Tuesday, April 26, 2016

this family has known from day one that I didn't belong here. why not own it and go full creature ?

the others send me no smoking signs. the phone getting stolen was big. here another, the whole pack of smokes I lost was found, returned, I was joyous until I found them all broken and wet and it's just like me and how much does it take for me to know a metaphor? 

how I find it so hard to speak in this language. how nothing nothing nothing makes sense. 

Thursday, April 21, 2016

we like shapes in the night

we drank half a 30 rack and we smoked more than half a pack of cigarettes between the liquor store walk at 10pm and the sun coming up at 7am before we crashed to the mattress on the floor and took our clothes off, for the second time, i think?
we sat on the bench where we'd been painting boards for the bedroom trim and i was wallowing and you held me and told me you wanted to help and nuzzled my head until our lips found each other. 
(what was the moment in which this became inevitable? the last beer, or the first? meeting eyes in the kitchen and feeling seen? the night you don't remember, when i tickled you to capture your nonexistent keys?)
i don't remember what came next. chainsmoking and natty bo in my unfinished new room, top floor of middle house, sitting on the roof to watch dawn creep over the highway, wearing only jeans and a hoodie. i don't remember when my shirt came off.
we were too many beers in to be doing what we did. we crashed to the mattress on the floor tangled tickling kissing and i fell into a dream, walking to a job interview at the neighborhood grocery. to apply i had to get fingered. your hard soft body naked on top of mine, the sweetness of skin on skin, how we ache for this dance. suddenly your soft hard cock inside. i wanted it but i hadn't said so, i wasn't ready and no protection. (you're lovely but i don't want your babies or infections.) what is wrong with me that i can't stop, can't say anything? why has this become my pattern? caught in drunken jumbles, wanting without knowing why, not having the courage to speak.

they have said: cmon. please. you're nothing special. just hold still. shhh.
and they have said nothing as they put themselves inside me.
and they have said how much they missed me, how they love my squishy body, i'm not like the other girls, i'm good enough, i deserve it.

my heart races to write it. as much as i'm disgusted and furious with myself, i'm still turned on. and i want and i want and i want and i like you but i don't like our culture. i don't like the roles we're playing or the confused consent. i want to break myself apart to see how my sexuality was formed around my passiveness and i want to start over.

Monday, April 11, 2016

​i admire people who are doing things all the time. i am jealous of people accomplishing a lot.
i need to plan my week better, set goals for the days ahead. it's helping a little to have the day before planned out, but i'm still not getting enough done. filling the time with the tasks and all that.
i need to dream bigger although i'm not sure what that looks like.
and it's hard right now, being unemployed. i feel useless! like i have all this time and i'm just wasting it or worrying it away over someone else's agenda. THAT SUCKS.

katherine just sent me an idea to make reenactment videos to start promoting concrete again. i read the idea and my first thought was "what will brett think?"
how warped has my brain gotten that i can't make up my own mind?
and just today i was reading an old chat conversation i was having with tom about how arrogant and controlling brett was on set, and in general.
and another conversation where katherine and i were miserable, wracking our brains to figure out what the hell the story even meant, and what were we saying, and how did we do this to ourselves.
i need to think more before i say yes to katherine's idea, but i mean. why not? we've done all this other mess. and i was literally just sitting here feeling sad that i'm not producing anything.