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public post [21 Dec 2015|06:59pm]

i was once camusletters , virgas ,alcoholsugar ,lungslocked and a few others..

warsaw [14 Apr 2009|05:08pm]
Thank you for the words about my piece. It was a test for me, to see if I could write creativly.

I have determined I can.

What I posted ealier was such a rough copy, such a dry draft that I'm suprised you had such a response to it.

I want to expand upon it, but I don't know where this is headed? Through Europe? Which would be even harder seeing as that is NOWHERE I've ever been. Althogh I did live in New Orleans which is the closest Americans will get to Europe without leaving the country.

I would love suggestions on this part. I have no idea where to take it from here. Should Vivien let Delfino back in to her life? Seven's life?

And it's such a rough draft that I need to explain the vision that is my house, but not now. I need to go home now, I'm exhausted and my mind is awhirl wih all of that stuff.
thank you, ladies for reading ti.

ugh, so many typos!
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even when it's cold outside around here [10 Apr 2009|03:05pm]
[ mood | annoyed ]

I got stood up. Fucking Delfino, I'm so fucking done with that person. I'm dressed to kill and everything because I thought I wanted some exboyfriend affection and kisses and for him to run his hand down that slit in my shirt that shows the rounded edges of my tits, but now I'm just pissed and hot and sweaty and NO ONE FUCKING STANDS ME UP. Ever. He will have to pay for this. And it will be expensive.

Jessica sent me some photos she took on her camera phone the night of my birthday dinner with my mother. It was so lovely and wonderful and hopefully I can post them in a minute. Nothing new. Reading alot. Sent off two letters to SM after 5 fucking re-writes.

The power just went out in the library. That is insane. But yet my computer still functions..

I don't know. AlexOdin should be here in a moment and I'm going to post the photos in a minute & re-edit this entry so it's not so fucking stupid.

& I hung out with Brandy and that was fucking fantastic.

Here, the photos.

20 years oldCollapse )


[08 Apr 2009|05:25pm]
something disturbing

uhm. oh my god....amanda palmer wrote a very disturbing blog about it as well. i resent the represtentation of my pussy having a huge bush just because i'm black, same with the tiny garden asian bitch.

i'm disgusted.

but something better.

although it reminds me of something nate would be into/would listen to/the kind of music he would play.


your good, and bad, weather. [08 Apr 2009|04:35pm]
[ mood | tied ]

I am 20 years old now, as of last saturday. 20 feels like the letter S and poetry. Poetry, poetry. 18-19 was the letter D, and I'm so fucking DONE with the letter D in my life and it kind of feels like Delfino is done too, and Danzig has been retired to Odin or his real moniker, Alexander. Jasmine, selfish 20 year old girl child. The 20th year I've been alive. Last night I was a teenager, this morning I'm a young adult. A new journal starts at every milestone, although I usually plow through 3 a year. God, 20! Two decades! No longer in that teen-age. It feels new, this filmy, silky, shady TWENTY!!! I just don't know what to think. I think about washing my hads five times a day, grapefruit juice where you add your own sugar. A budding author who can't spell properly all the time. The irony of syntax...stolen tokidoki barrettes in my hair, twenty years old! A youthful virginity has been taken, I can no longer go back. In 10-15 years will I view my barren womb with sadness, wereas now I fully and utterly love my maiden delta, my not girl not woman (but more woman than girl) yoni. My divine monosyllable. My all seeing eye that weeps most when it is the most pleased. My quim, muff, pussy, cunt, cake, vag, poon, tail, box, slit, gash, hole, cock alley. Whatever. I am alive, my delta yearns, my man coos in my ear. I am sore and tired at 20 years old. Don't believe me? You will....

from the paperjournal of jasmine, dated 4-4-2009

I woke my lover up at 530 this morning, slamming my hips down on his wet dream stiff cock. He slept through the first round of gyrations, and then after a few circles he awoke, startled but happy, and fucked me until we both came together, riding a wave of stiff cocks and tight wet pussies.  He hurt me and we fell asleep again. I dreamnt of my NOLA roommate kerry leigh and midwife Jude and waiting tables and fucking girls and keeping Delfino from crying and all this other bizarre shit. I woke up feeling jilted. Everyone seemed angry at me in the dream world. It felt so bizarre. I haven't adjusted to 20 yet. On the morning of my birthday I woke up to a letter from Stacey Marie & a phone call from Tony. Stacey's letter upset me greatly, and I spent the early morning somewhere between hella depressed and elated to have my first happy birthday from Tony Crosseyes. My past post was kind of the behavior that SM was talking about in her letter. I've never gotten such a short letter from her, nor one so full of despair and anger and sadness. My hands are tied and it enrages me that I can't get through to my ladies about some things like this, but I know that I can't make anyone see anything that they don't want to.

