2 all da h8erzz

\

rn the only h8er that I know of

is myself,

as I sit here eating seasalt and vinegar chips

singing along to foxy shazam

instead of doing my work.

i

hate

myself

and

want

to

die

Nightmusic.

 If I could dress this way every day, I would.

But then again some days you just have to put on

your ridic heels

and go shake your ass at your tacky school dance.

I wish this was me.
I miss you and I know it's the worst thing

to be doing to myself, especially with

THREE RESEARCH PAPERS,
ONE PRESENTATION/REPORT,

AND TWO EXAMS TO STUDY FOR!!!

GUNNING HARD FOR DEC 18 CAUSE I WILL BE
ON DA PLANE TO ORLANDO!!!! eepepeppee

If there was a way to navigate your seas.

THEIR BEAUTIFUL SETLIST:

Mae

The '59 Sound

The Diamond Church Street Choir

Handwritten

Here Comes My Man

Miles Davis and the Cool

Desire

Biloxi Parish

Angry Johnny and the Radio (Snippet of "Blood Bank" by Bon Iver)

45

Halloween (Live Debut)

Film Noir

State of Love and Trust (Pearl Jam cover)

The Patient Ferris Wheel

Too Much Blood

The Queen of Lower Chelsea

Here's Looking at You, Kid

Howl

Great Expectations

Encore:

She Loves You

Mulholland Drive

American Slang

Keepsake

1930

Blue Dahlia

The Backseat (Snippet of "Just Like Heaven" by The Cure)

Lord Knows.

I think I'm calming down about alejandr0

and I'm glad for it.
BUT ANOTHER THING IS DRIVING ME NUTS,

SCHOOL AKA THE FINAL CIRCLE OF HELL
WHERE SATAN SITS FROZEN UP TO HIS DICK
IN ICE, I LEARNED THIS
DURING DANTE'S INFERNO IN LIT CLASS.

So much shit to be done in 2+ weeks.

But then it's LATER PEASANTS,

hitting up the harry potter theme park in orlando,

then back to T farm for christmas + seeing

THE STARTING LINE,

then up to NYC biatch, for New Year's with bb QX,

and possibly to NJ to hang out with Jen 干

then possibly to Montreal to see this stupid kid

with the stupid face

that I stupidly like ughhhh.

SO MANY CAPS.

ARGHHHH

FUCK THE COLD.

FUCK THE COLD.

I got a super sweet LL Bean peacoat for $30 yesterday though,

and it usually retails for like 200.

Baby, you know the rest.

Yeaaaow I'm freezing and I didn't dare turn off
one of the lamps downstairs cause I saw
a piece of paper on my grandma's front door

and maybe it's a note from a serial killer saying

that they're going to kill me once I go to bed

and I'd rather not know.

I have done NO work this thanksgiving break.
I am gonna be dying slowly and painfully

the next three weeks.

 LOOK AT THIS.
WINTER IS HERE BITCHES AND THERE
IS NOWHERE TO HIDE EXCEPT IN
YOUR BED, CRYING.

I'm seeing gaslight on monday and all my dreams

are coming true.

Even cowgirls get the blues.

wow you guys I think I'll be gaining even more

weight than last year because of the amount

of shit I'm consuming + the crazy drinking that

I'm doing,
especially since it's thanksgiving week
and then three weeks later it's winter break
plus IT'S FUCKING FREEZING OUTSIDE,
YOU CRAZY KIDS, WHY ARE YOU JOGGING IN SHORTS
 but anyway

it's just weight.

Gaining weight/fat/flab is not a

personal failing ya'll,

don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Your body is a body that serves you well.

You are healthy and strong

so fuck all that noise.

Never waking up, but barely asleep.

It's my job to keep up this melancholy,
longing for something
that never established itself to be
anything other than
a warm body some nights
and sporadic hellos.

First comes the cold and then the sleet and the snow
and night takes over the light-times
and sadness is normalcy,
anything else is a surprising variation.

The end is nowhere in sight.

I know you'll take me in when I cave and ask,
and then we'll volley so violently
from heady nights of too much tequila and cider,
of skin on skin and lips on lips
and little sleep,
back to the biting feeling
of never being needed back.

Baby, it's cold outside.

Jen and I went to the sushi buffet at yamato

and it was so much more enjoyable this time

cause I wasn't on the verge of puking/hiding

leftover sushi in my pockets to throw out later.

Just looking at this picture makes me wanna cry,

it is so glorious.

Why the fuck is it snowing already guys.

 I forgot to tell ya'll that I'm a satanist now~

You don't have to be alone at all.

Wow, I really need to calm the fuck down cause

the dude showed.

HE SHOWED YA'LL.

Yeah, I was so disbelieving too.

But now I'm kind of flung back into this weird,

what is this, what do I do mode.

He also drove when there was a

freaking hurricane warning.

We saw Henry Rollins and ate whole pints of ice cream

while walking around after the hurricane

and ate Chinese food.
It's the weirdest feeling of contentment waking up

next to Alejandro.
Pity I won't see him for a few more months, again.

Saturday nights are for drinking rum and feeling sad

and I guess that's okay.

The problem is that I always wait til Sunday

to do real things and I get STRESSED as fuck.
Did nothing except attempt to play night

quidditch and TV party with Brett.

Baby it's cold outside.

We're gonna play no matter what they say.

Wow, I really miss my friends back home.

Be a body.

Maybe I'd stop obsessing about boys who don't

call me anymore, boys who only flirt

with possibility and promise,

boys who appreciate my body and my mind, yes,

but in that order,

and manage to finagle my heart into the deal.

Yeah, maybe I'd stop if

Ezra Miller gave me a call.

 There are a million girls in Montreal,

so maybe you should stop fucking with me if

I'm never going to see you again.

