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Posted on July 07, 2009 @ 11:15 pm
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Thomas -
There was a point when I thought I could never love you more.
Now I know I love you more every fuckin' day.
Every movie I see. Every song I hear. Every shaft of light coming a million trillion miles at just the right angle between two kissing maple leaves, every swordblade of grass, every pebble of warm pavement denting the soft-sweet skin of my cheek. Every single thing in this entire universe is telling me to be with you.
Life goes on but it feels like I haven't exhaled the breath I began before you left. I can wait two years. I can wait ten. I can wait until I am cold ashes in a cold urn, just burned memories of what we were.
I want to press these words into your heart, your head, your hands: anything more than this. I just need you to know. I just need you.
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Posted on June 26, 2009 @ 12:46 am
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tell me how colorado is
'cause it's cold down in texas wonderin' if
writing love songs about you is still healthy
and it's been two years two long
i've just been busy writing love songs
filling my lungs up with smoke
to try and forget you
but i don't wanna forget you
anymore.
---
tell me when and i will be there.
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Posted on June 23, 2009 @ 1:28 am
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fuck this god damn fucking life.
i just want to be with you.
jesus christ.
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Posted on June 20, 2009 @ 12:31 am
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GOD DAMN BEST DAY EVER SUN AND RAIN DOWNTOWN WITH SHADY EROTICA AT POWELL'S EAR PIERCING FUCKIN' DUMPLINGS BUYIN' TIPS GRAFFITI GRAPHIC NOVELS ZINES VINTAGE CLOTHING TIBETAN JEWELRY PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION DON'T EVEN TRY TO BE THIS COOL.
yeah, these posts are definitely getting more coherent.
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| Fuckin' Weird Dream |
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Posted on June 04, 2009 @ 9:36 am
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I remember what he told me.
"You wanna suffer like a bitch?" he had said.
I was driving home, everything soaked in mauve at the end of the world. Looked out the window and ripped the silver foil package with my teeth, clutching the steering wheel with one arm making the veins in my left arm strain against skin. Everything was good. We had gotten away with everything.
I pushed the needle in and released. I figured I would be home before it set in. I smiled, I missed him - it had been just an hour but I desperately missed what we had. It came over me without warning. So fucking good. Warmth and gentle pressure snuck in around me from every limb, blurred the corners of my vision, turned my lips up. The street lights flickered like lighting bugs. And then there were the flashes of red and blue, and the sirens behind me. As I slowed I thought, "what're the chances?" I thought, there goes my future, my everything, but I was too lost in the haze to care. I imagined him approaching my window and what I would say. No desire for excuses. "Officer, I am on so much heroine," I would tell him. I saw him step out of his car, a distant black shadow against the back of my retinas. And then the warmth was overwhelming, and I tilted my head back, and what that stuff was doing to me was almost perverse, sexual, like the God damn best orgasm you've ever had. It squeezed me and made my heart swell and then it was so much that there was only black, and I was asleep, praying for it to be over.
When I woke up, he hadn't even moved me. It was inky dark outside and he had crawled up into the car. I was rested in the back seats wrapped in blankets, and as I came to, they felt amazing against my skin. I tried not to move but my tongue had been hung out and when I swallowed it moved back between my lips and he noticed. He tilted me forward and click-clicked the cuffs around my wrists. As I climbed out of the car and the icy night air began to lick at me, I thought back to what he had said.
"You're gonna suffer like a bitch."
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Posted on May 15, 2009 @ 4:43 am
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i drank
and smoked
and i just want to get out of here without fucking anything else up
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Posted on April 07, 2009 @ 12:34 pm
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Riding with thousands of dollars of camera equipment thrown in the back seat, clove smoke making thick cumulus halos around our faces, fingers and toes out the windows, radio on, hunting down some Sprinkles cupcakes.
Life has been too hectic to post. Apologies - coming soon.
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Posted on March 25, 2009 @ 12:32 am
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Living Room - Tegan and Sara |
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Nutella crépes for breakfast. Mill's End is better than Three Roots. Hummus menáge-a-trois (garlic, roasted red pepper and basil) and Mediterranean thin crust pizza (artichoke, prosciutto, feta, onion, tomatoes and arugula) from La Bocca for lunch, eaten outside on the patio with Liz and Joey. Emma makes me get tragus piercings in the afternoon.
