july 15th, 2010-
when she put her head down, telescopic plants burst through her ears.
at the end of the day I am only one woman. at the end of the day I cannot make anyone happy nor give any more practicality, discernment or enlightenment than I have. at the end of the day I believe in love above all else and agree to keep the moon safe in my young and fevered heart. at the end of the day my comfort resides in bold overzealous passion and exquisite wit. at the end of the day I willingly choose my decree, look to the sky and repeat, "I am only one woman, I am only one woman. I am woman."
I have sweat in my neck folds. I have sweat lingering on my groin(s?) I have sweat behind my legs. I have sweat consuming every hair follicle on my head. I have sweat streaming down my back. I am one sweaty bitch swimming in awful miserable humidity. I. Fucking. Miss. Air. Conditioning. my summer of sweaty hippie sin.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
w.w.j-ho.d
slide down your stairs to the heated streets; the sun has left us with slippery feet.
long since passed since I've graced the bionic cryptic slabs of technology with my verbose swagger.
decorah, decorah, decorah. life of a nonny in decorah. I have my own room. I have red and tan walls. my posters are up. my life is full of drunken nights of heated july nights and random men showing attention for the big hair. the black now has turned red on the side. vibrant. I guess. men really have been on my mind intensely lately. I think partly because of age, partly because of .. the sexiness. I feel as though lately I've exuded a certain attainability-sometimes good, sometimes bad. not in a promiscuous way (hopefully.) maybe it's loneliness. no no, it's for sure loneliness.
"the brown waves of fog toss up to me, twisted faces from the bottom of the street, and tear from a passer-by with muddy skirts. an aimless smile that hovers in the air and vanishes along the level of the roofs"
it's been good though, it really has. I have had one of the best weeks of my life. spin the bottle with ten-fifteen 20 something year-old hippies, loving, sweating, drinking, innocent, unadulterated?, fun. it was fun. I'm having a great time with leah and julia learning. It's been crazy, that's for damn sure. beyond crazy, wildly playful, although stressful in a lot of senses. just so much going on in my head daily. so so so much. I feel soon enough, before I even know it, I'll be settled in other senses.. so living loudly now to the fullest is very ok. (as long as I don't lose my mind completely in the midst of the action. which, I feel I would realize before it happened.) sigh. growing up. trying to keep it together. trying not to disappoint, all the while remembering the number one person and priority I should really care about is myself. the earth, environmental problems, family, responsibilities, yes.. they are important- but they're not nearly as important as my sensibility of emotion and sanity. not nearly. and I feel therein lies the problem with a lot of people I've met recently, or may have just realized recently. with that said, 23, almost 24 has been the age to realize a lot. a lot, a ridiculous amount, more than enough, too much. sigh.
enter bennifer.
fagre couches, anna's bed, hummus, stir-fry, family reunion. it's been a great weekend. a sober weekend. the family reunion went amazing. perfect. my predictions were far surpassed and I'm so proud of all of us. we've come together so close and in so many ways I never never thought would happen. it tears me up inside though to know it was over such awful circumstances. I wrote down yesterday "summer's enchanted, skin red exhausted with freckles and love. papa, I hope we made you proud." I was so exhausted yesterday evening. I broke down a few times and had to just let the tears flow. so stressed, so sad with feelings of longing. I miss him so much. it doesn't help I'm so fucking angry he left us without making things right. but that's how it goes. I really have no other option to let my anger surface, take hold of it, learn to deal with it, and let the time come when I won't feel it anymore. I don't want to write anymore. there's too much cable tv and fagre love going on. more rater.
long since passed since I've graced the bionic cryptic slabs of technology with my verbose swagger.
decorah, decorah, decorah. life of a nonny in decorah. I have my own room. I have red and tan walls. my posters are up. my life is full of drunken nights of heated july nights and random men showing attention for the big hair. the black now has turned red on the side. vibrant. I guess. men really have been on my mind intensely lately. I think partly because of age, partly because of .. the sexiness. I feel as though lately I've exuded a certain attainability-sometimes good, sometimes bad. not in a promiscuous way (hopefully.) maybe it's loneliness. no no, it's for sure loneliness.
"the brown waves of fog toss up to me, twisted faces from the bottom of the street, and tear from a passer-by with muddy skirts. an aimless smile that hovers in the air and vanishes along the level of the roofs"
it's been good though, it really has. I have had one of the best weeks of my life. spin the bottle with ten-fifteen 20 something year-old hippies, loving, sweating, drinking, innocent, unadulterated?, fun. it was fun. I'm having a great time with leah and julia learning. It's been crazy, that's for damn sure. beyond crazy, wildly playful, although stressful in a lot of senses. just so much going on in my head daily. so so so much. I feel soon enough, before I even know it, I'll be settled in other senses.. so living loudly now to the fullest is very ok. (as long as I don't lose my mind completely in the midst of the action. which, I feel I would realize before it happened.) sigh. growing up. trying to keep it together. trying not to disappoint, all the while remembering the number one person and priority I should really care about is myself. the earth, environmental problems, family, responsibilities, yes.. they are important- but they're not nearly as important as my sensibility of emotion and sanity. not nearly. and I feel therein lies the problem with a lot of people I've met recently, or may have just realized recently. with that said, 23, almost 24 has been the age to realize a lot. a lot, a ridiculous amount, more than enough, too much. sigh.
enter bennifer.
fagre couches, anna's bed, hummus, stir-fry, family reunion. it's been a great weekend. a sober weekend. the family reunion went amazing. perfect. my predictions were far surpassed and I'm so proud of all of us. we've come together so close and in so many ways I never never thought would happen. it tears me up inside though to know it was over such awful circumstances. I wrote down yesterday "summer's enchanted, skin red exhausted with freckles and love. papa, I hope we made you proud." I was so exhausted yesterday evening. I broke down a few times and had to just let the tears flow. so stressed, so sad with feelings of longing. I miss him so much. it doesn't help I'm so fucking angry he left us without making things right. but that's how it goes. I really have no other option to let my anger surface, take hold of it, learn to deal with it, and let the time come when I won't feel it anymore. I don't want to write anymore. there's too much cable tv and fagre love going on. more rater.
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