Saturday, November 8, 2014

good memories

sitting in a fast-food restaurant in montreal with dim gray lighting, the light-up signs with pictures of poutine and onion rings were yellowed and humming. it was last march, I was with laura and lauren. we probably smelled like cigarettes, waiting for a mac demarco show going on down the street. I don't remember them selling anything other than onion rings and poutine and when I ordered onion rings the man at the counter yelled, "des rondells!!!!" I asked for what I thought was a napkin in french and he gave me a plate. We laughed a lot and drank big cans of beer out of plastic bags (the drinking age in montreal is 18), the kind that said "thank you!" written on it. someone yelled at us hey you can't drink beer in here, so we went to the bathroom and drank them over the sink, laughing, foam rolling down our chins.

being 13, probably, and driving with my mom, dad and stephen to the outer banks. Once every few years or so we would pack our station wagon and leave early in the morning, while everything was still quiet and empty, weirdly suspended in time. we would watch the world buzz to life through our car windows (smudged with fingerprints) with each passing hour as we drove southward. We stopped at a place called "elvis's diner" and I ordered french fries and ate them out of a baby-blue box in the shape of a vintage car, feeling a sugary swallow of sprite burn in the back of my throat.

coming down from an acid trip on a warm day last july, me laura lauren hayden wyatt. wyatt and I really liked each other at the time I think, we had sex a lot and would spend a lot of time in each other's beds listening to music and reading. comics usually, and lots of ariel pink and psychedelic-type stuff. wyatt was wearing a hat that day that said "marco's italian coldcuts" and he's six-foot-four with thick eyebrows and a mop of dark curly hair and sometimes he would deliberately brush his hand on my arm or something and it would make the little hairs on my back stand up. anyway on that day in july we all took our bikes down to the old north end (wyatt was skateboarding actually), at that perfect time of day right before sunset when it's still warm and everything is dark but glowing red a little bit and you can see people starting to turn on the lights in their houses. people were sitting on their porches and smoking cigarettes. we went down battery street and cruised downhill through a cemetery and we could hear the clicking of our bike chains echoing off gravestones. we reached the end of the cemetery where it overlooks the lake and the adirondack mountains (I think it's the adirondack mountains). the sun was still setting and the sky was pink and blue. I was still tripping a little bit and the clouds sort of looked like what you'd see in a nintendo video game. I drew lots of little suns on my knee with a black pen. I had brought a bag of chalk and everyone took some and drew on the paved path that weaved through the cemetery. lots of green swirls, pink cartoon faces.

Friday, May 30, 2014

oh my god I'm so happy and I have so much summer ahead of me! i'm going to hang out with friends every day and dance around and drink sangria on our porch and play with our cats and meet new people and go to parties and smoke weed in the morning and make vegan food and go on adventures!

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

I've started shoplifting underwear from the place where I work. I don't know why I'm doing this. I've taken 4 pairs so far.

I set up a hammock in my backyard today and read oscar wilde.

The other night me, marisa, atika and my cousin elizabeth all took the train into the city to go to an album release party. Nobody except for me knew how to work the subways so I carried around a big map and everybody followed me. We bought strawberritas and drank them with straws on someone's front stoop. Then it started to rain and we smoked weed out of my little bowl under someone's awning. We watched the thunder roll in from manhattan and laughed and took pictures and felt really good.

We were drunk by the time we got to the venue, and the x's on our hands washed off easily in the rain. We bought beers. It was humid inside and I saw a lot of faces that I recognized from tumblr which was weird. I spotted megan boyle and tao lin, two of my favorite writers, and they invited me outside to smoke a joint with them. I told them I was 19 and they told me they were 21 & 22 even though I think they're in their 30's. Being in your 30's  must be weird. I like being 19.

Frankie Cosmos was playing and she was lovely and adorable, she was wearing a striped shirt and had a little bun on the top of her head. I saw her afterwards and told her I loved her set. It was such a nice night.

