"Fuck yeah, Yeah I fuck"
"Let's go find some honeys"
"Because we're hurt people, and hurt people need to FUCK"
"We'll fuck some goth bitches. Yeah, goth bitches."
Monday, February 23, 2009
Friday, February 20, 2009
Apparently,
Andrew and I are madly in love, hence why we're going on this trip. Because we're so deeply in love with eachother.
AND,
We fuck like bunnies. That's the only reason he even comes to town. He would stay in town with me so that we could fuck like bunnies all the time, but he really hates St. Augustine. So right now we're in the middle of a long distance love affair and when we do talk we call eachother annoying pet names. e.g. Sugarlips, Shnookums, Cuddlebear.
This is the shit that the people in my former life have thought up. So now I'm just going to go with it. Except I think that a better scenario involves me getting knocked up because we never use condoms (people that are as in love as we are don't need to practice safe sex, because we're all crazy in love) and we'll travel the country and settle down in Canada when it's baby time. They have health insurance and speak some form of French.
Ha. Leda, Please laugh with me on this one....
Andrew and I are madly in love, hence why we're going on this trip. Because we're so deeply in love with eachother.
AND,
We fuck like bunnies. That's the only reason he even comes to town. He would stay in town with me so that we could fuck like bunnies all the time, but he really hates St. Augustine. So right now we're in the middle of a long distance love affair and when we do talk we call eachother annoying pet names. e.g. Sugarlips, Shnookums, Cuddlebear.
This is the shit that the people in my former life have thought up. So now I'm just going to go with it. Except I think that a better scenario involves me getting knocked up because we never use condoms (people that are as in love as we are don't need to practice safe sex, because we're all crazy in love) and we'll travel the country and settle down in Canada when it's baby time. They have health insurance and speak some form of French.
Ha. Leda, Please laugh with me on this one....
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Hey Jude, don't make it bad...
Take a sad song and make it better.
Trying.
Last night, after a few beers and 50 bucks worth of weed, I sat there in a substance abuse induced coma. Marveled at how good cigarette smoke feels as you force it into your lungs. How pretty it looks when you exhale. How fucked up it is that we're all slowly killing ourselves through our vices. The shit that kills is the only shit that makes you feel like living at all. I'm not suicidal, therapist ma'am, I'm just like everyone else.
We'll all die someday, right? So fuck suicidal thoughts. Depression. Following the rules. "Supposed tos".
Eat your vegetables? Don't talk to strangers? Respect your elders? Fuck that noise. I'm dying, and so are you and them and everyone. Why don't we just do more of what we want? Icecream before dinner. Vodka tonics. Boys that are all wrong. I suppose this is part of the whole idea behind this trip. I know what I'm "supposed to" do and exactly how to do it. I CHOOSE to do what I want, even though I'm clueless as to how to go about doing it. Hard to do something that you've never done without looking at every moment in your life and saying through clenched teeth...
"Fuck everything."
Trying.
Last night, after a few beers and 50 bucks worth of weed, I sat there in a substance abuse induced coma. Marveled at how good cigarette smoke feels as you force it into your lungs. How pretty it looks when you exhale. How fucked up it is that we're all slowly killing ourselves through our vices. The shit that kills is the only shit that makes you feel like living at all. I'm not suicidal, therapist ma'am, I'm just like everyone else.
We'll all die someday, right? So fuck suicidal thoughts. Depression. Following the rules. "Supposed tos".
Eat your vegetables? Don't talk to strangers? Respect your elders? Fuck that noise. I'm dying, and so are you and them and everyone. Why don't we just do more of what we want? Icecream before dinner. Vodka tonics. Boys that are all wrong. I suppose this is part of the whole idea behind this trip. I know what I'm "supposed to" do and exactly how to do it. I CHOOSE to do what I want, even though I'm clueless as to how to go about doing it. Hard to do something that you've never done without looking at every moment in your life and saying through clenched teeth...
"Fuck everything."
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
So. Glass half full shit.
1) I had an interesting conversation with the moms.
Mom: Lauren, you just need to realize that the glass is half full.
