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...

I'ma spell it out for ya now...

The embers in your eyes burn red with those sparkling bits of copper
and I am drawn to you
I want to tell you everything.
I want to know everything even more.