| You give me the good look |
[27 Jul 2005|10:53pm] |
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"and she was"-talking heads |
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Seven months down the line from the previous entry...http://atlanta.craigslist.org/roo/86269078.html - life doesn't get any better than this.
Let's say the ending to this story is a happy one. Everything was worth the gamble and love is finally for keeps.
p.s. meet me in Puerto Rico soon, let's build the treehouse of our dreams
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[28 Nov 2003|02:16am] |
So tonight will be the last night my sisters, mom and I will share together under this little humble apartment in which we've called our home for the past 8 or so years (12 years counting the total years we've lived together after the divorce). I guess in what seems like the most imperfect timing, it sort of is perfect timing. With it being thanksgiving, I'm thankful that out of the many turbulent times spent here at "Timbers" (which actually now with the new transfer of ownership has changed the name to the "Woodchase apartments"), I am able to leave this place closer to my mom and sisters more than ever. Jesus, I am really still in shock. I feel like this is the final season to my life's sitcom, which will eventually go into syndication and have a flop spin off when I move to New York, kind of like that one Party of Five spin off with Jennifer Love Hewitt, I forgot what it was called but I don't even think it made it to its third episode. Wow that was total mental diarrhea. The day we had our "family talk" me and my sisters went out to a drive together just talking about all this crazy bullshit thats going on. My second oldest sister, Tin said something in which we all knew but never spoke about, "I guess I always knew us living like this wouldn't last forever, I just wasn't expecting that day to be this week". We all just sat there quietly, agreeing in silence. Our thanksgiving luncheon wasn't as formal being that we were surrounded by boxes and crap. We were packing in between eating which was pretty weird. We all had made plans a week ago to watch "Love Actually" after lunch but my mom wanted to finish packing so she stayed. Me and my sisters picked up this new inside joke saying that we copied off Jaime from "Rich girls". We scrunch up our shoulders, turn our lips into frowns as we pretend to suck from a cigarette and say in our raspiest voice "this is fuckin ridiculous!". In between taking strolls down memory lane, there will be a moment of silence followed by a "this is fuckin ridiculous!" followed by bursts of laughter. So yesterday the thought of informing friends and people I know had crossed my mind. I mean, I don't really talk to any of my old friends anymore but I pondered on the thought of one of them one day trying to call me out of a whim to "catch up" or whatever and some elderly woman saying sorry that they had the wrong number. There were only 3 people I called. One of which didn't pick up his phone. Which I guess is another reason why I'm posting this public, maybe people will catch on. So wheres everyone going? Well moms moving in w/ the bf in Moraga. Sisters are going with dad in his new house in Vallejo. Me? Well from what it looks like, I will be inbetween my grandma's Oakland house and Moraga for the next 2 weeks until finals are over then possibly Morago for the remaining months before I go to New York. The thought of actually having my own room is actually exciting, although the idea of how it will be living somewhere very foreign is not so exciting. But I guess its a part of life. The punches are thrown and you just have to roll with the motherfuckers. So I guess I have to prepare for some major changes. I won't be with Jay as much. I have to quit my job. I will be asking Joe Gambucci to pass the salt during dinner time. I won't be kicking Tin at night from waking up to her insane scratching. I won't be yelling at Lauren to get off the internet and read a book. and I will most probably step off my throne as teh internet queen. So this is my last entry. I guess its good in a way because this whole dependent relationship I have with the "internet" will come to its close and my vicarious living through livejournal and all these less than ideal neo millenia alternatives for human interaction will be cut off. If its one thing I realized about this whole different life of needing to know about people is that it takes away from the mystery of life. Anyway thats like bottom of the list. So all the things I've wished I've said but never said and now will, aka Final words: 1) As much as I've disdained all these shit narcissitic community journals, I actually found them quite entertaining 2) I think "belowsurface" is the most intelligent human being in this planet, you may never read this but you are truly an amazing person, its too bad I will never meet you. 3) "Thehorrorshow's" comics are 5 ninja stars all the way, see you in apecon with your own stand, signing my personal copy of "doug's" picture. 4) I really miss our friendship Dre, but I guess time changes a lot of things. I really hope you find whats truly makes you happy one day, whether it be gardening, writing more or flying a kite with the person you are inlove with. 5) Dustin, eventhough you won't tell me when your birthday is I will wish you a happy birthday anyway and this greeting is for every upcoming year as well and one more thing: "kkkkk" = harsh cold sounds. 6) Wilson is Paul McCartney and Bill the Butcher in one. 7) I was on friendster and myspace at one point but cancelled my account in fear anyone would find me (even with my alias) 8) Last but not least, to one of teh people I consider as one of my close friends but have probablly never told them in person, I will spare the name to still keep some mystery and because well, ambiguity rules. Anyway, you know who you are: I think you are one of teh most talented people I know. You're good at what you do, it never ceases to amaze me. Your sincerity, compassion and empathy is rare in most of mankind, which is ashame but then again wonderful because running into people like you is teh spice oflife. It doesn't really matter if this is reciprocated because I just want to let you know. Eventhough the boundaries of this being platonic and nonplatonic may seem blurry to a skeptic, this is probably the only time where I've felt...well i can't put it into words really. I'll just use an analogy. When I watched "lost in translation" I completely understood the love in a friendship at a purely platonic level, without the desire to take it further than that and enjoying it solely for what it is, the pleasure of good company. Thank you.
