Heave Ho

I've moved.

Is This the Right Place...

... or the right time?

I constantly feel like I'm on a racing train, holding heavy luggage in each hand, and trying to make my way down a narrow aisle without hitting anyone's shoulder and ignoring my cell phone that is constantly ringing, ringing, ringing because I can pick it up later. Later, later, later, when I'm not so busy, when I have some time, time, time.

I'm beginning to think I'll never be able to pick up.

I remember this feeling and it scares me. So close, so close, SOCLOSEtoinsanity.

Chihuahua

Um. Bank of America just approved me for a card with an inconceivable credit line. I mean, a shitload of money. WHATTHEFUCK? I don't even have a job. I guess that's how I'm financing Puerto Rico.

Knives Out

I am terrified. Every single cell of my body is vibrating, every muscle is tensed, every neuron is firing. I am buzzing. I am paralyzed. I am terrified.

This One's for Julian

In the middle of watching Gilmore Girls:

Dad: You know what the guy said? The moon.. if the moon didn't exist, the earth would not rotate.
Mom: What guy?
Dad: (unintelligible mumbles) ...That guy.

Awkward silence.

Dad: So... why did Abraham kill his son?
Mom: ...He didn't kill his son.
Dad: Yeah. He did. Isaac.
Mom: ...Okay, why?
Dad: I don't know.

Mary J. Blues

I don't have time for this drama bullshit. Honestly. I'm going back to guys permanently. I don't know why I thought I could ever be a girl.

Before We Die

It's been brought to my attention that I may have lost my edge. That is, if I ever had an edge to begin with. I apologize.

I had a dream that I was fighting to keep this door locked because some guy was trying to get in and kill/rape me. I had to keep my weight against the door and my hand on the lock the entire time and I would scream every time I slipped and he almost got through. Some cousins of mine were with me and I was trying to explain how dangerous it was but they couldn't really understand why I was so afraid.

I don't need Sigmund Freud to anaylze that.

In related news, I'm looking forward to Florence. Not the anxiety-provoking planning and financial aspect of it, but I think I need it to touch base with myself. I've come to realize that I lose sight of the writer in me when I get distracted by cute boys and dimples.

I want to go to the Cloisters when the weather turns warm. And to Governor's Island. And I want to-- no, I'm going to cross the Brooklyn Bridge and eat at Grimaldi's. Finally.

And then I'm going to move to Vieques when I graduate from college where I'll swim with phosphorescent fish, never wear closed shoes again, and probably give birth to genetically mutated children. But at least I won't have to deal with statistical computations ever again.