I don't know. I need a new book. I need something. My shoelaces are too tight, my bandana around my waist is too tight. Atleast I have a new song I like. A nd just discovered, this new song (The Knux - Bang Bang) are from New Orleans, and I am the women they describe (i'm from a place where all the women are beautiful, creole with tons of ass...)

New Orleans...<3

sexyslippingsnappingshadysneakin fucking twenty years old....

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don't be a hard rock when you really are a gem baby girl.. [25 Mar 2009|08:51pm]
[ mood | annoyed ]

More proof that Aries have some of the hottest women ever under their stars...

I'm thinking about psychoanalysts, fear of flying, dark halls and larks. Why do those ads pop up on myspace that say, "Overweight at 19?" or "Only 19, do you want to know when you are going to DIE!?" This culture has such an unhealthy relationship with all of the stages of life of anything. Birth is a "woman's" thing, it's "gross", men don't want to be in the delivery room (Mamas shouldn't be in a delivery room either, imo), men are so disconnected from the process of creating a life, even though they helped, it seems off limits to them and it's bizarre, when did this thinking start? My mom says the Native Americans are the ones that have the life thing down. Women are given seperate lodges slightly away from the rest of the tribe during their "moon times", where they can go and be with other women who are going through the same thing and just given space and time to enjoy their blood...Men are intimately involved with their children while they are in the womb, their ideas of marriage are so much more respectful and equal, elders are treated with respect and listened to, as are children, everyone has something to contribute and there is wisdom in everyone at every stage of life. Women are respected immensly and if a tribal council met with other tribes and they didn't have a woman on their council, that tribe would not be trusted. Menopause isn't discussed at all, only in whispers or complaints about hot flashes, the solutions thrown at women are hormone replacement therapy and to shut up about it, oh, are your PMDD symptoms so severe they are interrupting your life? Okay, here's the cure, a pill with tylenol, a diuretic, and some caffeine, nevermind that this is natural, this is what women DO and have done for centuries, stop trying to tell me everything I feel is wrong and can be "fixed" and altered and needs to be. Can you believe, that up until the mid to late 80s, men were trying to convince women that menstural cramps didn't EXIST, and that all the things they felt during menstruation were PSYCHOLOGICAL??? How could you look a woman straight in the eye and tell her that she was imagining all of that pain, so shut up and get on with it, it's all in your head? And men wonder why women hate men.. Like Lauren hill says, you know, "That Thing." And how have we let men manipulate, warp, destroy everything that is TRUE about women and distort it and make "femme" the ultimate ideal, and "femme" of course being something so diluted and soft and SAFE, something that they don't have to fear or understand or have any mystery. The Feminine Mystique, something so stupid and fake and flat like an opened soda, so men can control it and take away our power. Anything that smacks of Women's Lib is labeled neurosis or you are a feminazi and god, it's all okay and accepted and when I don't like it when you make lewd comments to me on the street and try to hassel me, I must be a bitch because I have some self respect.
Our culture is so sick. Women are more than 50% of the population. I laugh when I think about Chinese men. Men are so highly valued in China that of course, families killed off all their girl fetuses or left them to die of exposure or shipped them off to USA adoption agencies. In about 5-10 years, people are going to wake up and realize that there is a whole generation of men with literally NO WOMEN. What are you going to do then? Import Russian Mail Order prostitutes?

My mom is telling me to go.

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aries feminist woman author [18 Mar 2009|12:45pm]
[ mood | new favourite author ]

Erica Jong = new obsession.

Read her, and read her quickly. I suggest these:

i'm on campus and i really want to see delfino but don't want to go looking for him.


bat for lashes [16 Mar 2009|10:21pm]
[ mood | insane ]

I'm feeling so strange, I don't know what to do with everything. I'm just so overwhelmed at every thing I'm thinking feeling amazing I don't know my mind is spinning and if I was on my bike right now I would fly right into moving traffic and not even think twice.