And with that said, here's to tomorrow, whatever tomorrow may be.
I think I'm ready.
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| to be cont |
[24 Nov 2003|10:50pm] |
You drag your lead on paper like a ruthless cunning thief
steal my heart and break it leave the change on the table
I wish to be more sincere but somehow i just cant see
steal my heart and break it leave the change on the table
my purpose, their desires and my lack of philanthropy
steal my heart and break it leave the change on the table
you say you've lost faith, child perhaps you never had it to begin with
steal my heart and break it leave the change on the table
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| The Postman is the king of Pavements (#12) |
[15 Nov 2003|01:05pm] |
ok...i think i'm ready -----------------------------------------------
Who are these people who say hello? Through the telephone When no one is even there When no one is even home
Who are these girls who worship monitors? They’ve forgotten their lines Won consolation prizes And euphemized curse words
Who is that man who cuts the cow? His wife has left him Their daughter hates him His laundrys gone fowl
And it was you that I remember Cast a shadow on the wall And it was you that I remember Who catches sunlight when it falls
The postman is the king of pavements The queens lost all her pearls Your letters float through endless oceans Yet no one reads a single word
Where are the men who steal your garbage looking for lost pictures of many long lost sisters the bells are now alarming
Where is the virgin, where did she run? its half past three shes gone in the fields her ironed dress is now undone
Where is your husband, Mina Loy? he's lost somewhere in Mexico at least thats what they told you so the beds become a void
And it was you that I remember Cast a shadow on the wall And it was you that I remember Who catches sunlight when it falls
The postman is the king of pavements The queens lost all her pearls Your letters float through endless oceans Yet no one reads a single word
why does the postman wander these streets? when does the queen confess her defeats? why do you write these personal letters? do you write them so you won't forget her?
so catch the sunlight once again go catch the sunlight when it falls so catch the sunlight once again go catch teh sunlight when it falls when we are lost we are all lost go catch the sunlight when it falls
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| Happy happy birthday ya yagster! |
[12 Nov 2003|11:42pm] |
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"Queen jane approximately" - bob dylan |
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Today is my dear sister, tin tins (aka rin tin tin k9 cop, oh she used to despise that nick name everytime it came out of my mouth) birthday. It is just not ANY ordinary birthday,it is her sweet 16 birthday. I couldn't sleep last night so I stayed up until 2 am decorating the living room w/ streamers and birthday signs. I was trying to be as slick as a sly fox now that she sleeps in the living room and I tiptoed around her taping up the birthday banner above her head. Earlier this morning, I woke up to one of her crazy friends screaming like a fuckin maniac. Due to my lack of sleep I felt like telling them to shut the bejeezus up but I stopped myself and felt happy for my sister as I overheard her say, "omigawd, you guys are the best...ever!" Yesterday she was saying how she always wanted to be one of those girls who recieves those big bouquet of balloons from her friends and walks around with them all day at school. I was secretly happy to see not only a bouquet of balloons by the piano but also a cake made by one of her friends and the coldplay dvd I was about to get her but couldn't because I was broke. We had a nice dinner here w/ all her friends and lauren's friends too. It's weird how theres this unspoken understanding that I don't talk to them and they don't talk to me...it just feels weird to warm up to them. But I should loosen up, I remember always thinking those type of older sisters that weren't friendly were such major assholes. Now I've become that asshole to them, but I really can't break out of this image that I've created for myself. I think I used to like the sense of fear I would get from them when I would pull up to john muir back then but now its just making me look like so old and bitter. I don't want to be the bitter older sister with a toothpicks up my ass. I should really stop. But I tell you, once you've established a certain persona with a certain group of people its just not that easy to all of a sudden be a different person. Its funny observing tin and her friends, its like looking back at my highschool years but with different faces. Were we really that obnoxious and loud?! haha...yeah we sure were! Now Lauren and her gooftroop pals are another story, they were missing for half an hour as lauren gave them a tour around our apartment complex taking pictures. Why was I not surprised when she showed me pictures they took of themselves sitting inside the washing machines and dryers in our laudromat, complete with planned poses and tilt head smiles? Kids, they're fuckin crazy sometimes...god I wish I was a kid again.
