in the middle of the night when i'm in this dream, it's like a million little stars spelling out your name

if i was going to write the story of us i wouldn't leave one part of you out.

you.

you're like, perfect.

i met you at the end of the hallway on the 19th floor.  

you ate a whole pack of tums on our first date.  

i remember every second of the first night i spent at your place.  now our place.  

always together, you and i

remember that time we were in west elm.....waiting in line to use the bathroom i remember wondering what was taking you so long.  i love you- you wrote, on piece of toilet paper, and left in floating.....well, you know....

i still have the map that you drew for me, that time i got my haircut in soho.  and the ticket stub from when we saw ps i love you.

we have walked on every street, hand in hand.  everybody knows how we go together.

i don't even remember, how long it's been, since we've lived together-- all i know is that i can't wait to see you.

today.  tomorrow.  forever.

lost your balance on a tight rope, it's never too late to get it back

i remember exactly exactly when things started falling apart.

i remember exactly which decisions were the wrong decisions.

i remember, but i can't do anything about it. 

i can't go back in time.

all i can do is pick up the pieces and continue moving forward, despite the set back.


this reminds me of the line in the tim burton' movie "big fish"-- they say when you meet the love of your life, time stops, and that's true. what they don't tell you is that when it starts again, it moves extra fast to catch up.


i don't know anything about love but i think the same rules apply to tragedy.  only in some cases, things fuck you up so bad that when time starts speeding again- you spend the rest of your life just trying to catch up......


sometimes i think that it's possible you'll get there and sometimes i don't.


what can i say?  i don't claim to have any answers. 


that's why i'm writing i guess.  not just today but every day. maybe someday it will all make sense.


not just for me-- but for you too.

i never try anything, i just do it-- want to try me?

you are awkward

the hesitation in your voice

it's

long.


i wonder

what is inside

that empty space


what is it

that makes you get lost

in

between

words


i've seen you react

with such conviction

and i've seen you

paralyzed

with doubt



control or be controlled



we're all wild animals

dear



even in captivity



you can practice

even perfect

your roar

but

not

your

bite

and he looks at me like a prince but i know i better bite the bullet cuz it's just another one of his jedi mind tricks

i was cleaning out the boxes on the top of the closet today.  boxes that i keep but never really open, you know? 

and at the bottom of the lucky brand perfume box with the shiny pink cover, was the letter that you sent to me.

it was still in the envelope.  addressed to me in all capital letters.  my name underlined.  postmarked september 25, 1996.

inside are two letters-- one hand written on yellow lined paper and the other perfectly typed explaining how you wrote the first letter but forgot to actually send it.

i know i wasn't the only one to receive a letter from you that summer but still, that letter made me feel special.  it seemed like you put a lot of effort into it, you know, like you cared.

and when i found it today, i read it, your words are just as perfect now as they were then.  i think it would surprise even you, to look back and read the wise words that you wrote to me at 21.  (more yoda than luke skywalker--i know you'll like that.)

not that you will ever read this.  because we never stayed in touch.  the last time i saw you was 12 years ago on foss hill.  you were not as interested in me as i was in you.

it's not a bad thing.  life happens the way that it's supposed to, right?  i just think it's ironic that years later we both ended up living in the same borough and yet still remained strangers.

that's nothing new for me. 

i've written about that before.  how someone you know becomes someone that you knew. 

i mean, if i ever had the opportunity to speak to you again i don't know what i would say.  besides thank you, for sending that letter.  it meant the world to me once and it still makes me smile.  and i hope your life now is better than you ever thought it could be then. 

may the force be with you

 

want a violent girl who's not scared of anything help me kill my time cuz i'll never be fine

this morning i had a crisis.

a total fucking melt down.

there were tears.

there was a lot of yelling.

and slamming doors.  yeah.  there was a lot of slamming doors.


it all started when i woke up and got dressed.  there was a breeze coming in through the window and i thought-- maybe i should wear jeans. 

i knew this day was coming.  i was just trying to put it off for as long as possible.

jeans day.


i don't know what happened.  i mean, i put the jeans on and looked in the mirror and the shit hit the fan.  seriously.  i mean, all of the sudden it was like nothing but me wearing jeans and it was not good.  they pulled, they stretched, they highlighted every flaw i work so hard to hide.  i can't even tell you how the sight of my reflection just knocked the wind right out of me.


all of the sudden i was in it-- this place of self loathing and i could not find a way out.  i tried on every pair of jeans i own.  skinny, straight, flare-- black, blue, distressed--- only hating myself more and more. 


i've never liked wearing jeans-- they've always been uncomfortable to me.  and my legs have always been a source of stress for me.  i just want them to be different.  drastically different.  (not like oh i want a pony someday kind of want.  but like a real painful kind of want that you feel on a primal, guttoral level).


so putting on jeans this morning, for the first time in 5 months was tragic.  and no i am not exaggerating.  i would have ripped my skin off if i thought i could do it and survive.  i went from the bedroom to the closet, slamming the door with each entrance and exit-- to laying on my bed in the fetal position sobbing-- to walking out the front door, to going back inside, tearing one pair of jeans off and pulling another pair on-- to more crying, more slamming, more stomping.


my poor boyfriend just sat on the couch with his head in his hands. 


there is no fixing me when i go this low.  there is nothing that anybody can do but let me cry it out until i'm so exhausted that i fall alseep or get so delirious and blurry eyed that i don't care what i look like anymore.


and it sounds so ridiculous-- to care so much about what i look like.  because i don't put that much emphasis on the way people look.  i mean, i don't judge other people the way i judge myself.  i don't hate anybody for the way they look-- except for myself. 


but i really do hate myself.  because i don't like the way i look in my jeans.  and that's just the story i chose for today.


hopefully tomorrow will be different. 

xo xo xo

they will catch me if i dare drop back, won't you give me all the speed i lack

i just remembered how this one time it snowed before christmas.  he came over late one night on his snowmobile....like not here but to my parents house.  and it was strange how like, they (my parents) didn't wake up because he drove it (his snow mobile) across the front lawn and waited for me beside the front door.  like he knew that i would come out.  dressed.  and ready to go.

but i did.  because i was a fucking wreck.  you know like i was so sure that other shoe was going to drop that i wasn't going to sit around waiting for it, you know.

and it wasn't cold.  or that cold-- anyway.  if it was, i don't really remember.

all i remember was racing down the hill like there was no tomorrow.  trembling with a cocktail of excitement and fear because we didn't stop or look both ways before crossing the street.

the earth was so quiet and the sky was so black......sprinkled with a handful of stars......lightly dusted with a sugar coating of snow as we raced farther and farther away from everything that i knew.

i didn't know where i was going.  i just held on.  

there is like this feeling, when you know you're slipping, falling, sliding out of control and like you know there is nothing that you can do to stop it-- and in that moment you have a choice-- like you can say fuck it and let go and freak out and try to brace yourself.  

but it doesn't matter what you do-- nothing prepares you for the future.  nothing.

it just happens.  life just happens.  

and it happens easier when you let go.

i try to remember that, when i'm like white knuckling it through the day.  the feeling of not knowing and not caring-- just being in the moment.

because that was a long time ago, i guess.  and somewhere along the way i started believing that i'm like, fragile.  that life is fragile.  and maybe it is, you know.

but like, who the fuck cares? what good is it, if you always stay inside the lines?  my biggest fear is looking back and saying i followed all the rules.  

i used to be pretty good at making my own.