| long time no sea. |
[22 Nov 2009|10:26pm] |
obie is getting so big! rawr.
nat and i went to the HARRY POTTER EXHIBITION at the museum of science over the weekend. it was fucking incredible. we couldn't take photos inside since there were too many ministry goons but here are some from the...parking lot. haha.
yeah. i got a high kick.
if you live near boston and are a fan of harry potter you NEED to go there. holy shit.
<3
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| looking forward to: |
[16 Jun 2009|11:44pm] |
not looking forward to:
peeing for the upteenth time today. aep8r3pwrjp;alsfdsa
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| indefinite vacation: |
[31 May 2009|04:02pm] |
i just had a cigarette - the sun showers have transformed into blustery cold dark gray waterfalls.
if i call it quitting..well it just won't work.
the patch - the gums- are too damn expensive. probably will end up costing less than then? this fucking vice in the end. who knows the language better than then i do? when do i use then and not than?
i had a pepsi throw-back then i inhaled smoke back.
better than. weakerthans.
right?
camel lights
american spirit lights
pall mall full flavor
death stick.
nat is yelling about the printing machine that doesn't work.
listening to rio en medio = heaven
i think we might watch an episode of true blood while we wait for the banners to finish printing.
fuck you, oral fixations.
i need to apply for more jobs now. a migration of sorts has begun without the proper goods at hand.
le poop.
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| shit. |
[29 Apr 2009|11:15am] |
The ash gray mini-van has its trunk wide open
Like a hippo’s mouth without the teeth and the woman who stands
shoulders down, hands to face, is crying- I think she is crying.
At her feet lies crumpled a cat or maybe toy for someone small.
My steel box slows down, surveying the scene and my eyes
form a water shield over my pupils. It causes the hippo-van hearse
to sit there-
fuzzy, soft, and without concrete outlines like the corpse
that lies near it. Two other steel boxes slow down in the opposite lane
and I guess they’re mouths have begun to open like my own.
The sky is a humming blanket in its dirty snow state, humming with the sound of oncoming rain, soggy fur and hot tears. A crow surveys the wreck
with its beak open too and I wish I had a rock to throw.
A greasy black hyena with wings.
That’s not your breakfast, so let it sleep.
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| my moon man: |
[19 Apr 2009|11:34pm] |
libras love scorpios, this i know is true.
nat last year at an arcade at hampton beach. that's a lot of a's, eh?
and here is nat at rye beach this past weekend.
i am in love with the pinhole camera he got me. and all the free 35mm film. aaaaand the tuna tartar i just ate with an entire jar of pickled ginger.
i don't know if i will be able to sleep after that hallmark movie...yeah, it was just written. hallmark, i hate to love you.
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| this dress is super delicious: |
[14 Apr 2009|05:44pm] |
also, the new W with drew barrymore on the cover is fantastic.
imbalance of power presentation in 15 minutes.
it was good seeing nikki & friends for a hot minute in durham today..harassing old men smoking pipes outside of the barber shop, peace-loving protesters and small swedish-looking blonde children so i could take their photo with my pinhole camera. and nikki, too. "hey nikki- keep that hat on- stay still. hey, nikki. hey hey hey, nikki. a diva is a female version of a hustla!!!!"
dredg & from monument to masses @ the middle east tomorrow with nat & crystal. 16 years old! 22 years old! it's all the same, i suppose.
<3!
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| do your time & then come home for good: |
[12 Apr 2009|10:43pm] |
nat got me a pinhole camera for christmas..and claira gave me a big bag of 35 mm film her father didn't want..so this weekend nat & i put the camera together (i remembered why i kind of liked playing with legos as a kid) and we experimented with it outside/in his apartment..here are some of those photos. they're a little blurry so next time i'll use the card thing to make sure the shutter doesn't move it too much in the next round.
behind the butt:
my moon man:
my baby blue grandma:
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| narcoleptic insomniac: |
[08 Apr 2009|10:10pm] |
The night is only a sort of carbon paper,
Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars
Letting in the light, peephole after peephole --
A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things.
Under the eyes of the stars and the moon's rictus
He suffers his desert pillow, sleeplessness
Stretching its fine, irritating sand in all directions.
Over and over the old, granular movie
Exposes embarrassments--the mizzling days
Of childhood and adolescence, sticky with dreams,
Parental faces on tall stalks, alternately stern and tearful,
A garden of buggy rose that made him cry.
His forehead is bumpy as a sack of rocks.
Memories jostle each other for face-room like obsolete film stars.
He is immune to pills: red, purple, blue --
How they lit the tedium of the protracted evening!
Those sugary planets whose influence won for him
A life baptized in no-life for a while,
And the sweet, drugged waking of a forgetful baby.
Now the pills are worn-out and silly, like classical gods.
Their poppy-sleepy colors do him no good.
His head is a little interior of grey mirrors.
Each gesture flees immediately down an alley
Of diminishing perspectives, and its significance
Drains like water out the hole at the far end.
He lives without privacy in a lidless room,
The bald slots of his eyes stiffened wide-open
On the incessant heat-lightning flicker of situations.
Nightlong, in the granite yard, invisible cats
Have been howling like women, or damaged instruments.
Already he can feel daylight, his white disease,
Creeping up with her hatful of trivial repetitions.
The city is a map of cheerful twitters now,
And everywhere people, eyes mica-silver and blank,
Are riding to work in rows, as if recently brainwashed.
i think i've already posted this for myself..i came upon this again while attempting to begin my auto-ethnography for narrative class. plath kills it. el fin.
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| hola, abril. |
[01 Apr 2009|10:52am] |
el vestido a la izquierda. mmmmm..
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| singy song song: |
[30 Mar 2009|12:47pm] |
i can't wait to ride my white
lightning into setting sun
my boyfriend he made it with
his own hands, calloused palm
i can't wait to ride my white
lightning into setting sun
whisper winds and creaking pine
polished steel all in time
i can't wait to ride my white
lightning with blue saddle
white brake cord and cruiser bars
i can't wait to ride my
to ride my
my white lightning!
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| it's finished! |
[23 Mar 2009|07:50am] |
in other news i am totally obsessed with john adams & i so wish i had HBO...can't wait for true blood parties!!!!!! and being done with school so nat & i can finally make an album in real time...aka not three weekends or less.
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taketoberlin's journal
