Keep your mouth open.

Little moments within the month let me know that I’ve made no progress when it makes my heart stop to think of how painfully cool I think you are.  What a terrible curse to place upon someone so unwitting and earnest.  Not that I’m a saint, but I have been carried around on a velvet pillow in more than your mind, and it makes us so much worse.  Sadder and completely losing it.

When I’m finally going inside these places I long heard of I feel ten thousand steps before you and ten times luckier than that.  When I’m cooed to sleep by something different each night I feel a million times better.  I long to be unable to go back to that place.  I just want to feel different.  Stop talking to me/Never leave me.

The unbearable lightness of peeing.

I'm real scared of my whole life right now.  I guess it's normal.  I don't like all this weather because it's making everyone's skin dry. Lucky for me, and everyone I know, I'm a lotion addict.  I know everything there is to know about Bath & Body Works.  I probably have over 200 dollars worth of lotions.  Not that full price was paid for all of them, since they have sales and all. 

What if … oh, what I was going to say was real unfunny so I'm just going to not say anything. 

Jesse mailed me, for my birthday, some flip flops, an ashtray, Twizzlers chapstick and a card that mentions the Poop Police.  Nobody knows me better.  

 

I babysat tonight and got lots of kisses.  I just want to be taken care of.

Paralyzed by life.  I wish I weren't American?  Well, I'm not completely American to begin with.  Let's wipe out my other half.

Except I like Kings Mountain…

Bunney is really stupid.  She has a sticker stuck in her tail and she's trying to put her whole fluffy body into a little blue box that's laying on it's side on the floor. 

Blank Frank is the siren, he’s the air-raid, he’s the crater. He’s on the menu, on the table, he’s the knife and he’s the waiter.

I haven’t been here in a while. It’s a lot to keep up with. A Lot To Keep Up With seems to be a theme in my life as of late. More ideas than something substantial but it’s mind-boggling and, for lack of a better word, retarded. In my head there’s a little nest woven with shreds of what I dream my life to be. I live in there, for the most part, and don’t think of how a car could run into me (because that could only happen to someone else), or I could overdraft my bank account (because I’m the type to never check it), or how my cat could completely die or escape me (impossible). I’m the cloudiest person you’ll meet. Stormy and swishy and silly and stupid and sleepy. The sound of the nest is something very layered and dense and pretty.

I’m not a liar. I spent my Tuesday afternoon hurriedly browsing dead bodies, flayed muscles brains bones lungs nerves skin and veins. Instead of the general scientific notion of ooh-ing and ahh-ing and getting nervous jitters about my own and everyone else in the room’s mortality, I was coasting from the comfort of my nest in a beach chair. I knew I had a crowded commute. I knew I had a plane to catch. I knew I had a heart to sort. I knew I had some Tetris to play. I knew I wanted to throw up (but didn’t really want to). Still I always wonder, what if everything I say is a lie? I say things and completely don’t feel them the second after I say them. These aren’t things that worm into other people, at least not in a hurtful way. It’s all these personal things and preferences. I don’t believe myself. I fib against what could be my best interests.

I never left my nest the entire time. No matter how many had stood in the spot before me. No matter how smokey my hair got. No matter how many eyelashes I rubbed mascara off of. No matter how less jealous I could feel. No matter how unserious and laid-back (hands-behind-head) I secretly felt. No matter how many hours it took to feel disgusting. No matter how many times I sparkled and charmed. I’m not lying tonight – maybe ever – I’m just not really all there. I don’t know if I hear you. I’m in the nest. In the nest it’s all cornbread and mountain roads and beds and pretty girls and Roy Orbison and 7th grade airboat rides and my first quick kiss and where are we again? My view comes back into focus and I’m smiling but I’m still listening to the Cure and wishing I knew how to smoke pot better.

I’m late on my way to everything and I realize there are consequences, usually extreme, but I’ve always had a shrugging quality about myself when it comes to consequences. I lost my wallet? Guess I’ll have to deal with it. I missed my plane? I’ll have to catch another one. Nobody loves me anymore? Shuffle along and make new. But none of it happened. Some of it still will happen. Someone understands my nest. Someone is doubled over and wants to add a shred of life to weave into my nest.
***
My favorite phrase right now regarding life is how it’s mainly a constant series of “putting out little fires here and there.”

My boyfriend would like to beat the shit out of me for the music I can’t stop listening to.

Everything is perfectly fine otherwise. It’s Dustin’s birthday. There are cookies and a cake and a big ole lasagna at my house. Everyone’s invited over. Not really. Dustin is twenty. Now my parents have two kids in their twenties who are huge losers still living at home. Ask me how I really feel.

I just finished watching season three of Home Movies. It was really weird. Different than the first two. There was something a little off about it, as if they got new writers or something. Some of the episodes made me a little uncomfortable. I really can’t explain why or how. It was still a funny season, just weird. Like weird balls.

I’m excited to see Lost after how much Antal hyped it up. I like having a show to immerse myself in since I have no Six Feet Under or Gilmore Girls left. And plus then I won’t have to hang out with anyone. If I don’t hang out, nothing gets weird and I don’t want to choke every living, breathing creature around me. Ask me how I really feel.I need out.

Maybe this will get me writing more.

New blog! Yay! I’ve been sick the past few days and also irrationally angry and messy and my eyes hurt from watching, and then falling asleep to, Pink Panther cartoons. Right now I’m making an amazing lasagna and I’m not even that hungry, although I haven’t eaten today.

Bunney is still asleep under my comforter and I wish I were kitty-sized and snuggled up to her under there. Sigh.