logic

i guess i view my friendships with people differently than some might.

i think of loyalty as something permanent...there is no option. 

if you are in my life, then i care for you. 

always. 

i'm starting to understand that trust can be something very temporary

at this point in my life,

i don't really trust too many. 

this is not a sad statement. 

this is a very important thing for me to remember.  

Rain Must Pour

I miss Jordyn and Jeff Buckley. 

I don't what it is...

maybe it's because i'm going to start my period but fuck

i feel like crying.

Jeff-whywhywhy

you know that same old song

but tonight, I salute to you

and fall asleep to your humbling voice. 

Light My Fire

Bill Withers is singing to us 

through the neighbor's window next door

something to the tune of a Doors cover

Nick, Dani, and I are hanging out at Tim's apartment...eating pizza and spilling all over the hardwood floor. 

We are a mess. 

LA

oh, man. i miss jordyn. 

we are on a mini tour again-the lovely Los Angeles.

Something has settled wrong with me and body feels like shit.

I feel dehydrated. 

i want to sleep but my body won't get comfortable. I don't understand it. 

Maybe it's because my girl is in our bed. 

dream letter

i feel that i've been living in an alternate universe this past week.
nothing really makes sense
but at the same time
nothing really matters.

everything really matters
but it seems like a big blue haze has been over my eyes this wee

prayers

it's been a heavy couple of days around here.

emotions are everywhere. 

it makes me feel helpless. 

Go Do

we met Jonsi.

everything is connected.

Hangar, I love you.

I love the Hangar.
Lately, it's been my second home.

I hope it will stay forever.

Al Green

Al Green is playing in the hotel lobby
and i remember being 6 years old,
singing along to him
in the back seat of my mother's car-
she loved him-
she never really listened to much music (from what I can remember)
but she loved him.

there was hardly any sunlight that came through her bedroom window,
i remember
a stark darkness
light
and comforting.
i would listen to Al Green's record
while staring out the window
through the half drawn curtain.
it was white.
her walls were bare.
there was always nothing there.

i would hold my breath in between the pauses of each song,
always smiling in great gasps when the next one started.

mazzy star morning

in the coffee shoe

with Mazzy Star in my ears

i forget that other people are around

it's a bad character trait

but i'm so tired of failing people

and last night broke my heart 

i need to be better to her. 

muse(s)

you see!!!!

this is what life was meant for!

i love you.


no seriously, i do.

2/3

reading the Jeff Buckley book
that I recieved for my birthday
hurts me.

i always feel so overwhelmed and can hardly look at or read more than 3 pages at a time.

it's like Pessoa's "book of disquiet"...it's my favorite book but I've been reading it for the last 4 years and I'm only a little more than halfway.

fucking read more than 2 sentences and he knocks me out.

hotel california.

the third day and one more to go...

and then i am free from the hotel-hospitality-toothbrush-toothpaste-hair comb-shaving cream-razor-pillows and blankets

world of fucking spoiled Americans.



until Monday, that is.







(and man...i wonder what the 5 year old me would say if we were face to face.
you know, the one who used to obsess over the blue Diana Ross & the Supremes record and dance and sing to her stuff animals-she didn't know that it was so typical to do back then-i wonder. i never thought about working at a hotel -well, i never thought about turning 25 either, i guess. i actually have never been able to see myself over the age of 27. )

i guess we will see.

love you, goodnight.

is dancing...

the boy who makes my coffee at Metro looks just like my father did when he was our age.
black shaggy hair
and those tight t-frame sweatshirts
form fitting jeans
and facial stubble-sometimes a mustache.

it took me back when i saw him today.
i had never realized.
but jordyn was there to be a witness so we both exclaimed
"woah. that guy looks like (my) (your) father when he was younger".

_________________________________________thiseathismuchtoofamiliar//distant//troubling sometimes
(oh but stop your damn complaning-your still young enough to pass this old blood test)

_________________________________________

transfer to stumbling upon the most glorious record shop in sacramento

there were piles of classic and obscure records all over the floor,
bursting from the seams
of this dusty old building
AH!
i'm in love
sort of rapture
old Miles, Ella, Billie, Bill Withers, Led Zep, Motown, 1940's comps, etc etc
I want i want i want
but I could not find the Mingus
(and so the hunt must go on!)

i will go back there friday with time and 100 dollars and
fucking scour the place
and leave with a pile of madness
and so many things
to discover and study.

all i want to do is study music.
music. and i don't mean the fucking technical shit.
i don't care about the rudiments, the notes exactly, the time signatures-
no no no.
i want to hear the throat stretch,
the skin of it.

jordyn.

jordyn is at my work
showing me all of the pictures that
she has of me on her computer.

i'm really fucking lucky that she is obsessed with me.

that girl is legit.

BADU.

you really don't realize how much music can help
until
you find yourself
smiling down the street
as you are driving.

michelle.

these are the things that i don't tell many

(if any)

andiwontandiwontandiwont

because fuck,

it's fucked 

up. 

but-

darling, why do you allow such things

to come into your life?

(and you say "oh but she never knew any better")

oh, all the repercussions of a life not lived

or role models for parents

i'm so tired of this.

i wish i could hold your hand and guide you through this simple life that i live

and make you see that there are good people

here

that men are not monsters

all the time

that women are not out to get you

or hurt you

or steal from you

that sometimes, there are genuine moments

that sometimes, it is ok to laugh and mean it

that sometimes, it is good to smile and feel it

oh, mama

i'm so sorry for everything you've never felt. 

mom.

this past week has been a frantic blur

and this time, 

i am not being dramatic. 

experiences that are traumatic 

NEVER leave you.

don't forget that.

trust me,

i tried and all that i got were a few eventful years

and now 

all i feel 

is the 

crying light. 

but

there has to be hope. 

there must be, otherwise why would we be here?

if anything, 

you have to gather all of those moments that kill you

and pull them together 

and create something really beautiful if you can. 

whether you scream at people, 

or cry during recordings, 

or jump and shout on a stage,

or read to a child,

or write letters to dead heroes,

or kiss your lover,

or walk your dog,

or hug a friend,

or eat cereal.

it has to work out. 

soul//bad

if you have soul,

you keep it quiet

(almost none of us do). 

baseball bat to the face

i'm so tired of this shit. 

wheel

the friends that i miss
were staples at the old house
(and when i say old house, i mean old)

we would eat tofu tacos on the sidewalk,
or fall asleep to devendra banhart's record (the solo shit),
or have dance parties in the kitchen (daft punk and royksop),
or hide in my tiny bedroom,
or drink way too much Carlo Rossi and talk for hours in the lopsided living room,
or have presents be thrown into open windows when not looking,
or quiet recordings of voices sung or unsung.

i am studying the ways that we grow up.
and i understand the different theories that people have proposed...
yes, i know that we all go through cycles
(we are born, we are not alone, and then we grow up and we are alone and then we meet people and then we are not alone anymore but then we lose contact with those so we are really alone and then then they meet people and now then are not alone but then they lose others so they are alone ?!?!?!)
i don't know.
i really just want to thrown my arms up in defeat and
meet you all there in the 6th street park and
ride on that wheel one more time
but this time instead of taking only pictures of us turning,
i would swallow.

mississippi river

i wanted him to be in my blood.

i wouldn't be afraid of disease//

i'd wallow around in it for a few minutes and 

drink for an hour.

this isin't sexual

or maybe it is.

but fuck. 

why did he have to let the river take him?