Read (1) post

[13 Mar 2009|01:46pm]
[ mood | ill ]

I don't know what to say, what to think. My mom collapsed on me today. She is tired. She is old and making herself older with the things she takes on. She screams, why can't you be honest with me? I am your mother, I love you. And I shout back, for that reason I cannot tell you everything.

I read

the head Sublime, the heart Pathos, the genitals Beauty, the hands & feet Proportion. As the air to a bird or the sea to a fish, so is contempt to the contemptible.
The crow wish'd everything was black, the owl that every thing was so white.
Exuberance is beauty.
If the lion was advised by the fox, he would be cunning.
Improvement makes straight roads; but the crooked roads without Improvement are the roads of Genius.
Sooner murder an infant in its cradle than nurse unacted desires.
Where man is not, nature is barren.
Truth can never be told so as to be understood, and not be believ'd. Enough! or Too Much.

-William Blake, Marriage of Heaven & Hell, plate 10.

I lie in a fever. "when are we going home" by sm's little band plays, loudly, as loud as those little songs can get.

I re-read old journals of mine. I wish I had alcoholsugar to read, but those times are best lost to the dust of time.

I am sick.

& i still reach for him in the dark of night, missing the impression that he makes..

vibrant with the certainty of my second grade science text, i scream, in bold faced vocabulary words, I WANT!


you'd rather be a bitch than an ordinary broken heart [09 Mar 2009|09:01pm]
[ mood | wanting a cigarette ]

I have a new bright layout. Also new default of the hottest bitch alive. My mom is horrified at the fact that I dumpster dive. I kind of resent it. She finds it depressing, like I'm so desperate that I dive. No, it's because I enjoy it. I'm trying to think of this long, philosophical ramble I thought of while I was puking this morning in my bathroom. Something about our generation. Our newness. Our rapid and painfully obvious movement through out the political, social, and cultural landscape. Our power. Our shining light. It was so beautiful and graceful in my head and now I can't even pull out the defining nugget. I'm reading Barack Obama's book. And another A.S. Byatt book. Both are great and entertaining. I don't know what else to say. I'm off kilter, of course. I'm reading alot. Wanting to smoke alot. I want to get stoned again with my little sister. I want to write.

Oh yes.

My third grade teacher found me on facebook. I went to a small private school. I mean very small. the largest class they've ever had was 13 people, and that's with two grades combined. She was friends with everyone in town, and she had students come over and stay the night at her house on the river all the time. People gasp and freak out when I tell them things like this, but I wasn't raised in a city, a town, even a village, it was a fucking encampment. A commune. There was no rape, murder, robberies. The police beat said stuff like : "horse loose from vaughn farm. loud music at skatepark. car alarm on basin street." Because everyone knew everyone. The midwife who delievered me helped almost 75% of my friends come into the world. And the other 25% were births she wasn't certified for yet. My mom was never worried about where I was. Someone who knew our (very prominent and well known) family would call as they saw me walk by the window and say something like:
"Hey Moonbeam baby, I saw one of your little moon girls walking by the river with the midwife's daughter. yeah yeah. she's headed towards mainstreet, they were talking about drama class. you want me to call out to her? okay, i'll have your sister stop her on main street and give her the message about dinner. she's gettin' so big, ain't she? alright moonmama, talk to you later. mmmbye." The elders all watched us grow up, and I know all of us, scattered around right now, will go back to E.S. to have our kids and then watch them grow up, and then us become the Elders, the one town midwife, etc etc. It's insane to think about how different I grew up from everyone else. I didn't own a tv until I was 12, and that's just because it came with the hotelroom. My best friends were in the room when I was born. People said hello to me on the street because I knew them.
I kind of miss that kind of community. But then, I don't, because everyone knows who everyone else is fucking. But I miss my friends from there. I miss the safety.

I want to raise my child in this. But as soon as they hit 12, they have to move to a city. You stay a teenager there and you go crazy, because there is nothing to do but smoke mad homegrown and drink moonshine and tip cows. No fun.

