there are two ten cent euros in my coat pocket.
nick and i hung out last thursday. battle royale and harry potter with new audio. i met his kitty, oeuf, stole sips of beer and ate hummus. i like having somebody new to talk with.
my hands are cold seeing as how i've been without heat for two weeks.
wrapped up in blakets with a mug of hot chocolate on the nightstand next to me on top of white teeth. whip cream melted away and bear close by. twelve and a half hours of sleep. the fever dulled away. stale sticky bun with sugary coffee in the morning.
we bought shoes and pants on sunday.
i miss cider and sourdough bowls of clam chowder from san francisco.
the wonder years in a worn purple bath robe.
i wish things were slightly more exciting.
and that i could be in greece right now. warm and well fed.
aesop rock and mr. lif on the coldest night of the year. constant motion, ground shaking beats and white people. close enough to breathe down one another's necks. the ladies and i danced together.
will someone buy me some pink rubber rain boots?


tonight, on my mother's birthday:
(cyan was talking about her life path or some new age bullshit she and my mom understand. she wants to do something with art in college)
moi: looks like you'll get to support us for a long time, eh?
mom: no! (cut off)
moi: b/c we need to take care of our old mama
mom: you didn't even let me finish, i didn't get to say oo-wee or say take care of your old mama.
moi: we know you so well.
hah ha ha
moi: besides, i'll marry rich.
cyan: yeah me too
moi: then we'll take care of you
cyan: yeah, i'll marry and then take all their money.
moi: yeah, cyan's going to be a gold digger.
mom: you guys are darling.
if you know my sister, it's that more hilarious.


the pony top ten:
one. hot pink
two. sharks
three. jay-z: justify my thug
four. emails with substance
five. wilco
six. sun in the morning
seven. bagels with cream cheese
eight. kitties
nine. drawing in a sketchbook
ten. driving away from here
i want to live inside of jesus, etc. by wilco:

jesus, don't cry
you can rely on me, honey
you can combine anything you want
i'll be around
you were right about the stars
each one is a setting sun

tall buildings shake
voices escape singing sad sad songs
tuned to chords
strung down your cheeks
bitter melodies turning your orbit around

don't cry
you can rely on me honey
you can come by any time you want
i'll be around
you were right about the stars
each one is a setting sun

tall buildings shake
voices escape singing sad sad songs
tuned to chords
strung down your cheeks
bitter melodies turning your orbit around

voices whine
skyscrapers are scraping together
your voice is smoking
last cigarettes are all you can get
yurning your orbit around

our love
out of
our love is all we have
our love
our love is all of god's money
every one is a burning sun

tall buildings shake
voices escape singing sad sad songs
tuned to chords
strung down your cheeks
bitter melodies turning your orbit around

voices whine
skyscrapers are scraping together
your voice is smoking
last cigarettes are all you can get
turning your orbit around

