I’m getting sick of having agents and managers for my life, dammit. Not to say that I always have the most brilliant ideas. But FUCK. PS- I hurt. Owwww. I blame MILTON!!!!! Anyhow. Need to do some stuff today. Apparently I’m meeting smam at coffee. My crazy feelings from last night have somewhat subsided but I think I’m getting better ideas about what I need to do now. ...
God fucking dammit. Directness has been getting me nowhere. I don’t know if I am sad or angry. Both. I need to talk to someone, not as a Tessa, as a sad person. I don’t want to waste my tears, I don’t want this to eat at me. I should talk about it. Ok, ok. But who can talk? More and more my system shrinks. Things like this happen. Friends can be superficial. At least...
We are doing the best we can. Honesty is never a brain fuck. So thank you. Thank you for existing, I want to say. I didn’t surprise myself with that piece of paper I gave you. And here you are. Hello? It doesn’t matter. I am me. If you think you love that, then you must know it. Real it. But the risk makes me want to keep one finger in my pocket. I am humpty dumpty. And I...
sleep me down
Tardy home I try not to tread I wait for her to leave so I can shower, knowing that she won’t realize I have just arrived home. I know it worries her, even though it needn’t. I can’t tell if she is really leaving yet or not. I wonder whether or not to bother with it now. Wait till I wake up. Whenever that will be. I get excited to dream, though I can’t yet predict...
No one is home. I pound myself and scream for you.
stomp don't tiptoe
I think I am more annoyed than depressed. Yeah, I’m not sad today. I’m just so fucking fed up. I don’t care anymore.
Is anything valid in pixels I loose part of myself in the lost you I get used to nothing And something comes along I eat it alive You choke on the givens They have nested inside me What do you need? Do you know what you need? I will forever wonder if you know enough about yourself and if you really want to know anything about me.
catch catch strings
I need to cut my nails, for they have chipped and ail me with catching on things. My lips are jacked up today. I am really considering getting rid of this fucking lip ring. It’s driving me crazy and I can’t stop fucking with it. Ughh. I feel less sickly. Maybe I’ll be able to do something today. Something. For now, first things first. EAT!
I worry. For some reason, my stomach drops and I worry. What is a lot and what is going on. If you forget, I will be forgotten, and I will move somewhere on. But I often wish I could skip to that now. Part of me wants to be free from these feelings. Part of me wants to relinquish them and forget about this severe connection. This biting love. This burning affection. Good things are...
some kind of horrible
My body has run out of batteries. Depleted. At the wrong moment I’ll probably give you this site to look at. Scare you even more. The thing is, I can’t stop thinking about you tonight. And I’m actually sad. I wonder how you are doing so far away, as if I’m not used to distance, feigned or literal. I think about you in ways I have never thought about anyone before....
Tell me what you’re not feeling. If I have gills then they are filled with frost. These scales haven’t seen light in weeks. It’s cold. I’m used to it. At least I hear songs of whales far away, mournful and enchanting. Home base remains deserted. Brevity is impractical. Hope is humiliating. A four-legged mountain animal sinks in beach sand. What an intimidating...
Sometimes it feels like the week is already over when it’s just beginning. Today is Tuesday night. The week is over. It isn’t. Strange. Life is mundane but not dull. Hungry at one in the morning, futile. I’ll sleep and I’ll be awake in no time. It’s Febuary. The year is over. It isn’t. Not so strange. Time is so relative. It makes patience easier. ...
Home is nice. Home is with me but when I was with you I was me, too. Home is nice, even home alone. Red and white candle burns my my bed. I hope as always to rest and recharge completely. I haven’t slept particularly well lately. More and more I am realizing what a psychologist I am. Sometimes it’s difficult for me not to secretly diagnose everyone I meet or hear about, or at...
I’m creepy sometimes.
[toilet won’t flush. have to keep filling the tank thing with water.] Shit to do today. Chores. My hair needs serious help and when I think I look shitty I feel shitty. Scatteredness is annoying. Not knowing how to spend time and money the most efficiently. Im sure sitting on my bed typing this is super efficient. Procrastination runs deep. It bothers me that you are struggling so....
Damn, this programming is still so strong.
I think I had a dream once that you appeared and saw my bookmarks list. Last night I dreamt that some bitch stole my bike and I had to sneak around to get it back. It was a pink bike. Odd. I am sweating and my head hurts. I would let you touch me anywhere. Despite this throbbing I am infested with ambitions that I know will not be executed today. Oh fag sticks. Woe is me, isn’t...
Oh fuck. A secretive outlet or a specific location? I wonder this as I type. You’re awake. We are always awake at the same time. I want to know what swirls in that stately head. I want to cradle that aching tune that roams your crumbling heart. And yet only you can nourish that melody because only you can hear it. Let yourself hear it, though sometime I can hear notes here and there...
When someone beats you with a flashlight, you make light shine in all...– Jenny Holzer