katherine louise

Sat, 28 Oct 2006 11:23:15 GMT

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.

Tue, 03 Oct 2006 23:46:24 GMT

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.

Wed, 20 Sep 2006 04:22:15 GMT

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.

Wed, 06 Sep 2006 15:40:43 GMT

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.)

Wed, 06 Sep 2006 15:31:48 GMT

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.

Fri, 01 Sep 2006 20:32:02 GMT

what are you reading right now?

Thu, 31 Aug 2006 18:20:26 GMT

the imagery is starting to fade into a story that's even harder to believe than it was when it happened, and i am thankful for this. our bedroom is dark and humid and smells of rat piss and decay. we've migrated into his sister's room because she doesn't sleep at home anymore, sharing a single red comforter and a pillow made out of hot material; we sleep naked and our cat curls about our heads, not minding the change of scenery.

we spent the day at the beach yesterday; went to huguenot and walked down, past the kite skiers and hot dogs stands, dogs and kids with their bellies hanging out of their swimsuits. we roll up our pants and walk through the tide pools, picking up shells for jewelery. we walk back to the truck, hang out on the tailgate with jim morrison and friends.

at five thirty, we decide to go to our favorite spot fifteen minutes away: blackrock park where the tide is way out. i hang my pants on a piece of driftwood and we start walking again, through the snakes of sandstorms and broken wood, gigantic ugly shells of some sea creature long gone that we can't name. we walked until the beach ended in marshlands, the smell of heat and recycled life. we fucked in the sand, off the beach and beside the tall green marshy grass. afterwards, we walked back the way we came, holding hands and dreaming in future tense. we agree that marriage together doesn't sound so scary - that we talk like this instinctively, never even thinking to stop and correct ourselves.

it has been nearly a week since everything has happened, and colors are already much brighter. all of my tangible memories are gone, but i'm ten times stronger.

Mon, 28 Aug 2006 15:58:55 GMT

even now, i'm still not entirely sure how all of this got so bad. in just a matter of days i feel years older than i did before. i can't comprehend how so much evil can live inside of a single human being. i never believed that i would witness it. but then, we never think that these things can actually happen to us until they already have.

on friday night, we took red dawn and rolled on into the morning, holding each other on a fold out couch in some stark white living room in the heart of riverside. his voice was so small in the dark, tiny and scared. we were safe then, safe and miles away from the house and everything that had happened and the night was quiet, knowing everything.

i remember his silohuette in the doorway of the bedroom, he'd gone outside to get sick. his hand on the doorframe, for a minute there, i thought i was dead. that's when the trip began, that's when everything started to come back. that's when our minds were the most clear, and that's when i started to cry.

this neighborhood is a ghost, knowing all the secrets we swear we won't tell.

Fri, 25 Aug 2006 16:32:02 GMT

last night, last straw.

his mom's boyfriend destroyed our room last night. my computer is gone (all of my photographs, college essays, poetry, everything everything fucking everything that i hold dear). all of my cds are either scratched or broken in piles, my camera is gone, my paper journals in a mess on the floor, television smashed, stereo kicked in, door thrown across the room, a chair stuck in the wall by the legs, holes everywhere, rat piss all over the floor and penelope missing, a broken cage, rifles missing or else thrown out in the yard, shards of random broken glass, bed frame solid and heavy as a rock, mattress bent in distress, bloody knots behind my lover's ears. most all of our bongs and other glass pieces survived, as well as my acoustic guitar. i've never felt so violated in all my life. i haven't even been able to cry yet. all i feel is this empty hole in me where a vision of the perfect life used to be. everything begins where everything ends, and vice versa.

but, i'm going to sleep now.

Thu, 24 Aug 2006 13:01:56 GMT

i'm off work and drinking a beer at seven fifty in the morning. someone forgot to turn off the television hours ago, abandoned cartoons. the dog is whining and the cats are scrambling. my nose is running and my feet are sore.

a fight was taking place when i walked in the door tonight, and i averted my eyes to my work to show that i wanted no part in this, i'm minding my own damn business. the cops showed up when guns were pulled, and the district manager who told me to take my lip ring out when, if ever, i get transfered to second shift. thanks, asshole. i think the metal in my lip is the least of your problems right now. anyway, the gun belonged to a drunken customer trying to stick up for a bitch faced girl who thankfully works a different shift than i do; he was waiting for the other party involved in the fight to come outside to pull the gun on him. he didn't have a permit for the gun and i watched from the window as he struggled against handcuffs, fumbled with change and five dollar bills amongst the excitement of seeing this all happen in realtime.

i keep track of the days by number now, not by name.

and, lastly, the car of my dreamy dream dreams ?

Tue, 22 Aug 2006 22:47:52 GMT

happy birthday, beautiful.

Fri, 18 Aug 2006 05:19:02 GMT

my cat is my best friend.

Tue, 08 Aug 2006 18:15:06 GMT

alright, so i probably have a really shitty job in all reality, but at least the people i work with are pleasant; we have pleasant conversation and i feel comfortable sitting back and drawing or writing in my little green notebook during the quieter hours of the morning. smoke breaks aren't a problem, and the coffee is free as long as you have your own cup. i'm getting paid $7.50 an hour, which isn't terrible at all considering i'll have at least sixty hours clocked into my first paycheck (including three days of training), which will go towards a car. i can picture myself driving a little red 70's bug, coming home and parking it in the grass, liking the fact that it's tiny and doesn't take up much space. i'm nervous, however, about purchasing a car that i can't drive because i've never learned to drive stick shift, but i think that this might be initiative enough to learn. i'm maybe a fifth done with my life; it's about time i learn manual transmission.

i would be asleep now, but i have all the time in the world to sleep tomorrow, and this is the first light of two o'clock in the afternoon that i've seen in a while and i'm kind of enjoying it a lot.

for a good time, call 904-879-8012. i promise you won't regret it.
(no really. call it and see!)