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[11 Nov 2003|09:58pm] |
there will be moments in your life where you feel that you have failed. and so with failure follows experience and a note to self that when the situation arises again in the future, you will conquer that motherfucker and show them whos fuckin boss.
that situation came forth today, so did i win or lose? i can't really tell you...I guess in some ways I lost because the me then after learning from my mistake promised the me now to never let my emotions get in the way. Maybe its just inevitable for me. I mean I was astrologically cursed as a scorpio, so inhibiting emotions when you're at your emotional peak is like...fuckin....eating mashed potatoes w/o any gravy, butter or salt. But then again I guess I also won. I told her everything I ever wanted to say, everything from her treating me like a fucking turd to her being the most disrespectful human being I have ever crossed paths with. I was so angry and outraged that I was shaking and my voice was trembling...the last time I was ever that angry was with my dad.
If there's anything beyond being so fucked up in the world, it would probably have to do with bringing up a topic about someone that the other person loves and using that as your fuckin ammo in an argument. That's what she did and I fuckin went ballistic. Anyone that does taht has no heart.
After getting off I didn't really know what to do. I just sat there and contemplated on who to call and it summed up to practically one whole hand, probably less than all five fingers. But even then my options were slimmer because I didn't feel comfortable enough calling those people. Which is why I guess I'm here posting public. It's strange because I don't even know if anyone is reading this but its more comforting as opposed to posting this private. Then it wouldn't be any different from me just having these thoughts to myself.
Its really ridiculous to me some things that people worry about...some people worry about their air conditioning in the car being broken or how they go about complaining about people they hate all day, or whether someone namedrops...those things just don't fuckin matter to me. Sure it makes entertaining conversation fillers, but all I really want is to have a good relationship with my dad. That and to have every relationship I have with anyone to mean something. At this point, I don't really have room for anything that lacks substance or meaning. I just want things to matter I guess and taht means more to me than anything else in the world.
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| soliloquy #12 titled: Marianne's last letter |
[09 Nov 2003|05:22pm] |
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"samson" - regina spektor |
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lets push en push en push en push en push en push en push and
let's sleep cradle and weep we cradle and weep we cradle and weep we
lets hold on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and
lets hide in the garage in the garage in the garage in the garage in the garage in the
lets break bread confess our sins confess our sins confess our sins confess our sins confess our
lets always promise to break our promises to break our promises to break our promises to break our
let's hold steady don't u let go don't u let go don't u let go don't u let go don't u let go don't u
let's make paper planes to the moon they'll fly to the moon they'll fly to the moon they'll fly to the moon they'll fly to the
let's never finish.... promise?
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| red head supreme |
[05 Nov 2003|11:46pm] |
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"under control" the strokes |
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 The rain's a tease, come play with me already. Adam Greens in town tomorrow night. and Happy Birthday Wilson...make a wish....
p.s. pick of the month: "racoon red" beer
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[03 Nov 2003|12:38am] |
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"developing active people" - via audio |
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I want to write songs and not tell anyone about it. I admire this jessica martin, she's good. The rain has finally made its way to California, things are definitely looking up and I can't help but feel great right now. My dad will be moving into his new house that he just bought in Vallejo. A really nice 3 bedroom with a great backyard....I'm really happy for him, I really am. He says he will marry Evelyn...that I'm not so happy about. Pumpkin pancakes are great. I have fallen inlove with Michael Buckley's writing after reading his short story, "The Meticulous Grove of Black and Green". I miss Boston and New York, I can almost taste how good life will be there. I also went out for a change with my coworkers (Nicki, Sarah and Molly) we went to this bar in San Jose called "Toons". I don't think I can ever do that again. Sigh...I'm getting old, either that or this atmosphere is just getting old.
