"with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol & cock & endless balls, incomparable blind; streets of shuddering cloud & lightning"Ginsberg

I am moving to Boston because sometimes it is easier to leave than live around people who erase you as insincere. Tootles everyone, especially you, Mr. Ryan Wyld.

breakneck speed

Sometimes you fall in and out of love with your bestfriend.

But I fell in love and he, he changed his mind. Then I wrote a love letter. I said I was sorry for the way I was, for how I've become out of a fullbodied desire not to be myself or here anymore. How I don't think I will ever be perfect enough for anyone to stay for, to want, with all the forest fires in my head. And he said...nothing. I didn't want this to stop. So I wait. I wait and am afraid of hope so I think about wanting to have enough guts to hope, but don't. I avoid the disppointment that I assume my life will wrought on itself.

Tuesday I tripped on shrooms and tried to literly rip my face off in a bar mirror downtown as tress and spiders and words climbed out the sides of my cheeks. It's a shame. The broken blood vessels will be a reminder, for the next three months, that the only thing you have left after you do everything that you think you want to do is consequences.

Oh, and I am a pretty good waitress.