[28 Oct 2006|07:20am] he broke my heart and i moved out that night. i plan to break his tenfold with a really terrible letter because i'm traditional that way, and he's no exception to the rules. i think about all of the things i shouldn't, but i guess that's part of the process. i'm going to start a new journal. if you want, please follow me. i miss this place and i'm starting to realize things that loving him made me blind to. ps. i might be moving to san fransisco. 11 post

[03 Oct 2006|07:30pm] oh, man. everything. i've never liked a girl named ashley so much in my entire life. she is sunshine and little floppy fisherman hats and curly wigs and thick rimmed glasses and funny faces. i sold her coffee one day and i think we must have fallen in love again from some past life because this girl is crazylike and she takes beautiful photographs and writes all she knows in big thick journals, and i think i've maybe found my place in this big empty town again. i'm still living in the country with the cockroaches and hairballs, stepping on a nonexistent floor to get to the bed. i love him, he's my soul, but i'm not happy anymore living in that house. he gets angry and regrets it and comes back and apologizes; he's about to lose his mom to the asshole that tried his hardest to ruin our lives, she's going to marry him now, and it's making him crazy, he doesn't want to hurt me. we had sex this evening in the woods, pine needles making harsh prints on our bending knees, mosquitos biting our thighs but we don't care. i'm still a little drunk and i have to go back to work in two hours, back to long uncomfortable glances from divorced truckers. but she'll be visiting me around three, on time as always. post

[19 Sep 2006|11:49pm] the other night, i bought a computer for thirty bucks off of an old hippie couple that came into the gas station looking to sell a bunch of stuff to get the money to make it home down south. the screen has a permanent green tint to it because the buttons on the moniter don't work properly, but i don't really care. i like my new battered toy. the keyboard has stains and i have to use a screwdriver to punch the comma key. so, hi again. 1 post

[06 Sep 2006|11:35am] i don't take this very seriously anymore, and i feel kind of guilty but i think it half -has to do with the overall forced acceptance into having to let all of my private something or others go when my laptop got wrapped up in the chaos of the street. on paper, i don't have to worry because it's like no one can touch that, it will always be with me wherever i go like my favorite pair of limegreen corduroys that i wear for days, wash, and then put back on again. it's like trying to take away my skin; you'll have to kill me first. (it gives me confidence.) 2 post

[06 Sep 2006|11:17am] this is my life now; evenings on the porch across the street smoking cigarettes with his granny and having the same conversations, just in different words, how strange and calm everything is now, but still so painful. there are arguments and accusations still, hidden truths coming lose, but that was a couple nights ago when i hopped on the back of his motorcycle out in the yard, the whole of us gathered around, the previous night's makeup running down my cheeks and everyone speaking in cracked voices. recovery now, drinking milkless tea and talking about books. i just finished with two whole nights off work and each morning i wake up at six thirty and can't go back to sleep until maybe about noon, or one; even by the lull of his breathing i get self-conscious that my allergies are going to interrupt his beauty so i escape to the living room with the cats jumping and scratching around at their favorite and most alive part of the day, and read my new literature. thank you for your reading recommendations, by the way. i picked up the thickest of keroac (desolation angels) that i could find at barnes & noble the other night before work and finally words are swimming around again; he's just the drug i need. i read on the road some two years ago in virginia and i wish i could find it, i'd read it again in a heartbeat, so i don't feel so guilty over devouring this one so fast. it seems i get a new paper journal every couple months or so, without ever finishing the last. i start fresh again today because i kind of feel reborn in a way that i can't ignore. post

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