theres rain drops falling from your face that look like tears.

this week has been calm. a break was def needed. though i'm excited to get going again. i have so many idea and projects i want to start. good to have a flood of ambition once again. my news years resolution is to force my self to be productive in things i want to make happen, not just school. booooooooya.

whatever i touch, starts to melt in my touch, i am to much da doom doom doom

today me and terra had a snow ball fight on our way to class and saw a machine called ditch witch. year without a santa claus is on!

thomas-val you suck.

Maybe i don't accurately portray what i feel i am. i have so many ideas combined with little time and sparse motivation. i rarely create what i know i can prove. i rarely counter a failed attempt by another. instead i press the backspace button on every moment in my life; this creates red grading marks which are invisible to me and magnified to others. The mistake is that i write over the mistakes- making me forget them all together. the end of this paper cant come soon enough.

why is sarah jessica parker so weird looking in movies?

Christmas is coming. The leaves are falling rapidly. Ophelia's birthday is coming up. i ordered a check card with her picture on it last night. i should have ordered one with oph and terra- i'm equally obsessed.

the semester is almost over. its been a rough one. next semester will be less chaotic.

I'm trying to finish up some projects i've been working on but school is priority right now. the break will be nice.

tour key.

fur. lets do something with fur. bear with a sandwich and a candle.

lately.

what i've been working on lately.

october.

my favorite month of the year.
last week sac stormed feverishly and tore through the flesh of clean skin. i lost power for 2 days and formed a relationship with the language of candles. it was an experience that tested my patience with the dark. i came out frustrated and strained. my Ophelia stayed on me for those days as she normally does. a couple days later she came into heat, i sobbed like an infant. she's a woman now, yet i love her the same.
me and terra's 1 year is on Tuesday!!!!!!!!!!! her eyes make me ache.

she's europe and i live in her.

life is as expected; continually tripping over my own feet with the best intentions and the less than satisfactory outcome. I stumble, dancing on the blue block's squares. the future is.

ah shit.

another year at 15. thank god 20 is here.
I'm thankful.

v a g i n a

Oph apparently licked some kind of poison or got bit by something. She was drooling puddles and seas for two days straight. Scarred the shit out of me. Now for an easy weekend. School is busy and rapidly becoming a juggling act, but i'm enjoying it. I like my classes, cant wait to transfer.

My bday is approaching. To celebrate terra, the fam, and I are going to the renaissance fair. i'm beyond excited.

oph likes flannel,

jizz christopher kane.

the moon during the day

no one around me understands the love i have for:

cunts

those little girls who are not even worth thoughts amounting to a particle of dust on my brain are forever trying to accumulate through different people around me. Is it the fact that i think about you only when brought up? and never in between bother you? I've purposely become void of anything that has even walked by you people. does that satisfy your need to be relevant?

captain

refrain from self pity. you're to good for it.

pawn

the day I can truly feel as though i understand titles- i will cease happily.

i enjoy pms'ing with my lover and these sheets.

.

fragrant with humility

I have become the stuttering silent compliant door knob. the fuck rabbit without any defining momentum. the pity became rank. focus.

pronounce accounts

I had a great day with hope and abby yesterday. watched lost boys and george lopez.

oph is getting huge! school starts in a week or so, planing for spain, and portland. terra is more beautiful than ever.

How do you lose meaning in the noises coming out of your own mouth? the words are pronounced and then deflated- lost and unable to latch onto new words. and so i can not carry on a conversation with someone new without preparation- a draft. my temples make drafts and never finish them.

let the ringing begin, tomorrow.

"yea you should try it with one girl, yea, and then if you dont like it...cheat on her"- NYC prep

Lets hope im done with school by 22. thats my goal.

im reading Equus.

europe in january.

fill up the buckets

had lunch with abby today.

i feel drowsy. not myself. my eyelids want the feeling of exhaustion, so i can sleep for a couple days.

ERIN sits like a mantel fixture, glued to the wood as if the heat has molded it to her. she sits there plastered with fear and feeling of sainthood. her legs are spread from anticipation, someone wants her- statuette whore. ERIN stands up, walks away from the wooden chair and closer to the brick balcony.

ERIN

(quickly, silently)

fuck fuck fuck.

she lowers her head to floor, playing with her fingers violently

stops

ERIN

i am all there is.

funerals and frantic wind

This morning smells of pollen; thick and staggering. My room looks beautiful. The walls are catching light from the wind.
I wonder if my mind is more like a man's.
I wonder if I have any Greek in me.
I wonder if the Alvidrez family in Spain were ever diplomats.
The Hapsburgs should have never changed their name to Windsor.

































terra.

cream puffs, i'm going to miss her.

back from portland. she leaves at 2:00, my body aches.

here's a little bit of the trip.




color and homeless

The walls look like tales from old men's basements; bricked with their old photos and glazed wood wall fixtures. portland is beautiful. my mind hasn't attempted to hide in a closet once since i've been here.

have pictures when i get back.
i miss ophie.


terra you are so beautiful. i stare at you now, with your shirt rolled and your bangs chopped together from the humidity and sweat. whatever you're doing has nothing to do with me, yet my toes rest uncomfortably touching your computer. you will not push me away. i love you.

be back sunday.

oil glass

One more week of summer classes, she was intense- the work load huge. glad its almost over.

