I’m so fucking crazy I’ve been scrambling around all day, sorting my MIND out because there has been so much going on and I have finally unpacked all my shit. I can’t even keep on one song because I keep wanting to change it and listen to something different. It’s like I’m on drugs but I swear I’m not. and then I’ll suddenly start looking for things here and there and then my uncle asked me if I had eaten anything and I said no and he probably thinks I’m crazy and don’t even know how to feed myself. Now I’m eating something and I realize how hungry I am. anyway good morning
Interesting note in terrible handwriting I must have written down at 4 am
“Seeing the milky way like a person seeing their toes. We are part of it. It is part of us.”
I forgot how to dress in 80 degree weather…
I don’t give a shit what the world thinks. I was born a bitch, I was born a painter, I was born fucked. But I was happy in my way. You did not understand what I am. I am love. I am pleasure, I am essence, I am an idiot, I am an alcoholic, I am tenacious. I am; simply I am…You are a shit.
Well, because there was a warrant for my arrest for possession of dangerous drugs, and I was a Virginia fugitive caught in Miami trying to flee the country, they don’t usually hand out bail for people like that.
At least on paper. My phone call was made to my lawyer and he got me out in one day instead of the estimated 14.
Make your own Bible. Select and collect all the words and sentences that in all your readings have been to you like the blast of a trumpet.
Ok at the airport I kept seeing all these cops and freaking out because my paranoid self thinks that every cop that looks in my direction is going to take me to jail. Luckily I made it to this beautifully fucked up city, it’s hot and humid and the dirty old men that don’t leave you alone are everywhere. Calling you a princess and whatnot but all they really want is to steal your iPhone. Ignore them. Now all I have to do make this crazy town my home and I can travel around the rainforest a and beaches easily
I’m in Costa Rica
the carpet should be replaced
I’m sitting in a room
like every other year once did
when I found myself
starting a new school
in a new place
The walls that once wore
are now clean
in that “new house” fashion
when eager strangers walk around
and imagine the new rooms
cluttered with their old junk
No one can see
the ghostly impression
I left on the place
The ink stains on the carpet
hold paintings and stories
of 10 months time
My life trapped
But to the others,
they’re just stains
And the carpet should be replaced
Honestly, the whole thing started out by me making fun of “aura readers” by making offensive auras like “your aura is the color of jaundice eyes and dead fetuses” just because I was getting annoyed by new age-y crystal aquarius people.
I think that words carry emotion and feeling with them, so just like in poetry, painting a person with words and objects can give them an “aura” of a certain feeling that you can decipher however you like.
So it’s not real, I just make it all up while scrolling through people’s blogs, based on my impression of them. It’s a creative exercise, that’s it. Although if you really think about it, we all have a bit of everything that surrounds us, because it’s all the same energy.
Your aura is the color of banana freckles and flower petals dried in a book.