i love summer

that feel, languid heat, and suntan-lotion-sweat-chlorine smell of boys pressed up against you, and the fresh-cold way the blue washes over you, and the hot-cool breeze of nights that don't end, and margarita-lips sore from kissing.

yesterday

yesterday i thought about how it felt to lie on the ground and soak up the rain as though i'd done it before. and then i might have, in another time, on another day. and i thought about Cornwall, and how i love the smell of lavender there, and how i always had my best dreams there. the rocks there feel old and full of stories, and so i like to hold them, and touch them, and never make a sound.
i thought about how i could be walking, on my way to my gray flat in some dark corner of Montmarte, and that i'll open my door and feel the breeze from the silt-gray skies whisper against my skin, and i'll feel new, and fresh. aroused somehow. the Seine is
i thought about the beginning, before Genesis, and how the fruit must taste, how the juice -thick- slips down my chin. and i taste it on my lips for generations afterwards, regretting nothing.
and i thought of all this, all of it, as though i'd been there, as though i'd lived it all along.

when my head spins round...

so much has been spinning that i can't really count it all here. but i can mark it in spreads.
i think it's been a while since i really phoned about it, and it kind of builds. so i've been letting things out of my head more lately, and it's been helpful (i found out that i talk so much more when i don't feel....when i don't feel afraid (?)). anyway, the last week has been kind of hazy, and i'm in a shell now, so i haven't been much more than clammy, if you know what i mean. and i guess it's because of the weather or because of the rain or because of the clouds, and really, they aren't all the same thing (each would insist that they are each their own part of sky-natural occurance - thing), and so it's all affected me. and i need to write more. i need to do more. i need to get back whatever it is that i feel i don't carry with me now. it's something. and it has so much to do with my distraction and that's just so far from who i am. i mean, since when did my distraction become so much? since when did it matter so much how it comes off, how it's presented, how pretty and shiny and fucking perfect it needs to be? it's always a disappointment these days, and i can't stop it. in a way, i don't know what i'm trying to change, and in a way i do, and then it all gets jumbled into little blurby bits and i'm stuck here unhappy with my damn distraction. me and me and me and all of us displeased at us. what a pickle. i mean, i kind of feel that i should be just fine with what it is and that's it, but then i just kind of say, "how can you be happy with just this? you need so much more.." and so i'm just like, "well what do i need? do i need to change my hair or my clothes or what part of my body, exactly, needs to be changed? and in what way?" and then i'm just like, "well, why not start with everything? change it all. make it all better. in fact, make it all good first, then we'll work on better." so then i'm just kind of like, "fuck you", and then i'm in this space again. it's just annoying. i want to go back to that space where i just feel like it's all great and i have absolutely nothing to worry about on that front. but then i wonder if i was just kidding myself the whole time, you know? what if it was never good? or at least as good as i thought? and anyway, since when did this become so important? i mean, that's why it's my distraction, because it distracts from all the other stuff, but isn't that reality, what we perceive?
now i'm rambling when all i meant to do was move away from myself for a minute so that i could loosen. i guess i'm just waiting to be okay with it. and i don't know why it's bad now, but i can't help but feel that it isn't enough. does that make sense? i'm sure it does, in some way.
typical of me.

but hey, not everything is bad with me. i'm actually doing fine. i can't really complain about much in my life. i mean, i have a great relationship, my career is promising, i have a few good friends, blah blah blah.....i mean, it's good. so, i'm not like, complaining really. or maybe i kind of am, but mostly i'm pretty happy.
i've rambled enough, and this is stupid.

What the Fuck!?!?

Complaint Cites Doctor's Anti-Gay "Treatment" - PlanetOut Network

Leaders Decry Gay Bar Shooting in Mass. - PlanetOut Network

Protests Over Mohammed Drawings Intensifies - AP

"it's funny.........Ashlee really got me thinking....you know, like about all the pieces and stuff.."

sometimes i get to thinking about all the parts that make me the the thing i am. it's a complicated piece of machinery - irregular cogs and erratic clockwork. what it is is just what anyone sees - requests and dictates pressed onto me, and i come away misshapen, like waxy confusion.

it's my distraction. porcelain and blood. there seems no inbetween with me, and therein lies the fragility. when the shell is broken, it bleeds. there is nothing more - no buffer, and an apparent absence of layering. i'm not so cake-faceted afterall.

or maybe i have doubted for much too long.

"feels like i can finally rest my head on something real - i like the way that feels - it's as if you know me better than i ever knew myself - i love how you can tell - all the pieces pieces pieces of me"

Hello Meridian.

it's never a shock. only sometimes the stay is for so long, that the return can be surprising. only, not all-together. i always know, and feel it, somehow.
i can't remember when it was new. i can't remember how long ago i didn't know the name.
i conjure up spirits when i'm looking the other way.
full force.

on the Western Front

Check it!! it's where i'm from!!

i like "Cupcake" - you'd be the baddest bitch out there, but your name would be "Cupcake"

so Lisa has decided she's gonna be a Roller Girl, which i think is a really good idea. you get to bash other chicks and throw em around and skate and like...........do other stuff. sounds fun.

her name should be Cupcake. then as she takes some chick down on the roller-rink, she could yell, "eat it, bitch!"


yeah. that's hot.