Terra leaves for tour on wed. i will miss her more than i have ever missed anyone. she's my comfort, my pillow. My silent acceptance of a crowed world. She lays in the bags of my eyelids, changing the colors of my thoughts and the vibrations i live in.

i worship her bones.

in other news,

ophelia is going to come into heat soon. she still crys when i leave her, she's not ready. im not to comfortable with idea of blood and humping going around the house when it has the face of my ophelia. i have to get her fixed asap.

concert tomorrow, wedding and show saturday, paper sunday, wed terra leaves.

i have yet to obtain a job. apparently im useless.

paitnted on the vanilla sky

watch the first 5 min of vanilla sky. radiohead with penelope cruz's voice. cinematic genius.

hunger got in ophelia's eyes

"she's(sara palin) even stimulated a few democrats out there!"; yea, with her mouth.

lily's dad is in Sacramento. the Florida native wears turtlenecks when he visits California. even his Nike new balance tennis shoes scream conservative.

I am almost done with my book on the tudor family. there is no point to which people say "eh, i suppose we dont need to go that far". the 14th century was a scary time.

i will watch micha tonight.

good day.

blue blue stop go

i'm at the hanger listening to terra sing her heart out. she is beautiful. who is this girl?

also my ophelia has grown to be a monster. i love her.

lemon pie

i've lost two dogs in two weeks. i've lost over a decade of love that was compiled into two smiling hairy explanation marks. Still, my ophelia looks at me from my bedroom door as if i am the only thing she has or wants to know.

i will dress like a man and glue a beard on today.

my thoughts are humid. Difficult to walk through let alone sit in.
progression awaits my eyelids.
my jaw is clenched for now.


i am hopeful.

pass[please]time[so]long

The spin twists in rebuttal. Lengthy sentences without consistent charm. I have the blind tendency to nervously sweep my thoughts to somewhere I am unable to find them when I am nervous. My social skills have subsided.
[with spite]
How is it possible for one to accept and live for the freedom of the US and still have no tolerance or acceptance for those who live just as they do?
[time leaves]
The conscious replies to the world’s importance in secular beliefs. Is it what we believe to be true that becomes our faith? Or is our faith a predisposition to the familiar? We are loyal to what we believe unless we leave our bodies in passiveness. I am faithful to what I know. But do I know anything? My thoughts flow in no order that can be respected as concrete. Yet the faith that belongs to me is tolerant of others whose faith is bound by beliefs that constitute who we as Americans are created to be- faithful without content of belief. People have faith, yet their conscious does not. They are queered by logic. They are blind as I, with the tendency to not acknowledge the obvious. We cannot have faith without first believing logic.
[parting]

she is grace

hello tents and gnome caves-

[ache]
[ache]


My back feels as though someone is pressing a corner of an encyclopedia against it.

[ache]
[ache]


My mom fell this morning as i slept; tripping on dog piss on the way down. The winds are intense today. Raining pollen around and on me. I'm allergic to everything green. A day like today would not be placed in my favorite days list.

There is madness and nothingness creeping underneath the kids of downtown sacramento.
bars.
bars.
beer.
beer.
nothing.
nothing.
blank.

i look at those surronding me and ask myself why? why have most minds lost in rebutle of past comings?

no conditioner

my day has come and gone with swift force. i am now downtown in the mix of carried on speech.

i quit my job.
its almost over.
thank Jesus.

What is this, Wonka, some kind of funhouse? Why? Having fun?

There's no earthly way of knowing / Which direction we are going / There's no knowing where we're rowing / Or which way the river's flowing / Is it raining? / Is it snowing? / Is a hurricane a-blowing?

I sit above the masses. The woman nearest to me is pushing a cart that reads 'ready to catalog'. The man across this cubby desk is balding. I fear he lacks the lacking. What inspiration, what desired piece of a human being could, would, want, to exude from within him?

Lately I've been attempting to understand the consciousness of others surrounding me. What is important to them? For example, I have a late forties to early fifties gentleman in my poetry class. Grade A douche bag. He speaks of things that he forcefully tries to connect with through events or assumptions that have no congruency with the lecture at hand. He's the peer that everyone thinks should shut the fuck up. The peer you roll your eyes at, with certainty and aggravation in your chest awaiting his response to something in your text. What is important to him? What does he care about? The orange nature of his skin reminds me of a withered man that has been trying to hard his entire life. The knowledge he pertains is far from what I could say I have read or encountered. Yet still, i find him ignorant. Unintelligent. How can you know so much and still think nothing? Sadness bleeds from his eyes a color of transparency. How does he speak? I understand this man is not me. He doesn't know what i know or think as i do[not that i have important thought]. I understand that. He lacks beauty. So what is the point? What is important to him?

My assumptions:

1. sex

2.woman

3. tennis in his tennis shoes with his tennis shirt for his tennis team at his college with tennis team mates that are tennis players half his age

4.his appearance- his mannerisms exude insecurity all while speaking with purpose

5.floating thoughts that never seem to lay from the lack of weight upon them

6.woman

7.TV

...................................................................................................................................

i woke next to saint a of mind.