new year's---looking back--the good, the bad and the ugly

happy almost new year people. this year has been hard and glorious. i graduated magna cum laude at ucla after putting off my education for a long time because of not having the money and because i was a musician and thought i would make a go of it.

The Circular Thought

In the morning, I feel sick, it's every day now. I don't expect you to help me.

Then this won't work.

I didn't want it to. You don't have what I want.

A Pink Mansion, A Fake-Girlfriend, and A Lost Cause

The day I left for Santa Barbara, Brett had thrown himself across my car while I was driving. He fell off and grabbed his leg screaming acting like it was really hurt. I watched out the rear-view window until I hit the freeway, and eventually he gave up the act and walked in his suit to our apartment.

Christmas In Los Angeles--The Education

Sante Sangre was on the TV. There was a futon in the middle of the room and a smell I couldn't place. The images on the screen had a young man carving a tattoo into his chest of a giant eagle. He screamed openly. The backdrop was a movable circus, somewhere in a foreign land. By the title of the movie, I imagined it to be Bogota, Columbia, but I can't say why. It might have been Brett told me that was where it took place. I looked at Brett, who was next to me, but he didn't see me, not in the way I wanted him to.

Christmas at the Bar

I was at Tom Bergin's drinking. It was Christmas. Three years away from you. No more pain there. No more fun, either. I was with someone else, but he was in Chicago. I was sitting next to a man who said:

I married her when I was drunk and it's been thirty years. Or something.

I said, I'm with someone new, but it doesn't matter, my soul is still attached to the other one. Nothing I can do about that.

The man ordered us one more round and we split it. It was bass ale. I said the problem is he misses me too, but we went to jail and stuff. He raised his glass and we toasted. He said, to love, my dear. We hugged. A full goddamn bear hug, right there.

He said, I didn't talk to someone who loved me for twenty years. She hurt me. I was getting her back.

I pulled out a little blue pill from my pocket and washed it back looking him in the eyes.

What's that?

Valium, want one?

He shook his head, saying: Sometimes no matter how nice you are, they will hate you for something you never get to know about.

Did you ever tell her?

She died. So, no.

Rainy Night In Soho---For you.

My Childhood Bedroom

Had four walls. Two built in beds with comforters left over from the previous owners. They were turquoise and pink. Actually, they were two sheets sewn together which provided me with no warmth.

Los Angeles, You Dirty Whore

The mornings are the worst. I walk outside my apartment on Argyle. Down past the giant bird tree and I hear the freeway. There is nothing to love on this street. Not my apartment.

On Being Nineteen and My Own Cowardice

I met a guy tonight. I know he is going to read this and I hope he doesn't get pissed for me writing it, because I just can't help it. And that, my friends, is the answer to why I fight with so many of you. You ask for silence and I refuse.

What Can I Say?

If there is a time to say the words to you, It will come by moonlight while I am under another man. Grunting and breathing, but saying no names.

Elliott Smith

i went to an impromptu concert once at spaceland in silverlake where elliott smith sat on a chair and had a giant red balloon floating behind him.

Carmen

i've named her carmen, because she still exists on planet earth and i don't want her finding me. but, carmen, the heroin addict was my best friend.

Neutral Milk Hotel - The King of Carrot Flowers Pt. I

maybe i love you

that's why you haunt me. i sat at the corner on la brea, at the bus bench, freezing my fingers off, looking for you.

being a girl

the problem is in not being one.

it's not going to get better---sorry

here's the truth, it's not going to get better.

the date

he rolled up in a two-hundred-thousand-dollar car.

what's wrong, lisa?

i don't really understand it, but i've had way too many emails

at odds

i waited. i called.

los angeles snapshot

i slept in a gutter,

you

had dirty fingers. a taste for strippers.

number 9

i want you to tell me what you did. what poison could i take, in los angeles bars.

my love

isn't ready

homeless

she has no home

do you miss me?

i miss you
do you miss me?