So I haven't wrote anything in awhile.

I'm living here in Hermiston. Again. Working at DQ. Again.
buuuuut. I got hired at Fuddrucker's so I should be having an amazing job, come June of course.

Chemically. I feel very balanced. Very numb, very less motivated, but must I say- a better person. I'm 21 now. I just fucking hate alchohol. I didn't do anything for the grand day- and I have yet to succumb to the drunken dance of the devil. Humph. I'm just stuck. Stuck in time, in place. Working. All the time. No money to show for it. All I do is spend my money on weed. But I'm glad. Fuck it. Fuck being sad. and stressed. I'm so tired of living, it's ridiculous. But onward I must trek- smoking gravities as I go, because that my friends, is the only way.

I'm watching Roseanne. My god. That show was my life. IS my childhood in episodic form. I love it. Season 9 does not exist, but by golly, my favorite for always.

I'll try to post more. but it doesn't really matter. It just makes me feel better.

Rift Monger

It's been forever, and then some. But what can I say? shit just keeps a happening. I finally relocated to a fabulous lower apartment on 18th, its close to campus and the mecca of college parties, so I feel more comforted by the slew of obnoxiousness that fills the night life. I don't feel depressed anymore. Yay. My chemicals have finally found balance, yang damnit, but I still feel so lonely.
Lonely.


Lonely.


. All Alone .
It fucking sucks. I just need another soul to entwine with. to capture moments with. to share breaths with. Must I suffer the fates of the turning worlds alone? I miss the past. Who doesn't tho, really? Cher puts it best, she always does, and if I could turn back time, man, there would be a whole mess of shit to fix. But that's another story. I'm just gonna keep working at Wetzel's Pretzels, daydreaming of being with my old love, my man, my Travis. But deep down I know we will never love again. Ugh. Fuck that. Fuck. that.
that's what hurts the most. trying to fight the truth. Ignore what's really going on, get high, and pretend of a life past. It's what I do best. I just need a man.

ANYONE.

work is so... messy.
Drama! I really really really despise people talking shit. But as long as people have both anus' and mouths shit is just gonna be a flying outta both ends. I'm just gonna sit back and let this snuff film commence, because no longer will I be the topic of such indiscretions!

I'm currently tired of all things; Working. People. Money. Drugs. Going to the bathroom. Time. Existing. The basics, basically.

I just had this horrifying dream- something happened, like always, but basically the gist was Travis & his loving family burned to death and I had only one last picture of him that was taken right before the fire- It kept flashing it in repetitive, somewhat metaphorical, annoyance. Symbolic, huh? A little too symbolic brain! God.... give my R.E.M. status a break!

Well fugger. I gots to go to work now. Ugh. That's all I do these days. No one ever talks to me. No one ever says they love me. No one really cares about me.
Guess what? I
Don't
Care.

raise me higher, by 25 cents actually-

"Watchin' the Wheels" is the melody for my August. I miss you John. I never knew you, but I miss you.

Going to the Flaming Lips concert in Redmond WA in like 5 days. Waaaaaaaaaaay excited. I haven't done something fun like this in such a long time- I can't even remember when. Currently I'm munching on a blueberry bagel, slathered in butter, my work attire getting rubdown of my greasy fingers. I open in about 10 minutes. Gah. At least I get off early.

Just kinda enjoying this malfeasance of still time. Everything is calm. Growing. I guess I'm excited for my future. I suppose I guess. I guess I suppose?
Work time my bitches. oh yes.

Il dit non avec la tête
Mais il dit oui avec le coeur
Il dit oui à ce qu'il aime
Il dit non au professeur
Il est debout...
On le questionne
Et tous les problèmes sont posés
Soudain le fou rire le prend
Et il efface tout
Les chiffres et les mots
Les dates et les noms
Les phrases et les pièges
Et malgré les menaces du maître
Sous les huées des enfants prodiges
Avec des craies de toutes les couleurs
Sur le tableau noir du malheur
Il dessine le visage du bonheur.

Le Cancre by Jacques Prevert (but with an accent over the first e)

I don't speak or read or write french. but I am a hopeless romantic.
this poem is neither romantic nor uplifting, but it's memory plays a deep role down in my heart.
I enjoy having days offa work. haha. DUH.
I also enjoy pretending to know french. and pretending I'm in love.
what to do, what to do, what to do with my precious time ? ? ?
Is it really that precious tho? I dunno anymore.

le petit amor. or something of the sorts.

