I know where the summer goes.

Aside from suffering from heat exhaustion to the point of near hospitalization, I can't seem to catch a minute to take a breath. I can't be bothered to think about things that were once self-destructive and consuming. And it appears as though I've lost the ability to frown. All of the aforementioned details are positive.

My life is quickly becoming a technicolor kaleidoscope, twisting and turning in every shade of wonderful. Reds, yellows and violets. Although it's a beautiful color in every form, I very rarely see the blues; they're difficult to find these days.

Spf 50, warm swimming pools, wine coolers for breakfast, white eye liner, flashbulbs, kind and confident people, shish kabobs, seedless watermelon, $110 sunglasses, bikinis, thumbs up, biting straws, diving board laziness, hot pavement on bare feet, oversexed condiments, awkward legs, leotards, scar secrets, shaking hands, high maintenance boys and sun kissed happiness.

After waking up on the couch at midnight, in a heat exhausted stupor I thought about how I really wanted someone there to pat my forehead with a cool washcloth, fetch me ice water with a bendy straw, walk me to my room and to tell me that by morning I will feel much better about everything. But I had to do these things on my own. It's okay, really. Everything is coming along just as it should.

I should have invested in waterproof mascara a long time ago.
But if my luck keeps up, I won't be needing it any time soon.

Steady as I go.

"Hope is the thing with feathers"

Correction:
It's not a matter of moving on. Moving on is the easy part. I've done that already. Actually, I remember doing that a long time ago. It's finding ways to appreciate experiences and finding lessons in messes that takes time and effort. But at least I've found a flower in this shit of a situation. It's actually quite funny, really. Without this, what fodder would I have for my writing? This whole mishap was a Godsend. A fucking Godsend, I tell you!!! I thank both my lucky and unlucky stars that this fell into my open lap because in all honesty this is the funniest, most ridiculously genius situation that could possibly be presented to me (of all people!)

Am I ashamed? Am I embarrassed? Of course I am. How could I not be? At least I'm not too prideful to admit my shame and ultimately my poor and careless judge of character.

Now that I'm living off of the state of Michigan (although I am still rightfully employed), with days upon days free of responsibility and/or obligation, I can finally make shit happen (not, of course, the same shit I referred to previously) For example; I start my second attempt at composing a novella tomorrow morning. I'm also de-cluttering my world of many things that are merely collecting dust. The modeling thing? Yeah. I'm going to start working on that in a more pugnacious manner, too. It's time to get aggressive because now I know what I want and I know what I deserve; Happiness. Duh!

I bought Guatemalan worry dolls. I've been wearing them around my neck.

I bought an old photograph of a girl who shares the same hunger.

I ate a cactus.

I'm shooting a cover and spread for Real Detroit on Tuesday.

There has been, within the past 24 hours, a dramatic shift in my rotation. I need a gravitational push.

I am convinced that the birds are literally falling from the sky. Every where I go, there are fallen nests, birds with broken necks, abandoned eggs. I'm starting to think that they've forgotten how to fly. Or maybe the winds are not carrying them the same.

Are we not all just flightless birds?

¹in·fi·nite

1: extending indefinitely :endless <infinite space>
2: immeasurably or inconceivably great or extensive: inexhaustible <infinite patience>
3: subject to no limitation or external determination

I'm getting a new tattoo. I'm starting at the beginning. Things will start happening, not because they need to or have to, but because I now know that I have the power to alter each and every avenue I am confronted with.

Three years ago today, I graduated high school and I am in the exact same place, feeling the exact same way, thinking about the exact same things. This is a wake up call. I suppose this whole week has been a wake up call. But what happens when I fall asleep?

Freedom, in its purest most unassuming form can only be found on a dance floor. Or so I am convinced.

I spent the entire evening dancing with my eyes closed. Flashes of light shined through in distorted shades of shadow. Of course when I opened them, I was blinded by awkward familiarity, which I did my best to avoid even though I wanted nothing more than for them to recognize me (which they would have if I had been standing a bit closer.) It's best that we did not exchange words. They would have forgotten my name, but would remember my brief association with you. Perhaps you told them all about how it "Didn't work out" or perhaps you never told them anything at all. Despite not talking to them, seeing them was proof enough that this hurts. I was led astray by a reckless heart and now I am trying to find my way back.

