How lonely it must be to have different men sleep in your bed but never sleep with you. These men that you think of and talk to your friends about to the point of nausea. You grab his hand and pretend that he is yours but the whole time he thinks about getting free from your sweaty clutch. You pretend to care about him telling him that he should lay on your bed so he doesn't choke on his vomit. It takes your careful placement of words for him to mutter to you that its okay if you sleep next to him, since of course it is your bed. And after all your plans and female trickery there you are laying next to somebody that you hope will like you and nothing is happening, nothing more than him panicking in his sleep every hour.  In the time that he could be making love to you, he is thinking, vaguely trying to remember where the girl he actually came here to be with went. Most importantly if she went with him.


I was your silver lining

but now I'm gold.

How can I tell you?
How can I tell you?
How can I tell myself?


You live in terror of not being misunderstood

Oh I have so many things to say that are just too much to be written down. I’ve been having these nightmares every night from finding dead aborted babies in my kitchen cabinet to somebody breaking into my car. Can anybody guess what is the name for a fog bound child? I should go cherish the last times with my family downstairs before I move out, but they are watching lifetime and that channel is shit. I do not know why my life is so disheveled right now. I do not know why I still use the word funky. This is not my most elaborate piece of work, but nobody knows me. It’s just to read. Mindless Indulgence. I wish I was not greedy and jealous and temperamental. I have so many unfinished projects, I should get to them. I have no drive anymore. I miss school. I miss you. Cheap furniture anybody? Nevermind. I am going to downstairs. I wonder if you think of anybody else like that guy thought about his ex on the lifetime movie my family was watching. See, this is why lifetime is shit. It might as well be called the misery loves cheating, abductions, rape and murder channel. Okay, I’m going to go down now.

My bed is a boat

It drifts along as I dream.

I love you, you sway me and move me. I am like the ocean, and you the moon. Without you things will die, stiff and static. Little lives here and there. Just keep shining on me as I watch from below. I reflect you, I am vast and you, my light, will never have a night without you in me.

I can never be happy, I want to be an animal. I just want to be loyal and have kids and find food and die. They have it so easy, they do not even realize they live their life just to die at the end. It just happens for them.

from a tree is not as sticky as being “Sappy”.

When I was little I would never cry. I would just sit there and watch these sad, tear jerking movies and nothing will roll out of my eyes. I would feel it, it was heart wrenching watching this man torn by love ponder about suicide, whilst hot tears poured down his cheeks. Yet, nothing. My mom would say “you have a heart of stone!”. I have to admit it was a little bit harder then it is now. These days I find myself letting the faucet run for no reason. I see the dam dog in need of a home commercial and It is like I’m sitting in a lifeboat watching dead babies during the Titanic incident. I cry so much, and I hate it. I hate the feeling of water dripping down my nose. I rather have blood spilling out of my eyes. (I rarely use the word hate, but I really do hate this) So between that and my over producing sweat glands, I should be getting a serious case of Hyponatremia. The reason I am talking about crying is because I feel like doing that exact strenuous activity right at this moment. Thinking about You, not being able to talk to you. It’s been such a long time, but it is still an exaggeration compared to what “a long time” really signifies. I miss you, I need you and I want the comfort. I think of that song “Sea of love” (the Cat Power verison, though Phil Phillips is good too). Would it not be nice to tell people how much you love them? That would make things in life so much easier. The expression of love in words is not even possible to me. This abstract controlling feeling. It kills people! Look at Romeo & Juliet, they died. I love you. It is to the point where I think of you not being here, this tiny absence an I cry. You did nothing, I did nothing but I cried because you were safe. Because hearing your voice at the rise of dawn knowing you’re not strewn across some freeway made me happier then winning the lotto. I could have all the money in Mark Zuckerberg’s bank account but if you were not their to spend that shit crazy, there’s no point. While you are telling me that you could faint of lack of sleep I am silently letting those little wet bastards free because this time nobody is dying and ugly dogs don’t need homes. I am crying because happiness has never felt so close to me and yet so easy to leave. But mostly because I know you are here to give me more of that universal drug.


Flesh feels so nice.
Soft and warm.
And the drums of our heartbeats out of tune.
It makes me wonder if everybody experiences this.
The flesh doesn't stay warm forever.
And the drums sound brassy and dull, then they stop.
everybody experiences this.


the day i met the one that got away

i was walking down the street and everything seemed fine. the streetlamps were in place and the old gum that was scattered everywhere was plastered perfectly normal still on the ground. people didnt seem to care and not a little thing seemed out of the ordinary, it was simple walk through the day. i looked at everybodys faces that were walking next to me and they were either quite pensive or just creased with the rush of where they had to be. i turned the corner.
there in front of me was a mob, i could see it cleary and even though i couldnt hear it because of the ongoing cars passing by, i saw a rambuncious, randomly moving blob of people surrounding one little thing. they looked like little kids pushing too see one of their fellow classmates falling scab.
i moved in closer, and to my dismay i saw a curled up figure lying on the cold concrete floor, while the people yelled and shoved it. there was a young man screaming "it's your fault, all your fault!" and an elderly woman with a purple hat, "why, 30 years of my life? why!?". and it curled up there, taking all this beating and verball attacks. i had to lift it up, i had to help it.
i pushed the mob aside and plowed through to retrieve this poor little thing.
"run" i said, for the soon the crowd of people were about to chase us. so we ran and we ran and we ran. i was so out of breath before the people turned into ants in the horizon and we stopped at a unfamilar park bench.
and finally, i turned to get a good look at it.
and at that moment i knew what it was,
it was love.

"thank you" it whispered to me. but i couldnt look at it any longer, so i turned my head to not recieve its little voice to my ears. i saved this, and not once has it ever helped me, not once has it been fair.
so, without looking back,
i walked away.
hoping that one day it will remember my good deed.



sometimes wonder why bad things happen to good people.
like really really good hearted people.
i wish i could ask God if there is some reason for it?
like if he wants to teach us a lesson,
and if so what is it?

sure enough, there is someone out there wondering the exact same thing at this precise moment.


its the weirdest sensation being lost.
its even stranger when i dont even know im lost until its too late.
i dont really know how to describe it.
it was like my body was face to face with fear, getting punched in the face by it, then on the floor having reality kick me in the stomach spitting on me saying "you dont know where the fuck you are" and once on the floor my own mind turns on me and robs me of all hope that i have until i am in the parking space of a shopping center on 2nd street 6300 N, long beach,CA. an hour and something from home.



is rikki nikeas johnsons day of birth
so what we are going to do
i am going to bring her pumpkin pie and balloons
and she wants porn cigarettes lotto tickets and strippers (since shes 18 but i dont think that will happen)
but we will get her balloons!
and then after the acting class we will go get our ears pierced
go into the cult place don yoga with sofia me eb kenny and her
all of us wearing yellow or red
and come in singing 'BRIGH AND SHINYY"
to have CULT WAR!
after that its all up to fate

booga wooga

i need to clean out my car
i love my car his name is bowie
hes a transvestite
from transexual transelvania
theres nothing that i really want to talk about
i just want to write
i love driving to school in the mornings
and esp at night
but i need to get down to buisneesss
and im going to get my credits down
to transfer out
by next semester
i think?
winter session
and then im hopefully out to a private
somewhere in la?
or i could throw everything out the window and just go to live in europe
i have to sing 'someone like you' from jeykll and hyde today
dkfaj;ljd the last 16 bars and its killing me
now im going to go to target
and then star bucks
with the ebnator

i am going to see parade! this weekend.