I'm living on the moon.

Wow I don't know why I try sometimes.

Take me away from people and emotions and

making an effort and maintaining some semblance of being okay.

Edit:

Stupid 8-page paper is done (it's actually like seven and a quarter)

and I have enough time to sleep for six and a half hours but I'm just

looking at this stupid fool's face on fb, stupid before bed ritual.

We keep having these talks that he doesn't want to have

and I am just aching for something like reciprocation.

He offers up facts like: he hasn't been with anyone since me,

and that's a good one month there, but then he was drunk

when he told me this and

I guess this negates it. It doesn't mean anything,

he said, there are no intentions behind his actions.

I wish there were.

Why would you let me have

some hope for significance there?

I know your type, well-meaning but flaky,

self-preserving, indulgent.

I know the effect of you on me, how I would

do most anything if you would only

ask it of me.

I think I should let a week or two pass.

I've made hundreds of mistakes and peace with dying in my sleep

Stop letting me down.
I thought you were so cool.

Doo doo doo, we're like fish in the sea.

I've been making valiant attempts not to seem too needy

or read too much into this but

I've had to restrain myself,

sign out of fb chat,

to avoid that little green bubble that meant

I would spend the next five minutes wracking my brains

for something, anything, to say

that would draw you into conversation,

but then of course by then I see the tiny cellphone icon,

meaning that you were off the grid.

I miss you.

Do I even know you?

What I do know is the way you look when you sleep,

the face you have on when you tease me

and chase me down as I make to run away,

the silent way I offer my back to you

and you automatically pull me in close,

arms settling around me.

The way you drive (recklessly, angry).

The way you like to kiss.

The ridiculous amount of tattoos you have.

The way you look when you realize that you're drunk.

The way you say my name.

I'm a resilient bastard.

I like that we both can be okay doing our own thing.
I mean, we're not dating or anything, so it

goes without saying that there's nothing "official".

But god, nighttime is fucking difficult,

I'm not going to lie.

I like someone taking care of me,

looking out for me,

not being scared of affection,

listening to me,

making fun of me,

talking to me,

kissing me.

Jesus, why are you so far away.

Needed this shirt today.

The Summer Ends.

SCHOOL SCHOOL SCHOOL COLLEGE COLLEGE
COLLEGE EMERSON EMERSON BOSTON COLLEGE
EMERSON LITTLE BUILDING BOSTON SCHOOL
SCHOOL.

A Kiss A Week.

I wake up to a shrill noise, and realize that it's my cellphone,

whose ringtone I have neglected to program because

I'm awaiting its replacement in the mail. A number's listed,

I don't have it saved in my address book. I hesitate, but only

to ask myself, "really, who else could it be?

It's 4 in the morning."

"Hello?"

"...is this Taina?" Nobody else says my name that way.

"Why didn't you tell me this was your US number?"

I stumble around in the dark, and head downstairs,

out into the crisp cool air. The sky is

so so blue, a deep dark velvet.

You're extra sweet when you're drunk. It allows me, too,

to be extra vulnerable and ask "so why can't you

come see me this weekend?"and of course, it's work, I already

know the answer, but then I get to hear "Believe me, I want

nothing more than to drop everything, and go to you now."

You're walking home, of course. You always walk

when you're drunk - "why would I take a cab

when I can talk to you this way?"

At some point, I accidentally hang up on you

with my ear, and I call you back quickly

to get a "hello Massachusetts".

I head back in, giggling and whispering, because I'm getting cold.

"Do you tip in Boston?"

"Of course I do. You have to. I don't have to tip at home though."

"Do you tip based on service or their attractiveness?"

"...I tip everyone the same."

"Would you tip me if I served you? Would you also

leave your number? Cause I would definitely call you."

Kid...you're a drunkard and a slut.

You told me about getting bottle service at the bar, again,

pausing to say the name of the place in French

(okay, I still get sort of swoony when you do this),

and tell me about the vegetarian sushi/dim sum place you went to for dinner.

"ugh that sounds perfect."

"I'm going to take you out to dinner. All you

have to do is say the word."

"What is the word, exactly? I always feel

weird about that phrase."

"The word is... Alex, I want to eat Moroccan food.

Alex, I want to eat Japanese food.

Alex, I want to eat Indian food..."

You went off on this tangent for a bit.

"Taina, you're nice."

"Nice? Nice is boring."

"No, nice...as in, I would want to hang out with you.

I could have you in my bed -" my mouth gaped open involuntarily

"- and we could just be watching tv and it'll be fine, you know?"

A little liquor helps pave the way to romance, right? 

I can't remember what you said, but I scoffed

and you asked, a bit anxious, "what, you regret meeting me?" 

"No. No, I'm really happy I met you."

"That's good, because so am I."

You were mumbling now, getting softer and softer.

You promised to call me right back, but I

knew better, and texted you goodnight.

I need to see you soon.

4am calls were okay when I was

in a time zone that was exactly 12 hours different. 

Now it just makes me feel alone and sad

when I have to go back to sleep after we hang up.

Say goodnight, sleep alone.

As the moon becomes the night time, you go viciously, quietly away.

Hi guys.

This bearface is back in the USA right now,

just hanging out in Duxbury until Sunday,

when I move back to Boston for school.

Really bummed cause Montreal in fact has to work

this Sunday + Monday, hence I will not be seeing

him before school starts, as I thought.

Which sucks major ballzz but what to do? The boy

has to make that paper.

He also promised to visit sometime in September,

and if that doesn't/does work out,

I'm going to try to head down my birthday weekend.

Here's some shit that I thrifted/ got in the mail today.
Hot air balloon backpack: $7
Black nightdress thing: $9
Dress: $6
Black slingbag: $5

DROP DEAD SWEATER!!!!1!!!1 yes muthafucka