Him: clean break?

Me: I don't want to lose a friend, though.

Me: I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said.

Him: Its not as if you'll never hear from me.

Him: Its ok.

Him: It isn't right for me to talk to you anymore.

Me: It's fine. I'm fine, really.

Him: Keep this part out of your blog.

Him: but I really am an awful person; An awful, lonely, bad person.

Me: Oh shut up with that. jesus. And I leave nothing out of my blog.

Him: you should have more confidence. My final words.

Me: final words?

I won't be drinking from the poisoned well of love any time soon.
In fact, I'm starting to lose the will to drink at all.

I will never begin to understand how it is people can hurt one another. I include myself in this both parts of this riddle.

It's strange to watch everyone walk away from you so easily.

My world is moving in such a dreamlike rotation.

I'll find the pieces.

Alice: Oh, no, no. I was just wondering if you could help me find my way.

Cheshire Cat: Well that depends on where you want to get to.
Alice: Oh, it really doesn't matter, as long as...

Cheshire Cat: Then it really doesn't matter which way you go.

The past few days have merely been slightly distorted mirrors of one another. Early morning walks, accidental poems and car rides without destinations. Oh, and cigarettes. Lots and lots of cigarettes.

It makes sense, I suppose. The truth is, this has become a game. I don't know what I'm trying to win or why I'm trying to win. I'm not sure I even want to win. If the past is any indication as to what is awaiting me at the finish line, then I feel like I'm wasting my time. It's like when you play those awful games at traveling carnivals. The one where you attempt to win a goldfish, even though you have no desire to own or care for a goldfish. You simply have to win. And when you take it home and place it in a bowl of sorts you are certain you'll wake up to find it floating at the top. You won't care. You'll flush it down the toilet and forget about the prize. Because after all, you've already won. You can't lose something you never had. I think I secretly want to win just so I can lose.

And yes. I am the queen of convoluted metaphors.

I realized how nurturing I am and how willing I am to nurture just about everyone and tend immediately to their needs. So much so that I forget to take care of myself. I just need a little water now and then. I need some sunlight, too.

While at the pet store, trying my best to avoid walking near the cats in cages, I caved and had to give my fond regards to the furry residents of the towering land of feline imprisonment. And that's when I saw her. Lily, was her name. Solid black. All I had to do was look in her direction and I knew it was fate. I walked to her cage. She pawed at me. I had to pull myself away otherwise I would have opened the cage, put her in my purse and bolted out of the door. Not having her in my arms is my most consuming regret.

That last line would sound beautiful coming from a boys mouth in reference to a failed love affair, wouldn't it? I think so, too.

I feel as though I have voluntarily severed my own leg.
I'm not quite sure how I feel about this rash decision.

It feels like Valentines Day.

This Is Not An Exit

I knew my invitation would be indirectly declined. I was a fool to think otherwise. Although I was lucky enough to be in the company of good friends, they failed to take note of the empty chair beside me. Just as the curtains were opening and lights were dimming, I turned back to look at the doors. They were shut. I returned my attention to the screen where a bloody onslaught was about to mirror the one within. Oh well. Despite my ignored invitation, seeing American Psycho on the big screen is easily one of the coolest experiences ever. Hands down.

I have seven days off. Some might say that I'm on an involuntary vacation, perhaps a lay off. Voluntary or not, I'll gladly accept the coming days for which I haven't a single plan or obligation. More than likely I will spend the week ahead writing and running and singing and falling. Perhaps I'll just roam the streets aimlessly in desperate search for adventure.

Last night, I finally slept sound enough to dream. Too bad it was a nightmare.

I've reached the conclusion that I am much too selfish to be anything other than alone.

Someone told me the name of the rarest bird in the world. I have since forgotten it. I want to be the rarest bird in the world but I've got a long way to go.

