Fancy seeing you again....

As it so happens every once in a blue moon,
I felt the need to unload, update & clarify:
So Here I Am

Moving time again.......

Ughhh....

Why? I have lived here for less than 3 months and now we don't even have an official place to go,

The shitty thing is that everyone is stressed out about it but refuses to have productive conversations about our

soon to be "homeless" status.

Which is fine for them, because monetarily speaking they have an "out" so to speak,

but my options are really quite limited in this arena.

It's either free or nothing.

If I had more time I could easily clean and set up a squat,

but there is no time, and my housemates keep on jerking me around with answers that change on a daily basis.

It's exhausting and depressing.

And the high stress levels are very apparent,

though it's really starting to seem like they don't want me around.

I'm sure that I'm just overanalyzing,

but it feels like they're avoiding me......

Right now, everyone is up stairs playing video games,

and no one asked if I wanted to come. And last night when I invited myself in to watch movies with them, they wound up turning the movie off within minutes of my arrival and going to sleep shortly thereafter.

I feel really petty blogging about my adolescent woes,

but it's little things like this adding up

and bumming me the fuck out.

Don't get me wrong, I'm totally stoked on life

and excited about what's to come.

Plus this house sucks so it will be fantastic to be out and closer to the city...

Just for now it's pretty alienating.

Happy Craptober.

I wish, with

absolutely everything inside of me,

that all winter could be spent curled up in bed with some great books, lots of blankets,

and an endless cup of tea.

There is always too much to do.

The cold can suck a fat one.

Hello again, old Friend

Back on the blogging circut.
Back in Seattle.
And no longer living at my parents again!
Freshly unemployed with a growing sense of wild.
Far less inhibited by the constraints of normalcy
(I just dont give a fuck anymore)
And Sneaky Paws is still a wild 'n crazy kid

I am madly in love with
the idea of sitting quietly sipping coffee and reading books,
in a well lit kitchen on a beautiful spring day.
hanging plants and dusty sunbeams shining through the window.
uttering only a few words, smiling and occasionally gazing...
a record playing softly in the background. Something nice, Billy Holliday perhaps?
bare feet tapping and chirping birds.
brilliant bouquets,
the sweet scent of freshly ground ethiopian eurgacheffe.
crisp white t-shirts, a purring kitten,
...love like i haven't felt in quite a while,
only a little better.

Catharsis v melodrama

I need art.

I crave art.

I think about these beautiful, horrible and honest creations all day long

and my earnest desire to tell the truth will forever be my burden.

A mind that wont rest, perhaps until it has all been put on paper.

A mind that may never rest regardless of what I do with these memories,

but I know that I must if only for an inkling of hope.

perhaps a bit of both।
but it's wild how things work....

Breathe easy honey,

All those secrets I've held on to for so many years are about to be reality.
Years of repression all brought to the surface, and all the things that make me feel weird inside,
make me feel weird outside now, too.
Opening up is terrifying. I hate to be pitied and I don't want attention
but it's too late to think like that, so here I am, vulnerable as ever and ready to move on.
maybe I'll be a functional member of society soon.



I can't wait to be back in Portland...