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Posted on March 21, 2009 @ 2:12 am
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One of Those Days - Joshua Radin |
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We had a conversation as if we were jilted lesbian lovers. I'm tired and stressed. Eight hours editing at the same computer screen and I had to fall asleep on the hot concrete with an Odwalla in my hand. Tonight I met Caleb from Portland and his professional BMX-riding British buddies headed to a shindig in Casa Grande. There couldn't be a worse time for Emma to come into town. It's going to be amazing.
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Posted on March 18, 2009 @ 10:24 am
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Ceiling Song 2 - Ethan Rose |
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Joey and I go work out for the second time in two nights - I hate it, but it helps. I've started taking multivitamins as well. When I'm through, Monica calls and tells me she came in to town, after all. I meet her, Gina and her best friend Ashley in the parking lot, just like old times. The four of us - me having not-so-subtly blown off Joey - go to smoke some hookah at King Tut Café. The four of us share sweet melon and pineapple, blowing smoke rings lazily in each others' faces.
Chris, his room mate and his cousin show up about an hour later and, at my suggestion, get a bowl of blueberry mint. Monica and the girls leave not too long after - I decide to stay, in order to avoid a complete sausagefest. That attempt is rather undermined, however, when a group of four other men show up next to us with something called "the special," and, with Monica's unfinished hookahs, we completely tangle the hoses passing all the variously colored ones between us, most of us double-weilding, some triple- or quadruple-fisting a whole rainbow of nozzles and flavors.
When the laughter has quieted and the hits are growing weaker on all ends, we decide to bounce. In the car I've got the beginnings of a wicked headache, so the cousin passes me a flask of vodka and I take a swig. When they drop me off I'm not feeling much better, but I call Sarah to see if she and Jennifer are still up - I catch the last ten minutes of Vicky Christina Barcelona and then feel so dizzy I have to leave. As I get up, a wave of nausea and lightheadedness hit me. I clutch my stomach and ask Sarah to point me to the restroom - she moves to unlock the door, and the last thing I remember is the silver gleam of the door handle....
WHAM.
I'm on the floor, and there is a warm pressure all over me. I am certain that Jennifer is lying beside me on the floor, but a hazy aura prevents me from looking. "Drink some water. Drink some water," I hear. Someone lifts my hand to the soft, cool plastic and I feel for the top.
"Is it open?" I mumble, sticking my finger into the top. There is a sharp beating at the back of my skull. The cold wood floor feels amazing. I go back to sleep.
"No, no!" they shout. "Drink some water. Please."
"I can't lift it," I slur through a field of stars. Then, blinking as if the clouds have parted, "Did I pass out?"
They both laugh at that, nodding although I can't see them. "You don't remember it?"
I push myself upright and bring the water to my mouth, taking a few tentative swigs. Look up at them standing over me from the floor and shake my head with a slow smile. "God, I'm so sorry. I'm a mess."
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Posted on March 17, 2009 @ 12:21 am
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Every Man Has A Molly - Say Anything |
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I am STD-free!
So much shit's been happening that I haven't got time to post about it all. But, to start with what's most important. After the disaster that was breakfast last week, Matt called me that same night and invited me to come to the mountain with him the next day (Wednesday). I was shocked. Needless to say, I had to work, so I had to turn him down.
He called again during lattes with the ladies on Thursday. "Speak of the devil," I murmured. He was cordial, inviting me out for different dates both Saturday and Sunday - I told him curtly that I was busy and would call him back when I knew better what my schedule would look like. Of course, I didn't call him the following day, or the day after, and was completely sure this would be the end of it. By the end of work on Sunday, however, I was missing him, and I knew that if I never heard from him again with the ball having been in my court, I would hate myself. Since I don't believe in regrets, I gave him a call.
He didn't answer, so I left a brief message: "Hi, Matt. It's Delen - I haven't got anything substantial to say, just missed the sound of your voice." Short and sweet, right?
He called back about two hours later, while I was in a writing group with a few film students.
"Did you really miss my voice?" he said.
"No," I replied. "But you believed me, didn't you?"
