my tummy is full from my sticky rice with egg custard and my fingers are sticky from the dumplings.
i like when all the colors come together and i remember the day i fell in like with you.
b/c we were standing near a fire. i kept rubbing my hands together and blowing warm breath inside the cup they formed while you were out and about and around and my eyes kept wandering searching for your face among the other faces flickering with flames and the moon and the bedroom light switched on inside. and the conversations i had were only half ass b/c i was thinking of you. it smelled like camp and my clothes did later. the smoke followed. and i made you laugh so hard you spit your beer out on the ground. my lips almost touched the lobe of your ear as i whispered my story and i could feel your hair brush against my cheek and i couldn't stop thinking about the way your face looked pulled up in a smile and what your eyes meant to me and how it felt when you looked at me like everything else blurred around and made me feel as if i were floating and something inside me was trying to get out and flutter away. it was warm like holding a cup of cocoa and i wanted you to know later when we were inside and i pretended to study but ended up touching you instead. while you were on the phone and your socks were off. and it was innocent in a loaded way. in a marcellus wallace way. i just wanted you to know.


my animals are spinning round in the washing machine.
peter rabbit i love you.


i want to hide under your sweater b/c you keep me warm and close. and it will be soft and round and breathing all around me in my golden world. when you kiss my head my eyes close loosely and my lips purse slightly b/c you are so...
the sun gathers up, pulling low into a curtsy dipping beneath at the horizon and orange light and ripples and shadows play like silhouettes in motion to silent songs playing out of range of hearing but still beat rhythm pulsing through my hands and head and heart.
you are so far away and yet if i were to reach inside me with fingers moving i could find you deep within. b/c you are my golden boy with soft cheeks and hands and a place for me to rest my head beneath your collar bone so i can hear the whispers like tiny silk strings tugging at my ear.


i saw an airplane in the sky and pretended you were inside looking down at me. the sky was so blue and no clouds concealed the view and then the plane disappeared and i could not see it anymore, but i smiled anyway.
dried leaves and shoegazers and my bright eyes and you.
i saw a pigeon taking a bath in a puddle. its feathers puffed out in a ball of gray and white. he saw me looking at him and paused and i paused and then turned back to my book.
banana splits and a photobooth. we held hands in paper caves and kissed in tents. paint dripping down towards neurons and hearts and repeating concentric circles. curled up with audrey and champagne or under trees near our creek by the bridge. i saw a tree that had been struck by lightning, raw and jagged, but orange fungus grew upon it. nick held me up. when i touched the spongeyness of it the color darkened and i screamed.
assacre = awesome as always
kerry = whipping bush's ass as always.
laissez les bon temps rouler. perhaps montreal is the place for me.
i want to fly on an airplane again and look at the clouds and the rivers and the snow and the ocean below. see andy goldworthy.
i made something pretty to glow at night when i cannot sleep. inside it holds the moon and a thousand birds.


i fucking hate our cunty little fights.
a) they happen so rarely yet they leave us a fucking mess
b) it's bloody ridiculous not being able to console one another face to face
c) d.c. to austin: the lamest distance ever
d) i love nick and he loves me

in other news, it has been perfect weather for driving with the windows down (omgzzzz total-e california style). however, on the reverse, it has been leaving me with a longing for lmg's warm body next to mine at night. you are golden.

smoothies = delicious.

friday = most joyous day. guaranteed to be better than christmas.

it has been hard. so so so hard. those eyes and those arms so far away from mine. and otis redding on repeat does no justice to the night we spent dancing cheek to cheek (or close to it).

so i send postcards with birdies and hearts on them.

i am going to paint birdies on my wall.

which i will paint a bluegreen/greenblue. i'm undecided.

but my curtains will be pink!