I don't know. I hate updating twice in two days but I had to get this out. I hadn't heard anything about my old school teacher since she got pregnant and her ex husband beat her up. He was quickly exiled from the community. He moved away after the rumor got out that's what happened to her. The community has great power when it comes to things like that. It also has made pot as close to legal as possible. The Mayor was once a Hell's Angel and sold pot out of his basement. Here is my hometown's wiki, if you want to look at it.


The Dresden Dolls are telling me to take a cigarette break.

I never say no to Amanda Palmer.


so now we're not talking, except we have tickets to see blur in october and i think we're still goin [27 Feb 2009|05:17pm]
I don't know if you've heard, but they have arrested someone in connection to the Chandra Levy murder in the 90s, which is what that song "Cryin', Tryin', Lyin'" by Bratmobile is about. I really hope that this is the person who has done this, except I know that it was really the House Representative who she was sleeping with or whatever, I mean this is a 10 year old mystery that enraged feminists across the world.

Last night Cassandra came over and we talked. My mother cried when she left, she said it was so good to hear us laughing again. We talked about everything. We took a silly photo and I can't wait to see how it turns out. I've missed her terribly and it was awful being so angry for so long. So now that it's behind us, I can't wait to see where our friendship moves foward to. It's really relieving to have the weight of bad emotions off my shoulders. We read some things in Sextrology which she found silly and delightful. "Atleast my turn ons are a little bit naughtier than James'." Although, I believe Scorpio men hold the title for the worst turn ons...torture? dungeons!? Insanity. I also just discovered that one of my childhood hometown friends is now living in Denver and going to Johnson and Wales. So hopefully we can hook up and catch up, she has the most Southern name I've ever heard. Cora Leigh. Damn right. Anyway. Tonight is our first N.A. meeting which could be terrible or awesome, depending. Our sponsors name is GiGi. I'm not even joking. Does anyone Twitter? Is it even worth my time? It seems ridiculous, but I might get one if it's worth it. Anyway, I don't have much time here left and I did want to swing by Cass' and see if she was at work and snag some free java. So I'm out, I found a list of Amanda Palmer's favourite books, and seeing as I'm a whore for Amanda Palmer, I'm going to check out a couple of them, and dive into A.S. Byatt a little more, because I totally adored Possesion, it became one of my top 10 books, which is a hard list to break into.

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[26 Feb 2009|02:15pm]
I got a ridiculously amazing modeling offer. Lets see if it checks out. Wish me luck! Also, I was interviewed and had my picture taken by a guy from USA Today. So....be on the look out for my beauuutiful face in the papers!

Off to get that sarah kane book.

au revoir!

i'm trying to build a wall [26 Feb 2009|11:31am]
Saw Delfino. Things are strange now, but I got my sticker and that's what I really needed. We stood akwardly and he tried to hug me again and I bolted. I'm supposed to be meeting Odin but I'm here alone and my feet hurt and my jacket isn't warm enough and I just want to go home. Tony + Aza are going to Alberqurque, which will be fun for them. My journal, my black book of death is almost finished, and it's really exciting. Finally a new start, something to begin again with. I need a new book. I'm reading Soon I shall be Invincible which Thomas gave to my little sister because my little sister is so afraid of death that she wants to be a cyborg...I don't know. My feet hurt and I'm going barefoot the rest of the day. Blah. And my eye is like, mad at me for something because it keeps like sealing shut with grossness when I wake up in the morning.

Blah I'm out.

grrrl gang love [23 Feb 2009|06:13pm]
[ mood | crazy ]

Ahh, what it feels like for a girl. Bullet (Dena), E (Erica), Legs/Ruin (Jasmine) & Bones (Cassandra). This was one of those nights that you don't ever forget, you know? We all got drunk at Bullet's house and smoked some dope and danced to Le Tigre and Bullet & I staid behind as Bones & E went downtown and we told secrets to each other and rubbed noses and innocent girl kisses. Amazing, the energy, love, passion and fury we had between each other. True girl gang, that was. We are all so far from each other now, in life, in love, in geography. But those few months we were together, we were UNSTOPABLE. Beat up rapists, tagged shit, jumped in puddles, kissed with our eyes closed and fingers intertwined. No one can ever touch what we had, and the few that witnessed it, well...it was amazing, was it not? E & I holding hands and running down Broadway screaming "Rebel Girl" by Bikini Kill, Bones & I driving in her little car screaming "Mystery Girl" by the YYYs and swearing always that boys would be our toys and nothing else, swearing on our beauty marks for it. E&I stealing oranges from Wild Oats and trying to put up my Mohawk and getting pomade on our skirts and taking such drunk pictures we aren't even in half of them. Bullet the rockstar, bouncing into school looking like fucking Kathleen Hanna and wearing a fucking cape and shaking her ass like no one's buisness and I just staring wide eyed, this creature is amazing and she's my friend. Ah. Those are the days I shall never forget.

