i heard your voice through a photograph, i brought it up - brought up the past - once you know you can never go back

"no, it's like self deprecation day or something, trust me, everyone will love it."
backwards it's just nettogrof and my favorite time of day plus a song i never really listen to on repeat enough plus a sense of KNOWING where the next turn goes. i will give you this much because you both hold your heads high in moments of GNIWONK

she wanted to piece this together for you - she thought it'd be easier to slip you up.

the theme.

the way it goes.

the cliffnotes/easy way out.

i'm not quite finished with this journal but i'm retiring it, burying it under a pile of brightly colored spiral bound ones i covered in stickers and wrote in back in the Middle School era when Rat Boy, 8th Graders, Samantha-Ponce-and-Her-Fakely-Accused-Abusive-Father^{(Co-Starring The Competing Rack)}, Grampa Boots And Mermaid Adventures plus My First Kiss _{(From An Abercrombie&Fitch Kid's Model and Capri Sun Commercial Star!)} reigned supreme in my mind and things like REAL LIFE were a bright and sunny distant dream that perhaps consisted of flashing lights or a hawk on the shoulder and camera still attached at the hip but knowledge expanding daily. You know. caring about more. then there was the pen in hand, the politics on the mind, the songs on the tongue, scripts repeating in dreams - and that pesky bi-colored ball passed backforth-back-forth-back-FORTH! each night between cleated (clotted? cleat clot? hee!) feet and a whistled blown as miniature version of my friends and myself would scoop up the toy and set off on a sprint, breaking all rules but creating great stories to share as yellow and black clustered together under hazy lights waiting for the caravan of mini-vans to pile in and send us back en-route to suburbia to get ready to start it all over tomorrow. while digging through shelves upon shelves of what I Was Never Allowed To Go Near - apparently i'll never be a big girl, grow up, learn on my own? raise your hand up, i'm showing sass, aren't i? oh fuck off, my attitude should be the least of your worries and you are the littlest of men i'd like to maim (said with the most tempestuous of growls) - i saw a small, deflated ball in the corner and stared for a moment, wishing i could steal everyone from college or work or new married lives or devout religious promises - or sudden frisbee obsession - and call together a game. then something sharp and metallic sliced along my middle finger and instead of taking joy in the irony i screamed only to hear myself echo.


"but hasn't that whole shtick gotten old? . . . oh, yea, i mean, i guess if it isn't really . . . well, i didn't know you weren't trying."


^{lcd soundsystem - someone great
ben folds - evaporated
carla bruni - Le ciel dans une chambre
neil young - the needle & the damage done}

half of the time we're gone and we don't know where, and we don't know here.


s:what's that?
h:she's just avoiding The Outright Truth
s:weird way to do it, eh?
h:why would you tell her what you think she wants to hear?



the irony of this photo is astounding.