Sunday, October 31, 2010

This weekend, I have...

severed all ties with one of the most defining parts of my life so far

accosted several poor young people

stood up to authority, sort of

seen myself in a student film, as a deranged person

been Indiana Jones

watched an episode of Hey Arnold

written a play (partially)

read some Freud

eaten dinner with a professor who has seen me pee and maybe was once engaged to Mulder from the X-Files

Monday, October 18, 2010

A Love Poem


Have no idea,

How much,

I think about,

Your dick

Sunday, October 17, 2010


I don’t want to write anything but these words that mean a fuckton

I don’t know how else to measure up to this

This, this kaleidoscope universe,

This rainbow life,

These everlasting brightyears,

I mean it

All of it

An exact metric shitload

Please, feel the weight of it on your graceless neck and back

I know the burden of meaning is not an easy one to bear,

Be a bear with me (rawr),

I’m trying my best to bridge the gaps of your teeth,

Walk the bridge of your nose,

Seep into your nostrils and your mind like some strange jelly,

Leaking out of a peanut butter sandwich a bitchmile long

You may find this ridiculous concept a little hard to grasp,

Wait until I really pop off those footies, Sir.

I guess I’m talking about love a little bit,

The beyond,

Bodies and distances,


I guess I don’t really know what I’m trying to say,

But please, Lord,

Let it mean a fuckton to you

Monday, October 11, 2010

Sad Indie Bitches

Tonight is sad indie bitches night,
So play me some of that,
Regina, Ingrid,
Some of that Imogen,
I wanna feel like the only reason I don't have a boyfriend is cuz:
"I'm just so passionate about SO MUCH, you know?"
"I just don't think there are any guys who can understand that my soul is first, and foremost,
on my list of things to love."
" I'm waiting for a boy who will spoon and sing with me before he messes with my ladybits."

So, my sisters,
My poor sad indie bitches,
Sing to me of your woes,
Tell me what love should be,
With your ukulele solos and some pretty impressive three part harmonies,
I'm expecting a revelation, somewhere, about womanhood and evidently,
the glockenspiel
I'm expecting some honesty, girls
And I know
that you know
how to dish it out

I think, tonight, we could all use some sad indie bitchin'.

Sunday, October 3, 2010


We spend so much time doubting ourselves. You're not allowed to be sad, you're not allowed to freak out, you're not allowed to wear that outfit, you're not allowed to read into things, you're not allowed to be cocky, you're not allowed to judge, you're not allowed to be too excited, too nervous, too forward, too upset...

And maybe it's not everyone, but I think that the majority of people wonder if they're even allowed to be human sometimes.

So I wonder. If everyone just, for one day, allowed themselves to indulge in these "not allowed" feelings, maybe we would all be a lot more satisfied with life for a little bit.

I think self-indulgence is necessary, sometimes. That's just my personal opinion.

So cry if you want to, okay?