I miss you terribly, girls. Maybe someday we'll met again and get drunk and kiss and listen to Le Tigre and it will be like not a single day has passed.
Love always,
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[13 Feb 2009|04:04pm]
I'm still ecrushing you, Otomik!

even if you are a white republican guy

you make me wet hahaha.
Read (2) post

cuz baby, cool kids, they belong together [10 Feb 2009|12:06pm]
Sunday, the boy & I went to Little Brother Aza's FIRST EVER SHOW with his new band that includes Tony Two Tone on drums and Corie on bass, who is one funky motherfucker who can slap a bass like it was his bitch. For someone so young, I've never seen so much fucking talent. Seriously, Corie is a fucking prodigy. Les Claypool, look out, because Corie is going to steal your bass title. It was at Wax Trax and Aza had booked all the bands and got all the fliers out and I was so proud of him. As we stood in the crowd and grooved along to the little folkpunk band that played before Aza & crew, I almost started crying. It has been years since I've been to a DIY show, and I felt so relieved and happy and a part of something again, I held boytoy's hand and The Plastic Cup band played so many sing-a-long songs and everyone shouted and clapped their hands and several old friends who I hadn't seen in years were there and hugs all around and bumming cigarettes and joltman's insane suggestion to Tony that when Kristen&T get a house that they should put a giant portrait of Joltman on the celing of their bedroom so they can stare at him while they have sex, just because he "loves them that much." Plastic Cup played "The Alabama Song" where you just celebrate where everyone is from, shouting out states and cities where you've loved & lost, and he asked for suggestions. "Anyone from like, Pennsylvania? That would be perfect.." So I shouted out 'Louisiana'! And he sang it to me, along with the whole crowd and I was so happy I just laughed and clapped my hands in pure amusement. A girl was there who Odin had fucked once in an alley after a GBH show, and she approached him and asked where she knew him from, and he felt it would have been terrible to say..."Well, we've only met once and I got you with your pants down behind the Ogden." So he didn't say anything but said he recognized her too. After Tony&Aza&Corie played (they don't have a band name yet) they were all sweaty and glowing and kept asking how they did. Odin and I just kept telling them they were great, which they were. Aza came home with us and spent the night, sprawled out on our bed, snoring loudly and stinking up the sheets with his crust punk stink, which is kind of comforting. Things are kind of falling apart at the house, and I'm planning to stay with my mother for the rest of the week, which means I'll be updating alot with writing and stuff like that.

Brandy sent me a letter from London, and I nearly cried with happiness reading it. It was a single sheet of paper and the reply I wrote back was over 5 pages back and front.

It will be revised, again, now that i've read her most recent entry. Anyway. I'm leaving.

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lets dance under the moon and sing the blues [04 Feb 2009|02:16pm]
No word from the photographer. I'm okay with it working out, or with it not working out. More things will come my way, I'm sure. Two men in a red car mildly stalked us on the way to the library. They leaned out of the car and towards me, as if to holler, you know, to try to get me into their car. They didn't really see Odin till they got close, and then they swerved away, only to pull down the street and wait for us to keep walking. They looked again and drove away. I was so angry. They were salivating looking at me, but turned in fear when they realized Odin wasn't a girl, but yet they had to come back again for more. I was infuriated. Men think they have a right to me.

My writing is going so well, I really have nothing to say here. I'm responding to a veggieboards.com post about racism, so I'm distracted. Hopefully I'll have more to say later. But not right now.

