for some reason, when i'm elevated, words just flow through my brain, and i like to write them down just to see if they're at all coherently fashioned when i read them sober.

DTF, mf

right now...i feel like i'm going to be sick.

i like lightly scratching my lips with long manicured nails.

i like q-tipping my earholes even if i hadn't taken a shower.

i like pushing on canks or burns inside my mouth with my tongue until they feel numb.

i like holding my breath after taking a rip until i feel like dying.

i like telling people exactly how i feel and what i want to do when i'm barred out.

i like eating just enough so that i don't feel like i'm going to be sick.

i like driving down totally random streets in LA and being spat out onto some familiar street.

i like loving someone and showering them with all possible expressions of love.

i like being inside with the lights off to watch the gradations of the sun paint my walls as it sets.

i like looking for the moon expecting to find some dinky shape in the sky but actually finding a big ass satellite.

perfect mistakes

and you're so high that you forg3t that you washed up and changed already and then suddenly realize you already did and you're so glad...

right?

that moment when you're super zooted and you'd been too lazy to get up and wash up for bed but you finally do because your computer's battery is drained and you need to go get the charger anyway so you get up and then you go brush your teeth and wash your face and do your whole bedtime routine and you shut the light off and finally get into bed in your jammies and come online...

xanax: a haiku

i opened the box.

hello kitty was not there.

just a pretty pill.

:D

"before you go to bed, just smile really hard in the dark and you'll wake up a new person."

roland barthes

 "je-t'-aime / I-love-you

The figure refers not to the declaration of love, to
the avowal, but to the repeated utterance of the love cry.

1. Once the first avowal has been made, "I love you" has no meaning whatever; it merely repeats in an enigmatic mode-so blank does it appear-the old message (which may not have been transmitted in these words)."

i get into car accidents when i'm upset

it's funny how when two people love each other, whether it be romantically or platonically, they become more and more like each other. taste, outlook, temperament, sense of humor, preferences, word choice...all these things seem to hybridize in some way when two people become closer and closer. it feels weird to go from having someone to share things with all the time to not having this person you've become so close and similar to around anymore. for instance, there's only one person i know who'd find it interesting that yoni means pussy in sanskrit. or that carl pilkington's show could possibly be the most incredible thing in the world. but i can't tell him any of this stuff for one reason or another. all i can do is thank that person for showing me things that i now love and hope that i could do the same for someone else. i guess all i can do now is stay gold, use my heart, and spread love as if i've got it trademarked.

remember when it was just fun? 

remember you said we'd stop when it's not fun anymore? 

i'm not having fun anymore.

i have some questions

d  y   v n m s s m ?

d d y  v n l v  m ?

d d    v r m  n  n th ng t y  ?

will i grow up from this?

yesterday i didn't cry at all. i probably cried an ocean this weekend but i learned that memories and emotions do not cleanse away with tears. they just leave me with puffy eyelids and salty skin. i've been smoking so many cigarettes the past few days--an excuse for me to take those few minutes to keep analyzing what had happened, what went wrong, why i'm putting myself through this. i realized what's more tragic and pathetic than unrequited love is beautiful, requited love between two irreconcilable souls. i wish i could just be like fuck it, forget about everything that's happened and go back to the way things were. but what's the point now? it was never the way i thought it was.

everything is temporary. 

i will probably never give my heart to anyone ever again but i guess that's worth not having to go through so much pain. i keep a smile on my face as if everything is okay but the truth is i still miss you and love you like a fool.

ily

imy

fuck yes.

heartbreak is a funny thing. it hurts like a mother fucker, probably more than any physical injury (or maybe not, i have no idea because i've never lost a limb or broken a bone); has no expiration date. one would think heartbreak, with all its pain and misery, would be an effective learning experience, but for me it has been everything but.

i find myself in the same situation every time i "fall in love." it always. ends. the same. way. maybe i'm stupid...or i guess i AM stupid. i fall in love too hard and too fast instead of letting myself go once i know feelings and expectations are mutual and the same. i can't help that i'm a sucker for love. but i guess i'm not really because love is supposed to be two-ways...not like this.

oddly enough, this time around hasn't been too whore-ible. maybe, in fact, i am learning something on my journey of love. or maybe it's because i have this conviction that i was wronged and deceived in some way that i feel as though moping is a waste of my fucking time. what's the point of wallowing when the other person doesn't give a shit and is moving along with their lives as if what we shared was, in fact, nothing more than...well, nothing?

and so i live on as if nothing had ever happened. as if i was never hurt. as if i had never been in love. as if i had never met him. because that's all i can do for now to cope with this unbelievable pain.

(somebody's dumb old tumblrrr)

I will never love again.

listening to my drunk dddaddd

stumbling around in his rooom 

makes mee so unbelievably sad.

d. i. s. g. u. s. t. i. n. g.

words

a thirst for knowledge that can only be quenched by whiskey

something comforting like wrinkles on faces or on the sleeves of vintage leather jackets

the blank blocks of the nocturnal cityscape sprayed with astral urine

sandy footsteps on cement

sad mumblings bleeding through the wall

the good pillow and cold blankets

our legs tangled with your navel against my back