About Time

Well. My computer got this nasty virus.
It was HELL.
A week without a computer, boredom insued naturally, but I surely did fix it (thanks Travy)- only problem is, I lost everything.
Wah. Wah. Waaaaaaaaaah.

All my pictures. My memories. My journals. My art. GAHHHH!!!!!!

anywaaaaays. It seems Raymond has indeed learned a fine lesson from this experience. Learn to back your shit up folks!!!

Hahaha. Today is going to be a good day. Travis Walker is coming to visit.
About Time.

I've been cleaning slash preparing for days! My eagerness is so overwhelming, I'm so anxious I may poop! I hope this brief, yet meaningful, meeting goes well. I've been working way too much and I could use not only the relaxation that comes with Travis Walker, but the simplicity of sitting in a moment with a friend- ah. Priceless.

I've been so lonely but liberated at the same time. I'm living the dream. Living the life. Living la vida loca. hahaha, Ricky Martin. . .

Somebody slap me- I can feel happiness a-knocking on my door.

Night Time

I sit around, and look to all my sides. I have nothing but "should have's" and "coulda's" knocking on my door. The disbelief starts at the tip of my head, where my thick ginger roots can feel the tingle of fate blowing air down my spine. It spreads like the plague, exponentially reaching my feet which are curled up inside applesauce style.
What could I have done differently?
What did I do wrong?
Life. Everything about the idea of that word gets me into a stupor of rage and fits- I don't comprehend anything anymore, I'm struggling to define my own rapture, but I just can't believe this is what it has become.
I need stability. A fresh outlook on a nihilistic approach. I wish I had someone to guide me, someone to show me the way. But I've been alone for so long now. I feel so old. Matured. Fermented.
I play the waiting game with such ease these days. I have no anger. Sit sit sit, wait wait wait. Give me a gold medal, because I have truly mastered this shit. I am just waiting for someone to rescue me. Something to alter my state of life as it is, change the foundation that I walk upon- uproot this carnivorous timeline of repetition & repetition. I am a deep sea fish without his freakish glowing ability and for some reason my boyance is off! I am floating to the surface, the light, and I am fucked. Goodbye underwater world, your darkness was comforting and numbing. To the shallow waters I'm destined to be, and perish shall I when the tide sinks low.
I am parched beyond all belief. Thirsty.
So many questions running around in my head- in schizophrenic circles, scattergories of sorts. I love how a plant can give you the willpower to live, but a silly boy is destined to break your heart. Funny how things work.
As the crow flies, as the crow flies
.

I had a really intense dream. But I am sleeping on a throne now, so I quickly turned over and fell right back asleep.
No. That was a lie. I was immediately wide awake. 7 am. oh yeah.
I finally got my food stamps. Praise Ra Oregon has food stamps! I walked to the store whilst crying memories of a bicycle in my freshly sober brain. Pondering how I am going to get to places these days. ?
Tomorrow is payday, but the money is already destined for bills. Ah. The American Dream.

"Sometimes I wonder if you mythologize me like I do you." - Kevin Barnes

I've been healing these days with music. Nothing like the soothing sounds of the nether to ache the loneliness and depression you withhold. They speak stories and experiences you can only begin to comprehend. I like to become all unraveled, naked, exposed- vulnerable. I like to feel.
Animal Collective- Did you see the words?
Of Montreal- The past is a grotesque animal
The Dodos- Winter
Modest Mouse- Everywhere and his Nasty Parlor Tricks (entire ep)

Why I love being me.

Let's See...
What part of the last 24 hours sucked?
I. Pamela gets arrested and is facing felony charges.
II. Pamela takes 12 pills and OD's and has to go to the hospital.
III. My family all accusing me of "verbally assaulting" my mother, "begging for money" and that I need to "take responsibility of my life."
IV. The constant reminder that my boyfriend dumped me.
V. I have no food. No Money. No phone. & No weed to medicate me.
VI. My bike gets stolen.
*Did I mention Pamela was my mother? Nah? Well. She is.

Fuck. You. Everything.

But I think I got promoted at work. ? ? ?

God Damn. I feel so....
embarrassed.

& there is nothing I can really do about that.
&& it's only because I miss Travis so.
&&& I don't know what to do anymore.

I keep making a damn fool of meself. Obsessive, needy, borderline stalking... but its all in the name of love. So that makes it dig ya?
why haven't they invented teleportation?! fuck the scientists of the world!

I miss the days of being happy. I just want to be able to stop crying, and man, that is so weak.
Travis Blair Walker. Won't you care today?