We had a nice conversation, made semi-sort-of-tentative plans to see each other some time in the coming week and left it at that. Almost in the same breath, Monica lets me know that her cousin, Andrew, who avid readers will remember as the Mexican boy who I fell desperately in love with over Superbowl Weekend, is interested in me. I had given up holding my breath for his call, but here it is, and I don't know what to do!
Two boys - almost three, since Garrison from Independent Film is on the verge of making a dinner date with me - and I haven't got the foggiest what I want. Between work, finals, volunteering and everything else on my plate, I don't have time for a relationship. Much lest testing out three. Sigh.
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Posted on March 15, 2009 @ 2:02 am
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even after that debaucherous breakfast
he called
and asked me out.
i told him i would call him back
but i haven't.
i told everyone he was an asshole so that i wouldn't feel bad that we never got anywhere.
because a part of me thinks that maybe i might love him.
but i still don't know
if i will call.
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Posted on March 11, 2009 @ 12:41 am
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Every Little Thing - Dishwalla |
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I didn't kiss you because I'm misguided enough to think I'll ever see you again. I did it because I thought it would be poetic. To kiss you, to whisper 'I hate you,' to climb out of the car, close the door, and never see you again.
Last night (two nights ago, I suppose) Liz was running a fever. Matt wasn't answering his phone, so I went to visit. We drank tea and watched Waitress and talked for hours about our issues. When our craving became too much to bear, we left for Denny's and pancakes, fries, hot chocolates and vanilla milkshakes.
As we walked across the overpass, silhouettes against the headlights of the cars underneath, I talked about how difficult it is to give up on the life I'd created with him. She didn't tell me to get over it or to move on, and when I asked her how I can live forever without knowing that he might ever come back, she said "you've just got to believe he will."
And I smiled. Because I do.
I woke up and walked the few miles to his apartment: he met me boxer-groggy at the door, took me by the hand and led me upstairs through the dark where we fell back into bed. We lie in, our skin sticking to one another, massaging sore muscles, kissing without tongue, touching toes, switching positions, breathing slow and then fast. And as I slide my fingertips over his shoulder blades and feel our stomachs press together, it hits me that this is not just a stranger, but another human being who makes soft moans and whimpers, little twitches in his sleep, composed of atoms and matter just like me. When we are up and dressed hours later, he is so beautiful but somehow, all of a sudden, so distant.
I don't realize until later, after he takes me to breakfast, after stilted, tortuous conversation, after the waitress winks at me, after he doesn't offer to pay, after my head is spinning from confusion on the short car ride home, after nonsense about white suits, bill rolls and yachts, after I am stretched out on a chaise beside the pool in the hot, hot Arizona sun. It is only after all this that I realize he never intended to call me.
I will never see him again. And that's fine. Because I would never have loved him.
In the afternoon, eating chocolate malted Easter eggs and watching Friends, I tell Brittany that I will love her forever.
"Right back 'atcha," she says.
Right back at me.
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Posted on March 06, 2009 @ 11:54 pm
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i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know
you don't know me well enough for this.
i just missed waking up next to him.
i just missed his lips and his fingers and the curve of his back and the freckles on his chest.
i just missed the soft-quiet sobs as we laid in bed, missed when he set his glasses on the bedside table.
you don't know me well enough for this.
but you know me well enough to know that i'm just using you.
i can't do this.
and i can't have sex with you.
i can't have it hurt this much for the rest of my life.
i can't not ever be happy because those kisses were his and not yours.
i can't measure everything forever against what we had.
i can't ever ever ever ever ever forget how much i love him.
i want to go back to no complications, no naked skin, no late night movies.
i want to go back to backseats of cars, gardens, burgundy curtains, first times, open, honest, unashamed, unabashed, uninhibited, understanding, slow, gentle, fast, forever.
i love you so much i'm probably fuckin' insane.
i need you.
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Posted on March 04, 2009 @ 11:43 pm
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When Your Mind's Made Up - Glen Hansard |
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Matt invited me to the midnight screening of Watchmen tomorrow night. Ambivalence. I am curious as to whether the liquor-fueled flames, a combustible combination of hormones and spirits, will be rekindled by his rogueishly Ashton Kutcher-esque good looks. Time (about 24 hours, to be exact) will tell.