Stay stars, lovelieesss.


i made the fatal mistake of letting her drink again [02 Feb 2009|10:06pm]
fill the shotglass and she's had too many...cuz baby girl's a queen

I don't know what to say. So much has been going on and it's so crazy. My little sister ODed on cough syrup so I'm here tonight staying with her. The amount of anxiety I have about sleeping alone is insane, so I'm not going to sleep alone, I'm going to lay down with my little Pisces sister and sleep next to her. My pregnancy test was negative. I still haven't bled, and the second full moon is approaching quickly. I have my paperjournal here, and I wanted to start 'working', making scans to show you all, but nothing is happening. I just stare at all my words and can't seem to copy any of it. It seems like it would be an act of treason, to post my paperjournal words here. My other little sister is staying the night here as well, and I have a feeling we will all stay up all night just talking, reading, smoking cigarettes. Everyone has missions for tomorrow, except for me, who's mission is to keep trying to find work. I've had interviews, nothing pans out. A photographer is offering me 1K to do artistic nudes. Shit, what we could do with a K?! I don't know. I haven't made any serious commitments to anything, but I'm kind of on the desperate end, right now.

From my paperjournal.

That tape isn't going anywhere. I don't know what else to add to it. The lead ins and outs work well. GG Allin & Handsome Boy & all that.I want sex, but my lover is not relenting. Maybe he is, nevermind. Obama is coming. Tuesday he shall be my president and the tears come to my eyes when I think, 'I trust you.' I have no other choice. I cry reading all the papers about him. History, moments, My generation braces it's self for a tidal wave. I'm praying for rain, I'm praying for tidal waves. I want lover & I to walk off and look for America. We could. Once the weather warms. I want to travel from city to city, smoke cigarettes, read magazines, look at the scenery, take photographs. I tape photographs of women into my journal, stunningly gorgeous model women. White women. Women who look nothing like me. In their poses I look for my emotions, myself. I read PURPLEPROSE, globetrotting hipster trash, writers, bohemia, artists. People I want to be. People I want my friends to be. How do I get there? Work, and work of genius. I want to swing my hips, cry in telephone booths in Paris, I want to sneak across the border into Spain. I want to carry pendants of Saints on my neck, I want to change the world. I'm filled with it all. I will. I will work fucking hard. I want the world and I want it fucking now. When someone asks for my inspiration, what shall I tell them? Amanda Palmer, Anais Nin, mixtapes from old lovers, the moon, dreams, heroin, illness, dirty buisness, Sylvia Plath, Gang of Four, drinking, smoking, pills, letters, pictures, art, failure, the stars, sleep, saints, lust, street scenes, scoring, New Orleans, girl rock, modern languages, sexy songs, public transportation, inky pens, heavy bass, horoscopes, bicycle parties, whiskey kisses, running away, traveling long distances, getting lost, marital disputes, infidelity, sex, evil, self discovery, books, bathing rituals & my favourite clothes..

I don't want children to weigh me down. Children always weigh women down in ways they never will for men. I don't want them. I want to travel the world and do what I want without worrying about someone else's welfare. I am so selfish. Selfish selfish bitch.
I say this as my lover kisses my neck everywhere, my favourite place, my erotic feelings grow and he growls he wants to make me a mother and I laugh because never never, the kisses on my neck drive me crazy and I have to put this down, good night good night....


I cannot sleep without my lover and I'm weak in the knees thinking about the kisses and growls he left on my neck.
My mother says she will drive me back to the house if I can't handle it.

Am I that chicken?

I suppose.

st. catherine of alexandria, patron saint of girls, pray for me! [28 Jan 2009|03:48pm]
[ mood | indescribable ]

If you picked up today's newspaper, you know that Dilbert is unemployed. I am so royally fucked. If Dilbert can't get hired, how the fuck do I have a chance? This morning has started out insane. Only 3 aries stars today, but that's okay. I had 5 yesterday. I want to hang out with Tony - find some relief in an old friend. He is an old man in my mind, but also a child - always discovering new things and stumbling through all the beautiful mistakes and bad ideas. Tony, tell me all is good. The strongest magnet in the known universe is in the Sagittarius constellation. I wonder if that means anything? I read a couple entries from my paper journal out loud to Odin, and he was disturbed. This paperjournal I'm working on now might be my greatest achievement. I am stunned, absolutely stunned by what I read in it. I am inspired by it, and ache to write, to write and write and write. I want nothing more than to write all day long. I haven't responded to Cassandra's comment about my tape. I don't want anything. We'll never have the same friendship, and I'm honestly not ready to even try anything with her. Wesley asked last night if we could "break it out and hang out with Milk" and I felt kind of sad but just shook my head and said no. I've said what I had to say and am left with nothing but my empty hands. She's a mother. I'm a transient, getting ready to hop trains and vanish into thin air. Our lives are so different, our friendship couldn't take the strain of such severe change. She compared what she did to what we did with Thomas and his addiction. The difference was, we told Thomas the next day that we told his parents. Cassandra never told us. Her feelings as a mother outweighed her feelings as a friend. I don't need a second mother. In turn, I've lost a friend. This, happens. Sadly. I still love her, and miss her, but the Cassandra i'm loving and missing isn't the same one that is here now. My sister in law is paying me to do her Astronomy class & History class, and help her with her English class. I am overjoyed. I love all of those subjects and am quite good at them all, if I say so myself.
I am excited to go to my mothers and do nothing but take baths and write and write and write and write and do Astronomy work and use Jess' student pass to the planetarium and stare at the stars!

