiss you. It is unbearable. Love feels like torture. For this reason,i cannot live here in your world, full time. This is the fight.
It would have been easy to stay. Comfortable, expected and lethargic. You do not love me like I do you. Oh no, it's okay, i understand. In fact, karma owes me a lot more than that, don't you think? Ain't no thing, sugar wing. It was good to hear it out loud. It was very good. You made it real, like it needed to be. It was good to hear all that you said, all that you did. You've never been so real before. I finally made you be mean to me. It is what, secretly, i always wanted, you know. It felt delicious. Isn't that awful? For this, i am thoroughly ashamed.

I will be honest. I love your world. The things you see with your eyes and describe with yr mouth are beautiful and sarcastic and hilarious. Even in its flaws, yr perspective is breathtaking. Though it keeps me forever facinated, this world is not mine. Yr dreams are not my dreams, and to live in yr illusion is no good for me. Because as long as I remain entranced by yr imaginary universe, i will make no dreams of my own. As long as I marvel at love, i ignore the love that I lack. The longer I lay in our slumbers, the less i know what wake is. It is this that is the fight.

Here, on this road, i fight the numbness of mundanity, I fight acute lonliness, i fight platicity, i fight my own dose of self-loathing, i fight traffic. Here, i will make friends, make love, make my cakes and eat them too. Isn't that the way? The murkier the lake, the sweeter the flower? I lost track of my original plan that I had made for myself, the plan I was doing so well with before i moved up there. My head has muted my heart for now, but she will be out again, soon enough.

If you've ever wondered what the difference is between a lover and the loved is, it is that one cries for themself while the other cries for them. I am guilty of both.

Plans for TOnight

I am going to put on my coat and slippers, grab my keys and walk myself down to Walgreens. I will purchase a pack of Parliaments for 4 dollars and sixty seven cents. Then I will walk outside, light my smoke and think of how i want to tell this story that's been stuck in my head since December 29th, 2005.

Twenty-Six

I will probably remain the most immature kid on my block. There are a few semi-explanations though they are tired and unrelenting. First, i am intimidated yet moreso despising of comfortability. If i want action, i can't depend on others to give it to me. Though, on the other hand, just an excuse. It's just that the other actions aren't as simple to work through, it's just that if you want something done right, then you have to do it yourself. The funny thing about that though, is that if something may go wrong or awry then there's no one else to blame.
Creating a scene, and not in a funny Elaine-type way either, makes the reason that twenty six must remain twenty six. To grow older, yes, however to grow younger, never. Immature has gotten me to where I am right now, and so you just gotta learn to live with it if you wanted something else to matter just so as much.