last cigarettes are all you can get
turning your orbit around

last cigarettes are all you can get
turning your orbit around


i've been writing a lot to two different people. and both of them are special to me. every word i type is a cathartic release:
hey sweetie
long time no see.
the stars are out.
my neck is sore.
i won a headbanging contest on friday night. i had to brace myself to keep from falling over. the prize, an inflatable microphone. comes in handy when screaming the words to ace of base in the car. i sing loud and completely out of tune. but it makes me feel good. did you used to rock out as a kid? i know you do now.
today i went to the library to find some books to use in my design project. i found the stero total cd, the new chuck palahniuk (diary:a novel), and almost borrowed madame butterfly. i decided i wasn't ready to get so cultured yet.
waffles are so good. and so is hot cocoa made from real cocoa.
my windows are open and the air drifts in languidly.
ben lee is singing birthday song over the speakers and the house is dark with the exception of my bedside lamp. silouettes of birds and flowers.
if only i could fly.
i like everything to be dimly lit.
i think if i'm quiet for long enough, things start to feel better.
the sheets are rumpled. i still need a new lightbulb for my other lamp.
there's a pile of art against the wall waiting to be hung.
it's quiet and nice.
the most blathering email? try the best. i read it hunched towards the
computer screen, chin resting in palm and smiling.
my house still smells like gas. i think the pilot light for my heater is
out, which therefore makes the gas leak. i hate this aprtment for the sole
fact that the pilot lights for everything constantly go out. i can't tell
you how many times i've walked in the apartment and it smells like gas. i
just wonder how many of my brain cells are dying right now as i type this.
the smell is actually pretty over powering right now. i'm afraid that if i
light the pilot now, the hosue will blow up. like in fight club. i have the
windows open too, and i'm still slightly nauseous.
i wanted to rent some dvds at the library. but apart from madame butterfly,
there was nothing i wanted. and then i realized i didn't want to be alone
watching an opera. so i passed it up. we should watch a movie together soon.
ever since the bf left, i have a lot more free time which consequently leads to
hours wasted in front of this screen. at least if we were wasting hours
together, it wouldn't be quite as pathetic. haha.
i was in houston visiting brian. we rented gangs in ny. sucked. good story,
but honestly scorsese, you've done better...much better. no museum, but it's
on the list of things to do in the future. ate a lot.
isn't it nice being in touch with your feelings? haha. ben and i once
watched this really cute korean movie about a boy and his grandmother. have
you ever seen my life as a dog? it's a good foreign film. you should check
it out and report back to me. i <3 the wonder years. talk about a heart
tugger. ahaha.
the fact that you've never done anything like painting is entirely the
reason you should.
what does it mean when iu download seven elton john songs?
you so don't even have a hard ass image. you like to think you do, but you
i guess if we were to examine our personal studies as broader subjects, you
would have more knowledge of mechanics and information and i would be
knowledgeable of expression. yet we both have an understanding of creation
in slightly different ways. i like having the two different sides. it's
almost like one of us is the left side and the other the right. to take it
to quasi-new age levels. we are but one brain when we connect. hahahahahaha.
driving can be very nice. for the longest time, driving for long spanses was
like a time to be alone. i get a lot of thinking done if i'm at the wheel.
or a lot of reading if i'm the passenger. i took a book on tape with me for
the trip. and don't laugh. a garrison keillor book. when i was younger i
used to listen to his stuff when i went to bed. but it's soothing to me. i
like books on tape. hearing the story allows me to swallow every word and
appreciate the random anecdotes.
what would you want to wake up and say at thirty three?
ennui. oh i feel you. the french have a lot of words that make the bad
things seem more dramatic.
you socialize? don't jest!
i didn't think you were underdressed. you always look put together when i
see you. all i cared about was dancing. and i'll call you on it until it
you must have some gnarly scars. i don't have many, i suppose that means i'm
not living the awesome life.
lately my life (excluding school) has consisted of reading, exploring new
music and the internet. i think i need a new hobby and some new friends. but
finding something good to listen to can be quite a fulfilling activity.
i watched sex and the city all summer, took a math class and went to movies.
the smell in here is overwhelming. i will continue this later...
i''m glad that i have people that help me recount the day.


it is so cold.
i wish someone was here to snuggle.
feels good. looks good. sounds good.
my hand shadows are being reflected onto the wall.
baked potato soup and a demi baguette.
please don't let me fall asleep in class.
there goes the fear again.
am i breaking up into fuzz?


last night a six year old told me that you can't change the future. he asked me why the world was so messy. and i didn't know the answer.
my boyfriend is gone. he moved away.
dark denim jacket and a gray knitted scarf wrapped round my neck in attempts to stay warm on the bridge. the kids played their show. i <3 fancy feast. all huddled around the edge. cigarettes brought to parted lips, feet lifting from the pavements and the passing traffic left streaks as they passed. groups of guys humped each other and the ladies moved to the beat.
the strokes rule and fuck you if you don't agree.
nick aka little man and i have started talking again. corresponding. writing. bantering. whatever. i like having a constant conversation.
hip hop vs. rap: discuss
i like my hot chocolate with milk and real cocoa served straight from the stove.
old email:
dear rockstar
isn't it pretty outside when the sun shines slightly covered by clouds. i can't describe the color or the feeling. something like, umm pale and washed out like beach morning or soft and doughy like rolls with butter melting on top. maybe more blue, like the rim of your cup. i wonder if i have time to make a cup of coffee. i'm listening to ms. carly simon. is she married? i don't know.
i wish my boyfriend was here right now.


the kids underneath me are playing a muddled "heart and soul" on a keyboard and singing really off key.
god bless america.


dear colin firth,
i love you.
i love dots, too.
i stole some from the kids i babysit for.
haha, one point me, zero points kids.