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[27 Oct 2003|10:47pm] |
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"dreamboat annie"-heart |
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Post birthday: -I fall on my back due to a senseless accident in the senior center, my right arm is sore. -skateboarding in the empty parking lot of target is currently #1 on my list -"the essential heart" 2cd compilation is #2 -still trying to mentally recapture a most likely non existant missed connection between casablancas and I -my car's tire explodes today like a pinata that has succumbed to a 9 year old's desperate yearning for a sugar fix, yet somehow the day was nothing less than wonderful -good company is like mixing sourcream and brown sugar together and dipping your strawberries in em -I am now well versed on Saddam Hussein (or I'd like to think I am) -2 pimples on my nose, is this a sign for me to consider the wicked witch of the east costume for the upcoming halloween carnival? -and with the recent dark issues at hand taking place worldwide, as well as in south california and even within close promixity such as danville, I am thankful for every moment that I am alive...
rest in peace
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| blow the candles |
[24 Oct 2003|12:10am] |
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"under control" the strokes |
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It is 12:10 AM and I am now officially 23 years old. 23 years ago, on this same day my parents had some crazy one night stand I figure and concieved a lovechild in Paris, which is yours truly (moi). They named me after one of their favorite actresses at the time, Catherine Deneuve. One of the most memorable birthdays I can remember, and I don't know why because it wasn't particularly significant, there was no big party, no big feast, just a small humble get together with my mom, dad and sisters when we all still lived under one roof in our own house back on 69th avenue (I was such a naive kid that I never really caught on to the humour behind "69th" avenue). Anyway, it was my 11th birthday and all I wanted for my birthday was a walkman and a Paula Abdul poster for her 'spellbound' album. And to my delight that was exactly what my dad got me, a black sony walkman with headphones and a rolled up paula abdul poster. I was stoked as hell. Those were good times.
Two nights ago, I spent the night at Jays and I started a new painting. A relatively smaller one than the two wooden panel that is now on pause due to lack of ideas and inspiration or whatever. I was feeling down again and we had planned to watch all the dollar videos we picked together at Rasputins, but I didn't want to waste anymore time doing anything nonproductive so I picked up a paintbrush. I've been really jocking the color Pink for awhile now, its so fuckin pretty isn't it? I just wish I had teh power to change the worlds tint to various pinks for just one day. Everything from teh grass to peoples poo would be pink, god what a wonderful sight that would be. Anyway after grinding myself with trying to come up with new composition and techniques, I was ready to succumb for some good ol dumb tube fun. We watched "Heavy Traffic" a experimental, somewhat abstract cartoon created by Ralph Bakshi which is a reflection of the turmoil, struggles and representation of street life in New York during the 70s. Animation was pretty shotty and hilarious, think fat albert on crack. That is the best way I can describe it. Lingo was jive as fuck but also gave a window into the time of the 70s with the casual use of "nigger" and the last bits of racism that still lingered then. Crude as hell, with the humorous exaggeration of tits, dicks and ass. It definitely set a foundation for a lot of the graff/street artists that are prominent in that particular scene like reas or mcgee. And might I add the soundtrack was superb! some old school underground soul and funk cuts that made the bizarre moments of teh movie more easier to swallow (like when Jesus shot God.....uh...yep). Anywho, today all I really plan on doing is celebrating with the kids by bringing in cupcakes and drinks then later going out to dinner at this cambodian restaurant in Oakland w/ my mom, sisters, jay and Joe Gambucci. Haha, I like that I think I'll refer to him by his full name from now on.
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[20 Oct 2003|01:28am] |
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"band of gold" |
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I got high today for the first time in a long time. after i swore i would never smoke again. after i promised myself i wouldn't because of how dumb I always feel after. and how paranoid it makes me. and how it worsens my anxieties. and jay said he would never smoke in front of me. or around me. yet he did. and has. and asked if i wanted to. and i said yes. anyway, i did not hold back whatsoever and sucked that pipe like it was a slurpee. bad idea. I almost broke down in a really bad panic attack. and surprisingly going to the park, something i can never get into to, has calmed me. i drew. took pictures. of jay. Yesterday jays mom prepared a nice birthday dinner for me. going back to me being high, I just remembered something thats why. We were in the car listening to KFOG, I've been liking KFOG as of late, but pink floyd came on. you know that song that "another brick in the wall" anyway, being high and all...if i didn't know anybetter, i think that song had some evil subliminal subtext. i really do. so i broke down into another basket case moment again in jays room. its always in his room i notice. i swear i don't ever wanna feel that way again. i felt like shit for infinity. on a lighter note: wilson told me that ________ once had a crush on me. that makes me smile. lets end it on that lighter note. shall we?
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[08 Oct 2003|11:42pm] |
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i just can't anymore...i'm sorry
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[07 Oct 2003|12:33am] |
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"love will tear us apart" -joy division |
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she dreams of meeting at some middle point amidst the synthetic fog and neon lights, amidst the sweat, amidst the sea of flailing movement, amidst hesitation... the moment is now right here with you with me as ian curtis' haunting voice lures us to our predetestined middle point don't say anything... dance with me.