Spinelli is going to be here for my birthday. We have a goal to work for. Odin says, "She's not leaving." I laugh. I wrote a poem about her & this whole thing.

a girl coloured red
She splashes - small and marked, round and full. Her voice is small, but betrays the size of her ♥. She steals into me, speakin of the velvet between my legs and the bruise kisses I promised for her chest. My baby girl, always hiding secrets along with mine. "Lets be women of the night! I'll strip for you bb, I want us to be safe, and comfortable, I'll do anything for you and I.." Scorpio began to fall for her. Her delicatness and tinyness turned on the violent man inside him. Her pale skin marked with sin awakened something in him I cannot touch. My girl, coloured red, I cannot wait for you. I cannot wait to mix your red, my scorpio's purple and my gray to blot out the world.

it's a terrible poem but i had been drinking. SM has posts of good things. I really hope things are well with her & hunter without a rifle. I hate it when bad things happen to good aries women. Also, thomas just added me to his journal.

i wonder where this shall lead....

Odin is hovering so I'm gonna go. Back to the old house and smoke some and write some more because that's all I ever want to do right now. & pray to st. catherine of alexandria that i'm doing something right, oh patron saint of girls, pray for me, and for the girls that cannot pray for themselves.

no one writes me back when i send letters anymore. this is a great tragedy, of epic proportions.

♥ and stay stars.

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it was just one of those things! [23 Jan 2009|01:59pm]
I read Brandy's entries and I'm inspired! My heart is beating so quickly, my fingers cannot keep up with my racing thoughts. I imagine her, drunk and running with her purse to the London tube, the city lights and it all sounds like "Sinnerman" by Nina Simone (Felix da Housecat Remix, of course) and she's avoiding the American boys and oh how I wish I could grab her hand and say, yes, lets go to the pub and miss the last tube and chase those pretty London boys (&girls!) and dance all night and forget your pretentious art history teacher, lets really get an art education, let's go see it all, lets sneak away to Paris for the weekend, let's get lost and I'll be the exotic black girl so we get all the best tables. How I wish I was there, Brandy! My mind swirls into dream like fever states and how I wish I could write how I feel, instead of stupid similies and over used metaphors. My spelling is out the window but I don't care. My signed ticket from The Dresden Dolls sits next to me, my little sister is asleep in the next room, my lover at work down the street. Courtney Love sings 'Violet' to me and the stars look like little fish that dance infront of my eyes like I've been hit with a lead pipe. I dream, I dream yes. I wish, I wish yes. I can almost smell it, Brandy. My black cat, my familiar, my witch associate sits and purrs on my lap, 'I'm the one with no soul, one above and one below!' I feel my girlishness ooze out my pores, staining my tokidoki shirt with sweat. I'm happy! I'm excited! Tonight I go see Revolutionary Road with my husband and maybe Tony&Kris. Listening to Dr.Octagon&Princess Superstar and thinking of when I recorded it on to tape in Tigerbeat's house and the sex and the way he held me down as this music played! Male salt and the smell of the river wafting in through his open windows. Oh, the river! The lights of the steamers and boats as they passed by on Tchopitulas, I listen to the remixes Delfino sent me and I'm drifting to the moon on gossamer wings, no one can touch me or bring me down now, I'm to far gone, I'm alive, alone, flying on gossamer wings and brandy, I'll see you in Paris for the weekend, baby, and then off to Rome, to Milan, to anywhere our minds dare to take us!
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