Mon, 07 Aug 2006 23:17:25 GMT

i feel extremely disconnected from everything. tomorrow night is my first night off in a week and i plan to get fucked up out of my mind. i'm working forty-eight hours a week on the graveyard shift at the truck stop on pritchard, drinking wild cherry slushies and collecting canker sores, and sexual advances from dirty men and even dirtier boys who think they're men.

"do you love him?"

it's really easy to cry lately and i'm not sure why.

Sun, 30 Jul 2006 20:14:17 GMT

Fri, 28 Jul 2006 18:30:56 GMT

naptime, yesterday afternoon

alright, i admit it. lately i have a one-track photographic mind.
and by lately, i mean, look at that smile!

Sun, 23 Jul 2006 18:24:12 GMT

Wed, 12 Jul 2006 19:38:56 GMT

last night we sat around watching the doors for the millionth time, smoking out of the bubbler and laughing at ourselves through pam and jim - that's you! when she's puking all over him in the desert. that's you! when she gets pissed that he's taken some acid, that people are coming over, jim, and you're going to peak before me! that's you! when she's going down on him in the studio; he's drunk and singing about how it's getting harder now, his head all flung back.

our days are filled with video games and really strong rum that makes me wish i'd let my stomach go the night before.

Mon, 03 Jul 2006 05:48:50 GMT

i have a new paper journal that his grandmother bought for me, and until the other night i'd forgotten what poetry was. i was drunk and brooke was over and i just sat there next to her scribbling out nonsense until my hand cramped up and it was physically impossible to write anymore. i fucking love when that happens. i lie back and sigh, let the waves rush over me.

i woke up yesterday morning to a glass of shroom tea and he kept lighting my bathrobe on fire to watch the fire trails up the sleeves and it freaked me out. there was an early fourth of july bonfire last night in the middle of a big field (where he and a bunch of friends picked the mushrooms), property of a friend, and the fire department (which was facing the field!) came and put it out because a local complained. we came back to the house and had a fire in the yard instead. i sat on the edge of the bed of his truck and drank rum and red gatorade and watched the heat move about around us. we had sex for the third time that day and promptly fell asleep afterwards, woke up around three o'clock this afternoon in each others' arms.

i am okay - i'm always okay. we fight over stupid shit mostly, and mostly because we're both still not working yet and bored out of our minds, my car still needs a new engine, and what else is there to do but beat each other up? we're both stubborn as all hell and sometimes we look at each other like, what the shit just came out of your mouth? but jesus fucking christ, we are in love.

Fri, 16 Jun 2006 22:19:38 GMT

i've never seen so many kids at once run to an ice cream truck, except maybe in movies, or maybe in my dreams.

"i don't sleep half as well as when you're lying next to me."
(click of this throat to say he doesn't know what to say.)

but i know you know what i mean.

Mon, 05 Jun 2006 22:32:27 GMT

today, i watched while an old woman saw her husband for the last time. all i know is, there had better be a heaven of some sort, some place for them to meet again and touch souls. all the while, i squeezed bobby's hand tighter and tighter until the tears came and despite one night when we were drunk, i have never seen him cry. his body curled up into sobbing convulsions into his mother's arms and i left them to themselves, went outside and smoked a cigarette down past the line. he wore sunglasses for the rest of the afternoon.

Thu, 01 Jun 2006 01:47:45 GMT

03/25/06

Wed, 31 May 2006 17:45:31 GMT

fuck you,
high and mighty
tomorrow will come
and so will you
by yourself
can we save this
for another day,
some other day when
i'm not bleeding between
the legs, alter ego
submit when artillery
strikes your eardrums
and you can't hear me
you don't even look twice
you look ahead
i look small
you look bigger than before
tell me to eat some pie
curves my appetite back
to that tiny room and
i'll smoke my cigarettes against
your unwritten law and i'll
burp the loudest
say goodnight without words
just a turn on my heel
click of door
to wooden frame
click of masturbation
to fingers
what he can't have
what i give freely to another
much better suited
little masochist
caving in
spilling her tales
all over
dining room table
lust
forget to close walls
back to where they
were before
perfect came running in
got a handful of crimes
to feed keep cool
beast sunning
beneath a tree
or several
whatever you feel
take the wheel
so i can fuck up
my perception of you
i can fuck up
run holes in your jeans
because my legs are shorter
than yours
know how to wrap
one giant sex burrito

eat the fuck up.

Tue, 30 May 2006 20:10:09 GMT

i've got barbque sauce on my jeans and i refuse to wash them until i've worn them for at least another three days.

IF THE SUN TAKES YOU, THEN I HOPE IT TAKES ME TOO

Thu, 04 May 2006 01:07:50 GMT

it was late afternoon when he got us off our asses and claimed we were going to the beach. we hold hands in the heat and i can't tell whose palms are sweating, his or mine.

i entertain his mind with the idea of moving to california. after a couple days of consideration, after telling me no way in hell he would want to live anywhere but here (!!??!), we agree to save our money. it wouldn't be so bad to live somewhere else for a while, right? we have our entire lives.

as long as we're near the ocean, as long as the road doesn't end.

and then there's the mediterranean sea, and how much i like the idea of being naked with him in public.