fuck your christmas bonus in the ass.

i hate the holidays.
i already miss the snow...

he won't know. he'll never know.

got a "merry christmas" from a person who used to call themselves my friend

i told her to fuck off. and damn, it felt good not to forgive someone for a change.

because i'm fond of them

open letter.
one chance. one chance is all i'd need to prove myself.
i'd be the woman standing on the mountain top, giving every last breath she has, to praise your existence
i'd be the sum of all the broken dreams you ever had and never intended to keep holding onto
i'd be as delectable as your favorite beer, and maybe you'd keep a little bit of the foam on your lip to lick off later
i'd be a cheap date
and i'd hold the door open for you and would thank you if you did the same for me
i'd find ways to make doors open for you
you and i, we'd do big things
and we'd make little things...that would grow into the concrete face of our love
all at once, we'd both be strong enough to carry the armor the other provides
but we will let it slide off easily for each other
i'll mend your broken bones with splints made from the rusted roots of my being
i'll give you terrible haircuts
i'll make those bad dreams go away by bending my fingers intwined like dream cathers and you will sleep and dream of love
i won't argue politics, unless provoked
and i'll root for your favorite teams
i'll never surrender so that your victories will be more fruitful
respect. i'll deem you in the highest regard
i'll spend my own money
some on you
more on us
like time
like moments
like writing you letters
and you'll have always loved my words

even though i can't promise you the world...i can give it what i've got

an oldie.

i'll tell you what i see when i look into a mirror...
i see a little girl, who has a long way, still, to go...
i see my father changing faces, changing moods, but never changing his mind...
almost foreseen, he doesn't give a shit about seeing his kids.
i see my mother, standing tall, living up to no one's standards, making sure to make due.
almost forgotten, she doesn't know how to let go of this child's eyes.
i see those eyes, stare back at me...and i wonder, who is it, i'm supposed to be...
i know one day, they won't be able to talk to me like they did in grade school...
and if they do, it won't hurt me like it used to...
i know one day, this face will grow tired...i'll earn wrinkles...my hair will gray...
i will finally be looking at the person i would aspire to become...
and i'll have sworn that i could already recognize myself...
hopefully, by then, i won't need mirrors.

if i were jesus.

if i were to raise up my father, in a light he didn't deserve...
to deify him...
so that he were considered a god.

perhaps he would love me as much as his other children.

maybe if my mother were more like mother theresa...
people would remember her in a different light...
they'd see that she truly was a saint...
she was all seeing, all knowing, and could heal the sick and wounded...
but what saint, has ever healed themselves?

if i were jesus...
i'd make the rain fall a little bit, every day...
i'd tell you not to pray to me...but to yourselves...
and you all, would finally know, finally see, and finally feel...
my love.

wow.

as i was rummaging through my uncle's movie collection...i find "Mark & Mara's Wedding"
so i popped it in the VCR and watched it.

i had forgotten what her voice sounded like...her laugh...
the way she looked when she was really smiling, and not posing for the photos that are the only thing i have left of her.
the way the two of them seemed to share something greater than we could see...as she said "i love you, mark" as he was walking by...
it seemed that love was enough, right where it was, right as it was...right where it needed to be.
i was 9 years old in the video...and i don't think i remember my mother being so beautiful as she was when she was smiling...like in this video...
it was hard to watch someone so beautiful...knowing that within 5 years, she'd be lying in anguish nearly every day...a monster...sicker than i've ever seen someone...
still, my memories are cloudy...and i can't be sure if most of it was exaggerated...
all i know is that she's gone now.
been gone for a long while.
but man...

she was so beautiful when she was smiling.

small things

i wish for small things.
like the drill bit not to break.
for men to be as soft as the soil is here.
for cousins to smile.
i wish for small things like the equation between you and i finally being solved.
i wish for the spirituality in me to be found.
i wish for the pictures to never turn out better than what they're being taken of.
i wish men were as strong as these redwoods.
i wish for small things like christmas coffee mugs filled with tea.
for someone to remember me.
for the captain's chair.
for my body to be covered in my history.
for the future to come as slow as it wants.
i wish for small things like tiny fish on the end of my pole.
for my creativity to be rewarded even halfheartedly.
for criticism that means something.
for greasy pliers and softer sandpaper.
i wish for small things like the roosters giving up.
like my mother's ashes making it here safely.
like my brother knowing how much he's loved.
like my dad dying peacefully in his sleep.
i wish for small things like small victories and small treasures.
like smiles.
like handshakes.
like gestures.
small things.

like small things that are much greater than they sound.

ignorant little girls who shouldn't speak

i guess you could say i ruined thanksgiving last night...

got into an arguement about prop 8 with 2 homophobes (who happen to be my uncle and my grandma's boyfriend)...

and then about 9/11 with people who think that the news stations(abc, nbc, fox) are all legitimate in reporting the truth...

when i asked my grandma's boyfriend "what if i was gay...would you not want me to have the same opportunity as you? To be happy? to get married if i wanted?"

he said "homosexuals are gross...it's not natural..."

i asked him if it made any difference whatsoever in his life, if the gay guys up the street want to get married, and he said "yeah, it's disgusting and they just want tax breaks...marriage should be between a man and a woman"

i got so heated...that i almost threw my plate at the wall...

instead, i spoke in a quiet voice, and tried my damndest to show that he was wrong, bigoted, homophobic, and a fucking asshole to boot.

he then said "you're an ignorant little girl"...and told my cousin "you didn't vote, so you can't talk about any of this"...

her dad, my uncle, then said that "most gays, are pedophiles"
wwhaaaaaaaaat?!?!?!

i left with courtney, walked down the stairs, and just as i got to the bottom, i ran back to the top, went into the house, and yelled "OH, BY THE WAY, I STOLE THE MCCAIN SIGN OUT OF THE YARD"...

WE spent the night at my bosses other house(while his tenant is away)...i got high, drunk on champagne...and went to sleep...

- something new i'm working on.



i push my fingers into my ears as deep as they will go...
goddamn! i wish i couldn't hear myself anymore...
pretty enough to get the job, but not too pretty that there will be a distraction...
this old man's eyes are speaking of troubled times ahead. he will not let me leave.
except by the blade.
this scar's been here for 12 days too long, and i still haven't had a cigarette.
if i was a little bit stronger, i'd have one.
but i am weak, cowering before myself like a child before a belt...
i won't let myself go places.
because being late is far more scary than getting lost.
these creeks are carrying with them, my childhood disillusion and the sand which i bagged to wall up this...overwhelming sadness...
and we all need to drain out.

sometime.