im back at the apartment in san jose. gonna pack up the rest of whats left here. im smoking. im breathing. im thinking. im processing. im maturing. im still avoiding punctuation in these things. im so glad i called you kaity because...my anger just comes in bursts. i think that i can blow it all up on the person im angry at...but really i just need to talk to a friend. im realizing this more. i dont need to repress it, i dont need to try and calm myself down, to "sleep on it." sleeping on anger seems uncomfortable. ouch anger, you're kicking me off the bed. god damn anger why do you take all my pillows? im crazy. i know it. but its good sometimes. its alllll good right? people say that. it's all good.
ive had so many interesting conversations lately.
yesterday i looked over at you when you happened to be looking at me too. as timing would have it, the lyrics of the song sang of love. but my mind is elsewhere. my heart is beating in many kinds of directions. i will be going to new places soon. to where i never thought i'd go. to be the impulsively idiotic romantic i always knew i was. oh but romance, that makes me nervous. romance implies love and...love implies...what? hurt, pain, ice cream and extra pounds, chemicals released, sweat produced, thoughts scrambled, sleepy eyes, smiles that burn, memories painted in brighter colors. it's all good.

this is crazy! i need to stay up pretty much all night to finish everything i have to do. but. i dont think i could sleep anyway.

you run from too many people
i run to too many

ENOUGH!

say something

"Relationships don't work they way they do on television and in the movies. Will they? Won't they? And then they finally do, and they're happy forever. Gimme a break. Nine out of ten of them end because they weren't right for each other to begin with, and half of the ones who get married get divorced anyway, and I'm telling you right now, through all this stuff I have not become a cynic. I haven't. Yes, I do happen to believe that love is mainly about pushing chocolate covered candies and, y'know, in some cultures, a chicken. You can call me a sucker, I don't care, because I do...believe in it. Bottom line is couples who are truly right for each other wade through the same crap as everybody else, but the big difference is they don't let it take them down. One of those two people will stand up and fight for that relationship every time. If it's right, and they're real lucky, one of them will say something."

shit

i lost my phone
doing fun and irresponsible things
im not the most sad about not being able to get texts
that tell me to call people
or call people to tell them to text me
im sad because
there were videos on there
that i shouldnt be watching anyway
one when it was the beginning
and issues were yet to surface
i laugh and i kiss the air
because on the other side its you there
when you wrestled the dog on the floor
when we jumped up and down
naked parts flying around
you sleeping solid and sound
but i'll buy a new phone
things change i guess

black cat

my mother tells me youre having trouble eating
but i scratch your ears and you sound like younger years
you're my favorite
so i tell you "you can't grow old, you can't grow old"
but my mother listening says, "all things do"
and on her i see refined lines and grayer hairs
that i dont want to see
i grow tired but i flicker bright
i sweep my hand over your fur
and i tell you how much i love you
because all things may know the rules of time
but my love knows not the date of bones
it will scratch your ears as long as you like

.Laura Curren.

facebook!
and myspace
and my face
in tons of pictures
tag me tag me
text me the address
send me a pic of u honey
disregard grammar
im enamored
with your typing
im gonna download
everything i own
check my inbox
reset my passwords
check this check this
bright blinding banner
lose 10 lbs in one week
hot and sexy locals
waiting for you!
masturbating for you!
take this survey.
free free absofuckinglutely free!
congratulations you've won!
ipod (cant) touch (this)
go read a macbook
why dont you go blog off
fall off a cliff note
set to private
im changing our relationship status
we need a break technology,
its not you, its us.

silly goose

His name was Freddy. He had droopy eyes, a sharp, freckled nose, and the nervous habit of sucking his bottom lip with his enormous front teeth. He was awkwardly tall amongst the first graders, and often hung his neck and slumped his shoulders, appearing as a vulture in profile. It was hard for five and six year old eyes not to examine him, although it was clear by his silence that he preferred to be unexamined. For the most part then, he was willingly ignored, except for one day, when all the attention would be on him.
For every character like Freddy, there is a character like Amy. She had a cruelly cute face and long eyelashed eyes that reflected that she knew this. She was an insidious pageant queen, but she was beautiful and always had gummy bears in her lunch, so naturally, I wanted to be her friend. Most girls vied for her attention and favor. Just as the class would go out to the field to play duck-duck-goose, she seemed to select her next best friend in the same manner. I had been chosen to be a goose. I did not know though, that this decision also meant I would be the subject of jokes and pranks.
I was sick one afternoon, and in my absence, Amy had devised a scheme behind those shining blue eyes. She crafted a note that was as romantic as a first grader could concieve, and artfully signed my name and my affections with it. She promptly delivered this confession to Freddy. I can only imagine the waves of giggles in the classroom. So the next day when I returned to school, I did not understand the sudden attention, the impish glances and smiles towards my direction, the hushed voices when I came near. When I felt Freddy staring at me from across the cafeteria table and heard Amy screech in delight, I knew something was not right. I looked back at him, teeth protruding over his lip, and I asked Amy and others around me what was so absolutely exciting that I did not know about. Amy was proud of her tricks and she happily burst out : “I wrote Freddy a love letter as you!”
“Why did you do that?!” I shrieked.
She shrugged her shoulders. Duck, duck, goose.

application

can you tolerate hurricanes of the bedroom kind?
are onions a problem? black licorice? you'll be tasting them.
do you test your lungs on your favorite song?
do you hate being told youre wrong?
can you apologize
are you a dreamer day and night
do you believe in love even when it falls on its side
are you capable of laughing at yourself and me laughing at you laughing at yourself
how spicy is spicy
do you like to make out despite high toxicity levels of breath
wanna have sex even when im sick?
can you handle me? whatever pop stars mean by that.
do you demand more bed than there is supplied
can you carry my affections equally, not too little, not too much
know how to drive my car? you'll be driving it
looking to expand your music collection and share yours?
can you tolerate my lack of labeling
will you save me when im feeling dramatic
will you go to far away lands and close couches with me?
can we blow smoke all over the stars
can we dance in sweaty situations
are you open to waking up early in the best possible way
mind if i put my legs there?
can you appreciate absurdly cute dogs who might eat your possessions?
do your possessions eat you?
will you set aside technology for flesh
are you not afraid to get stuck in your own head,
and can i meet you in there?

did you read all of this

i just cant explain this shit at all, i believe in people like you

Great Expectations

"That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But, it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been. Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day."

your words are not my friend

you are so malicious without realizing sometimes
your lips arch in points and stab back at me
they snap before i even spit
but i dont adhere to this kind of artillery
i put up my hands
but dont let them move
i dont add gasoline to your arguments
so you'll just burn out, exhausted
with a smoky vision and tired lungs
and nothing left of me in your path

"Life is like a girlfriend; demanding and I'm deeply in love with it."

why cant i be more angry? not in general...just about this situation. is this some kind of subconscious message to myself? maybe ive been kicked to the curb one too many times.

"you should try being more angry with him"

but im not trying...im just being...this is me. this is my heart. my mind. my soul....whatever that is. my arms are perpetually open, even when they're crossed. i dont think life is for crossing arms. i keep em open because its possible that they might wrap around all ive ever wanted

im open, im free, people are starting to see

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