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[05 Oct 2003|02:41pm] |
I wrote you an email. I erased and restarted it about 5 times, hating it even more with each new start. I wasn't sure what to say exactly, I wanted to tell you how sorry I felt and that I hated the fact that the word "sorry" was the only way to express my feeling and how I felt nervous writing to you because what I had to say was probably nothing new but I just wanted to let you know. Reading what I read had triggered tears. It was strange because the reasons were many. It was part fear, part empathy, part mom's boyfriend with his stern voice and unkind eyes, part feeling I have not wanted to exist the past months, part dad and the past week, and part joy division. All those things at that very slice of the moment. And then I felt ashamed. For even mixing my own personal thoughts with what I had just read and even thinking these self destructing thoughts. But I can't help it...it wakes up with me in the morning and follows me to bed...but that doesn't matter now. I just want to say I'm sorry. I had written you 5 different times trying to articulate this but at the end I had erased it all. I don't know what I'm doing here, writing this...I don't know why I erased what I wrote. I know I'm giving too much of my self away on this pathetic exuse for human interaction. I know I will regret it but I just want to tell you I'm sorry.
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| Sometimes time can be the enemy:an indirect but direct letter to a friend |
[01 Oct 2003|11:33pm] |
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nostalgic |
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I just read this 5 month old livejournal post for the very first time from a dear friend of mine I haven't talked to in what seems like decades....reading it made me feel on top of the world. I miss our friendship, it was a superb friendship-four ninja stars and everything, I don't think I've ever told him...If you're reading this, I hope things are going well, despite being a slave to "the man" and the endless seeming priorties, I hope everything is above anything mediocre. Hope we can talk for hours like the good ol' days sometime again soon.
Always, Cat
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| erase erase erase erase lets begin |
[23 Sep 2003|11:22pm] |
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"fast canoe" - polvo |
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my eyes spell s-l-e-e-p-y but inside I'm wide awake as an owl, 24 hours in day is just not enough. There's something unbelievably romantic in cryptograms. I don't drink enough water. I lie about little things sometimes on a complete whim, like what I ate for dinner. I wish those damn peach mango jollibee pies weren't 99 cents. I'm glad those peach mango jollibee pies are 99 cents. Today I was in the mood for vibraphone echo #96 on the casio keyboard. I should have said you kicked total ass last Saturday, but it would have broken any composure. Who really gives a shit about composure? I do...its safe, I guess. And you...I'm really glad you called...I didn't show it but I felt happy talking to you. ...Hey, I know I can be a complete jerk sometimes, I really wish I wasn't. p.s. you talk too damn much. I think microsoft excel is sorta fun. I care if you think its lame...I wish I didn't. I geek out in secret...BIG TIME. I really "laugh out loud" when I type "lol". I always seem to start off songs I make up with "yesterday...". I wish I had the balls to let you hear me. pff...that would never happen in a million years. I've been eating WAAY too many egg salad sandwiches. I think lip biting is so hot. I can tell when people are doing it on purpose to try to look hot, then it doesn't look so hot anymore and just ends up looking pretty silly. I like the straight forward blunt action, it somehow makes me feel more relaxed. But only a rare breed of people can pull this off w/o being complete anus holes. I love the way she laughs. Oh god she hates me, I know she does, I should have said hi. If he only knew how fucking truly amazing he is. I hate it when they put sanitizers in public restroom soap dispensers. 1251. One more month before I'm one year wiser. I just read what I just wrote and I think I'm an idiot. ...yeah I'm an idiot.
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| i've lost count |
[09 Sep 2003|11:16pm] |
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"sparkly" -hope sandoval |
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She remembered what it felt like to be alive. In amidst the confusion, the mistakes, the moments that were difficult to swallow, the glances of unacceptance, she fucked them off into mid air and blew them onto the concrete where everything that had been taking place had now been crushed beneath her heels. Crushed like fucking paprika, crushed like your 13 year old heart watching him walk away, crushed like unreciprocated hi-fives, crushed like magma. damn, you can't get no crushed than fuckin magma. So its okay its alright its glorious all through the night its ok its alright she keeps on walking like diva hot shit walking like don't fuck with me walking in alley ways through unlit corners and vomit painted pavements because nothing matters not right now its okay its alright its glorious all through the night the park is closed the steps of the library are gated up but she keeps on walking all through the night they kiss they make up they go upstairs just so they can fuck he spits blows cash he turns around and makes a dash somewhere someone has just missed a cab while her chest expands like a fuckin balloon damn. like a fuckin balloon. because she remembered what it felt like to be alive and no one will ever take that away. not that night anyway. not ever ever ever ever
finis.
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