Chris and I are talking on tumblr because I was lonely and messaged him yesterday. He said,"I'm sorry for being so horrible to you last year"

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Last night Natasha drove an hour or so out to see with me while I'm still home. We went to get burritos and drove to the beach and talked and smoked on a picnic table as we watched the sky darken over the sound. Smoke rolled out the windows as we drove to our nearby hookah lounge, Channel Orange playing somewhere in the background. Spending time with friends is important.

I'm still sad about Ryan and I feel like I have all this sadness but no way to express it, to get it out in the open. It's stuck inside me and I don't think I've been this unable to articulate in a very long time. It feels stupid to say, I'm so lonely for somebody. It's an awful longing that I'm not used to, and I really don't like it. It reminds me of a place I never wanted to be again, but here I am.

Friday, May 16, 2014

Chris came by my house last night and picked me up. We talked about college as we drove in the dark to get coffee.



Thursday, May 15, 2014

This is my last private place to share my thoughts.

I missed Ryan today, I cried, felt dumb about it.

I hate being home because Marisa's my only friend here.

I just end up spending a lot of time by myself wishing I were somewhere else. If I were in Vermont I would have places to go and people to meet and little private corners to hide in when I'm sad.

This isn't poetic. My posts haven't been poetic lately, I don't really care. Writing exactly how I feel about things is poetic in its own way. I don't know what I'm saying. I'm tired.

Sunday, April 27, 2014

I've been sitting in the library for about an hour reading about people's drug experiences online under the guise of productivity because I'm writing my final romanticism paper on confessions of an english opium-eater. 

I kind of had sex with a girl for the first time last night in a stranger's bathroom. The phrase "sexual debut" keeps on coming to mind.

it was fun and felt "right." I feel like for some people hooking up with a girl would be really weird and unnatural-feeling but it didn't feel that way for me at all

we were really drunk kept on asking each other "are you sure you're okay with this?" and we always answered affirmatively and really enthusiastically

 I slept in her bunk bed and kissed her cheek when I left this morning

I love how "soft" girls are, in terms of their disposition and their hair and skin

I feel like this adds some sort of "legitimacy" to my open-ended///indifferent sexuality even though I know experience doesn't determine that

I'm still sitting in the library but now all I want to do is sit outside on a sunny day and smoke opium and kiss more pretty girls

Monday, April 21, 2014


sometimes I wish I could hold your hand and show you music I’m excited about but you never apologized for ruining everything and I hate you

(I don't hate you)

Friday, April 18, 2014


smoked a bowl and ate 25mg vyvanse this morning with my cereal

been spending too much time alone

(I had a dream about ryan this morning)

Thursday, April 10, 2014



tell myself im fine because every morning I have an orange
round and bright like the sun
my glowing disposition

Saturday, April 5, 2014

I haven't written here in so long.

I currently have an increasing distrust and disappointment in the people of the world, but it's only making me more motivated to change things. I've been caring less about what people think and more about what people feel.

I've been sick all week. I've decided to quit smoking cigarettes if this is what bronchitis feels like.

I woke up this morning with tangled hair, in my underwear and the same shirt from last night. I miss having a boyfriend. This school sometimes feels like a sea of people.

Saturday, January 4, 2014

You can barely see my key tattoo anymore. I'm listening to a song that I just head for the first time yesterday and I have listened to it so many times in a row because I love it so much and I absolutely love when this happens. Ryan's coming tomorrow, I just smoked weed downstairs. He's going to kiss me from head to toe.
so I'm just thinking about the summer and how laura and i would lie in our beds and smoke weed with the windows open. our feet were dirty and our sheets were dirty but we didn't care and we hung our towels on the porch and drank wine from a box out of jars while we made dinner. Our summer boys slept over and told us we were beautiful, kissed our blushing necks. we smoked cigarettes on the roof and it made us feel alive and went upstairs to dance in the attic. the sun that poured in through our bare windows every morning was as warm as the blood that ebbed and flowed in our tired arms that pulsed just a little too quickly. low fidelity beach music curled over our heads, entangled in whisps of smoke.

call your office on the phone, tell them you're not coming home

beautiful

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