"She said she couldn't stand people

who gave up trying"

You know something in your life needs to change
when you wake up to, "Hey! You might have an STD!"
So, so awesome. I'm fine, though. Nothing to worry about.
It's just really, super funny.
A virgin with an STD?
Comedic gold.

Surprisingly, that's a whole lot less funny than the happenings of the past two days, believe it or not! Close your eyes...are they closed? CLOSE 'EM, DAMMIT! Okay. Now, imagine fighting for the love of someone you could see yourself potentially being with somewhere down the line. Got it? Good. Okay. Now, imagine you make countless attempts to explain your true intentions only to have them ignored by a fucking defeatist attitude. Once you've got that, imagine hearing the same lines over and over. For example; "I'm a bad person. I'd ruin your life. I was trying to protect you." Now, pretend you cut it off because you can't handle all that bullshit small talk. Then imagine being deleted out of that someones life, causing you to delete them from yours. Now, stick your hand down your throat and yank out that dreadful and persistent heart of yours and set it on fire. That's right, fire! Feels good, doesn't it? Finally, try to imagine the one that got away. It's the same person, isn't it? Open your eyes. Hey, hey! Don't cry! It's funny, see? Laugh! Love is a joke; the funniest joke.

The remaining days of this week and the days that spill into the next will be spent primarily looking for new employment. This, so I assume, should be a major check mark in the "fail" column of my life chart. I assume the same result will be true of the diet (which consists of eliminating the entire food pyramid and then some) I plan on starting tomorrow.

I looked up "rut" in the dictionary:

1: an annually recurrent state of sexual excitement in the male deer
2: a track worn by a wheel or by habitual passage
3: a usual or fixed practice

All of those are suitable definitions of the state I am currently in. No need to worry, though. I'll dig myself out of this somehow. All I need is a shovel or two and perhaps a miracle...whatever that is.

Check ignition and may Gods love be with you

In all my life, things have never been so discombobulated as they are now. I feel like I have the Midas touch. But instead of gold, it's shit. Shit, I tell you!

First, the impossible happens. And of course it happens when I least expect it, thus leaving me completely unprepared. It was the most frustrating conversation I have ever had in my entire life. I feel like if we had been talking face to face, I would have been screaming. Even though no one could see me, I threw my hands up out of pure vexation more than once and cursed at the computer screen as if it made a difference. It was cathartic, despite the fact that my questions were endless and his answers were metaphors. Nothing was resolved. Thus is life, I guess. It's sad how I willingly anticipate that all promises made to me will be broken. So far, this one is no exception.

I hate that this isn't easy for me and that I have given power to a powerless situation. And I especially hate that I have publicly humiliated myself (I might go as far to say flagellate) all thanks to butterflies that someone once graciously gave me and then stole back only to set them free without me. Well, rest assured. Next time I happen to see one of our butterflies (well, they're your responsibility now) I will trap it in a jar and let it die. It's only fair.

I catwalked to what I surely believed was my inevitable death. Turns out (after watching video recorded evidence) I didn't embarrass myself that bad. It was all actually quite adorable. I laughed. I laughed on the runway. How cute is that?! (If you don't know how to answer that question, allow me; SUPER CUTE!)

Me: Do you girls happen to have a pen?
Model: What? Are you signing an autograph or something?
Me: No...

Model: You know who you look like?
Me: Jenny Lewis?
Model: How'd you know I was going to say that?!
Me: Lucky guess?

I need a new job within the next three weeks. I'm nearly unemployable, seeing my flawless track record of being fired. But I need a job. I cannot live on less than ten hours a week, making less than eight dollars an hour in a place where my off color jokes are ridiculed by the ill humored. Fast food and stripping are my last resorts.

It's funny how just a few months ago everything seemed to be falling into place. Which place, I am unsure, but they were undoubtedly falling strategically into a some designated fate. And now, the pieces that were once so systematically arranged are now scattered haphazardly. Don't worry. I'll get my dust pan and start cleaning up. Perhaps if I take the time to align the pieces they will form a silver lining...or something like that.

[I had to, I'm sorry. I just wanted you to let me in. I cared about you more than you will ever know. Thank you for protecting me. ]

(No butterflies were harmed in the writing of this entry.)