Lauren Bacall goes to China and decides she doesn't like camels

I'm so sorry

It's so hard to put things into words anymore. The older I get the less I have to rant about. 

What do I hate. What do I feel with extreme passion. What deep thoughts in my brainsoup do I have left to talk about.

I could talk about death, that mushroom cloud that grows a little bigger day by day, always visible, always dark on the horizon raining ash. 

I could talk about life, the endless determined unpredictable tangle of silk stretched around the bone  platforms of people who used to be, building into the sky. 

sheets wrinkling like skin, warm on one side and cold on the other

A little girl skipping in dyed pools and leaving trails of neon behind

The way the world below moves slow when you go too fast, a plane, metal cutting sunset clouds into bite-sized pieces for the sky monsters and the sea monsters

the little bits and pieces of familiarity that make you love something and hate something for never changing

The beauty of a single moment, no flash, no explosive happiness or memorable event, just a moment passing whole and true and followed eternally by clones, 

that the silence makes the noise all the more precious

I am no one

I am the fishhook into the soul

I am the laser sight on the forehead

I am the moon girl hiding her face

I'm the tunnel for the water

tunnel for the wind

I am the construct people tie wishes to
I am the curl of hair on your shoulder that makes you look beautiful

I am the thing that takes someone to that place of insane silence

I am the creator of the creators of the creators

I have been created by the creators of the creators

I am.

just a contrary girl with too much to feel and a job of knowing what to say 

what to be (a character)

who to be (a character)

so little of me is real(ly good)

I want to get better all the time

If I don't, I'm not really living

I want to know

but I also don't want to know

you're gonna push your luck pt. II

what's really shitty

what's really shitty is now everything is just fodder for books
separate the wheat from the chaff
so that means

ITS TIME TO EXPERIENCE EVERYTHING

can I handle this author thing

of course i can




what's left of my advance after house loans/refi!!!
have to be here to sign off on the refi payments isn't that lovely

and not even half is paid off

sssssssssssssssssssssssiiiiiiiiiiiiiiggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh



(but I've got 4k!~!!!!!~!!!)
I could;

-Buy a new washer/dryer/water pump for the house

-or go to seattle for a few days and SHOP TILL I DROP and DYE MY HAIR and stay in that fancy hilton downtown and be a classy lady for a few days like I always dreamed and visit YOU GUYSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS (probably spring break)
and if I go talk to the barnes and noble people/independent bookstores about you know what TECHNICALLY THE FLIGHT IS A TAX WRITE OFF


hahahha why is it even a choice I already know what I'm gonna choose


I'm getting a little old though I don't want to wait until I'm forty to be selfish

I started an IRA which is super cool


guys you can't take money with you and you could die at any moment
I don't know if I'm gonna live a long time
so

I want to be selfish sometimes


I can write a new book easily don't worry and I'm working so it's not like I'm totally stupid

but this little pillow of money would be fun to do something with!
I haven't done something fun in a long time

but it should go to concrete progress not frilly frivolous stuff

I'm pretty torn

I'm pretty.














full of shit.

all the time all the time


take pictures all the time

warpaint face

warpaint warpaint warpaint

blood and ash mixed to rust

nothing is impossible where I come from

give me neon hair colors and fatty tuna sushi or give me death

silver and gold

sometimes I just want a nice place for my melodrama to fall 
I can't FB anything because everyone's watching
I can't twitter anything because everyone's watching
this is my lasttttttttttttttttttttttt hidden place
I'm already ruining my image of accomplished author girl it's fantastic
I'm so bad at taking anything seriously
life included
politics nope
literary snobbery nope
book-world popularity nope
awards nope
honor nope
family nope


even though I've done this, it's still not enough

I don't think it'll ever be enough


money solves everything
money is what we're killing ourselves for
what an unworthy fucking cause

people are counting on me
but I wanna run away

I need to make it big or I'll never be able to make them happy

that's my next goal

be big

to do that, I have to give up something, probably
my integrity is the only thing i have left, really

and my youth/health


if I run and leave them to work it out it won't work out good
mom's been through so much in her life, she deserves a place of her own
dad's worked so hard, he needs to let go and rest for a while
my sister's going down a strange path because she doesn't have a lot of resources I don't want her to do things just because she's desperate for money I want her to have the freedom to choose her own life without restrictions
I wanna be the cool aunt who takes my nieces on trips to Japan, something they remember for all their lives, college, also, it would be hella cool to help them with college

if I run


if I run

I'd hate myself
but I'd be free



but if I make it big, it would all be okay

right?








I don't know how to be anything other than helpful

it's annoying

what do people do with their lives when it isn't about money



doubt is super unsexy

so I'll stop that now

I've made up my mind

I'm going to get huge, just watch me
do try to keep up