Moi: Mother, my glass is empty. Actually, there is no glass. Some asshole broke my glass, so it's a bit difficult to think of my non-existant glass being half full of anything.
2) Adam (Boss' babycakes) has learned to say uh-oh. He has also developed the talent of getting into breakable objects at the tea store. He'll look straight at me as I shake my head no and nod his little head yes while he breaks everything. Adorable? Possibly.
3) I've been put on another medication, which probably won't work, which means I'll probably be taking 3 different ones adding up to a whopping 90 or so grams of meds. Goodbye world. Goodbye focus. Hello incoherence.
I feel like there was a fourth....but my mind is gallavanting on the island of LOST among attractive actors/actresses. Where the shit is Dru? I'm hungry.
1) I had an interesting conversation with the moms.
Mom: Lauren, you just need to realize that the glass is half full.
Moi: Mother, my glass is empty. Actually, there is no glass. Some asshole broke my glass, so it's a bit difficult to think of my non-existant glass being half full of anything.
2) Adam (Boss' babycakes) has learned to say uh-oh. He has also developed the talent of getting into breakable objects at the tea store. He'll look straight at me as I shake my head no and nod his little head yes while he breaks everything. Adorable? Possibly.
3) I've been put on another medication, which probably won't work, which means I'll probably be taking 3 different ones adding up to a whopping 90 or so grams of meds. Goodbye world. Goodbye focus. Hello incoherence.
I feel like there was a fourth....but my mind is gallavanting on the island of LOST among attractive actors/actresses. Where the shit is Dru? I'm hungry.
Monday, February 2, 2009
This isn't about me, but it hurts.
It's strange how everything you think you know can be changed in an instant. Every feeling you have, replaced with something new. Something shinier, maybe. Hopefully, maybe.
Surrounded by bad music and tourists in scarves and fanny packs, I can barely speak to them today. My thoughts have been temporarily lodged in four hours a night ago. Hours passed between then and now. All I think is those four. It's strange.
How one phone call can ruin a night, a week, the rest of your life. How laughter sounds a lot like choked sobs, sometimes.
One phrase. And the best day is now the worst, is now the one day you'll dread. It could be your moment of clarity, except all you figured out is that you've been tricked again. That Life, that sadistic bitch, has led you on. She has poked and prodded you and given you false hope. She's got a loaded gun to your head and a smile that could kill you first. So ironic, in a sense.
How you can be planning your dying mother's funeral one day and burying your son the next.
They say that you should live each day to its fullest. That it can disappear before you have time for it to flash before your eyes. So what happens if your life disappears before you die? If it's flashing before your eyes and you don't have control over any of it, over anything?
Blink. It's already gone.
This is depressing. But my brain and my heart are elsewhere, hours away, with the person I'm closest to and his son. 19. Dead. It only takes a second and everything you thought you knew about your life is a mushroom cloud in the distance. Is cold and stiff. Etched marble and a prayer in place of a future.
Life, you whore.
Surrounded by bad music and tourists in scarves and fanny packs, I can barely speak to them today. My thoughts have been temporarily lodged in four hours a night ago. Hours passed between then and now. All I think is those four. It's strange.
How one phone call can ruin a night, a week, the rest of your life. How laughter sounds a lot like choked sobs, sometimes.
One phrase. And the best day is now the worst, is now the one day you'll dread. It could be your moment of clarity, except all you figured out is that you've been tricked again. That Life, that sadistic bitch, has led you on. She has poked and prodded you and given you false hope. She's got a loaded gun to your head and a smile that could kill you first. So ironic, in a sense.
How you can be planning your dying mother's funeral one day and burying your son the next.
They say that you should live each day to its fullest. That it can disappear before you have time for it to flash before your eyes. So what happens if your life disappears before you die? If it's flashing before your eyes and you don't have control over any of it, over anything?
Blink. It's already gone.
This is depressing. But my brain and my heart are elsewhere, hours away, with the person I'm closest to and his son. 19. Dead. It only takes a second and everything you thought you knew about your life is a mushroom cloud in the distance. Is cold and stiff. Etched marble and a prayer in place of a future.
Life, you whore.
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