Also, Garrison, the cute film major who I met in my Independent Film class just this week, might be coming around. I walked him home after class and when it was time to part ways, he asked for my number and if I'd like to hang out over the break.
I don't know. I always tend to think men are amazing in the first few hours and then quickly discover how wrong I am, having to do the whole rapid backpaddle thing to avoid being mired in yet another unsavory situation. That's the reason I had to suffer through an hour long discussion of Mao's Little Red Book with Jim over lunch this afternoon.
Tomorrow we get up at the buttcrack of dawn to hike Camelback. I've got new film loaded in the Holga (6" x 4.5" this time 'round) and am super stoked. Things have been looking up for me. Let's hope they stay that way.
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Posted on March 03, 2009 @ 1:38 am
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Returning hundred-dollar dresses that smell like clove smoke and sangria, falling asleep with beautiful bisexual men in my bed.
This is the life we lead.
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Posted on February 25, 2009 @ 11:54 pm
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I am so exhausted, I've neglected a whole pile of posts.
I am working non-stop, sore, sick, binging and attempting to keep up with homework. All I want to do is blow hundreds of dollars on ridiculous shoes. Is that so much to ask?
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Posted on February 22, 2009 @ 2:56 am
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That. Was a disaster.
Work this morning was nice. Tony is hilarious as usual - he ran a marathon this morning and took 20th place, all before coming in at eleven to clean the machines (which he taught me). I asked to have this Saturday night off to go see the Vagina Monologues, which he more than agreed to.
After, I went with Sarah and Jennifer to do some shopping. At about ten, Liz, Bianca, Katie and myself went to a rather lame but well-decorated mardi gras party. It was conversational (but that stupid migraine-inducing bitch Jasmine from Dramatic Analysis was there) and there was free food, but we left soon after in hopes of finding something better. After a quick stop at Sonic to flirt with the boy working the window, we turn up at a party with David. There is no liquor, so we sit in the corner to do more or less what we had been doing at house we had just left, but with less food and more trash.
Before too long, two brothers get into a spat and, in his rage, one upturns an entire table of beer pong right on top of the four of us - soaked. Beer in our hair, our new blouses, our skinny jeans, gold heels, designer purses, the fur of our coats, smearing our makeup and making us smack our lips. We attempt to leave, but the fight has moved outside, and bloody punches are being thrown against the front door, making it impassible. When we finally leave, we have nowhere to go but back to Sonic, and then to Liz's place, where we mix wine with our cherry limeades and watch Moulin Rouge.
Seems like there's been a lot of "girls' nights" going on around here.
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Posted on February 21, 2009 @ 1:54 am
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Cannonball - Damien Rice |
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I am a complete mess and so behind on posting.
On the upside, shopping was amazing at Buffalo Exchange. I found a million designers for below cheap, including Vera Wang, Roberto Cavalli, David Bitton, Ella Moss, Dolce & Gobbana, Express, Diesel, Guess, Lucky, Marc Jacobs, BCBG, Betsey Johnson, Free People and about a thousand more. A lot of them I wanted to purchase just on principal - I mean, a $180 dress for twenty bucks? That's almost criminal.
I spent about $150, most of which I had in trade credit. Got two pairs of Seven For All Mankind jeans, which I might return if I can't get used to sucking in this gut of mine. We had a re-orientation at work this evening and then I hung out with Sarah at Jennifer's apartment, drinking lattés, listening to acoustic guitar and watching Sex and the City.
Now that I've finally risen from my spending slump, I'm afraid I'm going to have to go on a serial-shopping spree. Next I need some wicked shoes. Thoughts on these? Totally too-cheap-looking?
Any links to places to look at designer shoes around $50 would be amazing.
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Posted on February 19, 2009 @ 1:37 am
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chipper |
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Last night I watched Blast from the Past with Jennifer. It was nice just to have a girls night - we ate slices of an enormous caramel-chocolate-walnut-fudge apple her mother had given her for Valentine's, and wore slippers curled up on the couch under an oversized blanket.
She is starting a Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs read-along which I am stoked for. I think I have until the first of March. That's no time at all.
When I got off work tonight, Joey and I went to My Big Fat Greek Restaurant (I had mousaka) and then met Brittany, Trevor and Sydney at the library for a late-night meeting of the minds.
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