I had a sex dream with Freja

I have been having teacher training all week. I am not good at teaching things. All my life I thought I was good at explaining and showing. But, apparently, grammatical concepts evade me: I freeze and babble and assume... It's not pretty. I am also becoming more and more deficient vis-à-vis my attention ever single day. I can't concentrate for more than fifteen minutes, after which I just *tune out*, even when I am actively trying to listen. I need medication... ohbutwait you don't have health insurance yayyyyy.

give me them pills!

My notebook is one huge scribbledoodle. My fingers are died in icky blue ink, I leave smudgy fingerprints in every available surface. But! Thanks to my ever dwindling attention span, I discovered that the notebook I am using for this class is also the same notebook I used to use as a part-time journal in France. FWANCE! 


I used to have another blog back then, and much of its content I drew from this and other notebooks. I lost everything I ever wrote for that blog because I am extremely intelligent and mistakenly deleted all my backed-up copies. BUT LOOK HERE, I found some golden phrases that reminded me of my year in Paris:
"Is it weird that I write by startin at the last page and keep going back?"
"You know what's weird? People with no chins."
"I want to do queer-latino cinema, but that's like... expected."
"I hate girls who are ashamed of watching porn."

terry richardson

All of them gems. I also wrote something by the name of "anti-solipsism". I vaguely remember coming up with this and thinking it would be something like believing everyone else thought you up, that you only live in other people's mind which is crazy. 

But it's a pretty fun exercise to go over the stuff I wrote and make up new stuff with it (that's called being unoriginal and lazy). I have some poems there I just discovered: poems about a girl who doesn't want me anymore. I feel even shittier than I did five minutes ago.  

BUTWHATEVER right now I am listening to that new Rihanna song, Man Down (have you seen that video? it's craycray) which led me to think about the fist time I heard it, which was in San Francisco with my friend, Banana. Her real name is not Banana. 
Banana and I are meant to live in the same city and go to the same parties and do the same drugs together. She is just one of those people your soul knows it needs around all the time. But Banana lives in San Francisco and I don't. Her apartment and assortment of roommates and friends hit me over the head with a bottle of awesome and I was drunk/dazed with all their goodness. Everyone was so interesting and cool and they all smoked cigarettes! Inside!! I was floored. 

San Francisco was amazingly awesome I have no words. But I don't think it would have been as awesome if it wasn't for the people I met/chilled with. San Franciscans are super friendly but kind of assholes in the way New Yorkers are assholes: because they can. I'm the same way (slash, I'm probably really mean and bitchy, but this is what I tell myself). Because people from SF are so cool they can afford to make snarky comments and criticize my fashion sense. I mean, they live in SF and I don't, they must be doing something better than I am. 

maybe that's it

In SF I stayed with Banana and with Lucy before that. Lucy is not her real name. Lucy's house was actually the most beautiful house I have ever seen. It was small, had two floors. It was in one of those really steep streets in SF, just like the movies. The living/dining room was super spacious and had huge windows that looked onto the street, gazing over the greenest trees ever. If you sat on the couch you thought you were in a very awesome tree house. I took pictures with my Diana, but they didn't come out right and I am sad sad sad about it.

Lucy had two cats, both of them acted like dogs, and one of them was HUGELY FAT and so adorable. It was scared of me. Lucy has problems with a third cat who comes in and eats her cats' food. The cat was names Bruce. Lucy is one of those people who is so chill and interesting and intelligent and wise beyond her years that you don't know where the hell they came from. Like, how is this possible? Her smile could melt ice cubes. I wish I had her around every time I felt sad, she can make a bad mood disappear.

Reading over this I realize all I have talked about is how amazing my friends are and youknowwhat I DONT CARE they totally are and I miss them. The cold makes me all shitty and tired and nostalgic. I am reading over all my love poems and I am getting angrier by the second. To myself, mostly. Today I woke up late and took a nap about an hour and half after I did. I can't stop notsleeping/sleeping. I think about school, about the states, about "her" you know the elusive thing you think you find but then you don't but might you meet her again maybe at a club maybe never, but mostly I wonder how I'm going to fail. I am so scared because I am not taking my medication and I am not feeling well and I can feel it, the spiral I'm right there, and nothing is there to catch me. 

But then I take a sleeping pill and go to sleep.

also, today i had a sex dream involving this individual:
freja beha

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