5/31/12

I count the days and close my eyes. Pretend time moves faster.

5/30/12

Bones grind, arms twist, ribs crackle. Emotions don't break you but sometimes they try.

5/29/12

When he smiles, he becomes a shark. Too many teeth showing, maniacal eyes. I've never wanted to hug a shark so.

5/28/12

T-minus 59 days. Countdown, launch life.

5/28/12

Flowers curl up under the radiation, curled up husks of purple.

5/27/12

Cranes just up from the waterfront, dotting the line like AT AT Walkers from Star Wars.

5/26/12

Mola Ram, she hates him. He'll take your heart if you aren't looking.

5/25/12

Fingers glide over rough surfaces, tacky with goo, like petting a fish.

5/24/12

It's a calming sound, like water over small rocks. So different from the screaming of rubber against cement.

5/23/12

Trees spot the landscape, light green fading to dark, brown muck crawling up their roots. A garbage truck breaks through, a hunk of blue metal stabbing at the woods.

5/22/12

An elephant was on my chest, laughing at me as I gasp.

5/21/12

Branches reach, scraping sides of houses and dropping bits on water on decks. Overgrown, a nuisance. Natural.

5/20/12

Rain hitting the pavement makes the same sound as the sizzling sound of barbequeing steaks. It doesn't make me hungry.

5/19/12

Bright red lips and hoop skirts, sexism and smiles.

5/18/12

Victory is a drug, sloshing through my muddled veins and jerking my up like a marionette on strings, controlled by a spastic operator. Then my strings are cut and I realize it's time to start all over again.

5/17/12

There's an IV in my arm, sucking all the money out. I wonder if this education is worth the amount I'm paying.

5/16/12

The balcony is almost empty. Spiders make silky homes, leaves cover the dirty ground. I put a potted plant out  there but there's no table so it's sitting on the ground, a splash of white trash color against the brown.

5/15/12

My car is adorned. A mustache on the hood. A bumper sticker in the back that says "Nice Truck, Sorry About Your Small Penis." An X-Men logo on the side. A Star Trek emblem on the back. If a car could encompass a personality, it'd be spot on with me.

5/14/12

Noodles. Finagled. Fruit. Supercalifragilisticespialidocious. Atrocious.

5/13/12

"Women make it happen in the kitchen." There are reasons why I don't go to church, the sexism screaming. The message is clear, domestic women keep the world turning. People like me have no place here right?

5/12/12

Being overwhelmed is like being drowned, squished. You're not presented with anything hard, anything out of your control, but you sink and sink anyways. 

5/11/12

Sun kissed. Sun warmed. Tan. Burn burn burn.

5/10/12

The lizard's tongue slides over the harmonica, tongue flapping out occasionally. He made history.

5/9/12

Education is supposed to make you more competent. Yet every time I learn something new, I think that's one more thing in a whole new subject that I don't know and am already behind in.

5/8/12

Thunder only happens when it's raining...

How true. The loud and beautiful comes with the cold and the wet. Sometimes, in the right time and the right place, the rain is warm hands tickling the face, the thunder the rumbling laugh of someone with their arms wrapped around you.

5/7/12

Waking from a nap is like waking from death. Power nap, cat nap, it'll make you feel great. No, it makes you a sluggish mess. I stumble, stab myself, fall on the ground, fuck it I'm going to bed.

5/6/12

"Cinco de Drinko" is code for "LET'S GET DRUNK AND YELL AND OH MY GOD IS THAT A CAR ALARM BUTTON ON MY KEY CHAIN BECAUSE THIS IS THE COOLEST SHIT EVER."

I slept. And ate shrimp.

5/5/12

I'm stalked by Christians, begging to save my soul. They tell me how great their god is, how horrible sin is and how hot hell will be. I tell them how awesome lesbian sex is. I love seeing their face when they realized I'm some godless pagan, like being near me will drag them down, too.

5/4/12

It's burnout they say. You're lazy they say. Only a few months left, you'll be fine they say. I'll break your nose, I say.

5/3/12

My dad wants me to name my fish Glub. Why? "Because if you get two fish they can be Glub and Glub, GlubGlub! That's the sound bubbles make!" A few days later I get a card in the mail with two goldfish covered in glitter, congratulating my fish on having a new home.

5/2/12

The burning oil splatters my arm, burrowing into my skin. Mustard seeds pop, snapping like little land mines under the chicken. The peppers set mouths on fire, and they smile.

5/1/12

Muses fly around me, laughing. They toss a little dose on my head, just a glimmer of an idea almost out of reach. I can see it, almost taste it, then by the time I go to write it down, it floats away. And there they sit, laughing.