more monroe than onassis.

over 12 hours at work today. breaking up fights, colouring...

Tue, 15 Dec 2009 21:47:53 +1100

over 12 hours at work today.
breaking up fights, colouring houses and grade six farewell.
it’s times like this when i really need a shower, im losing my voice and i have been repeating myself all day when i still sit back and think: i love my job.
it’s the end of the school year tomorrow. im going to miss those kids.

christmas presents are more fun when you make them.

Sun, 13 Dec 2009 22:16:13 +1100

christmas presents are more fun when you make them.

Photo

Sun, 13 Dec 2009 22:13:53 +1100

there is a manthat used to be a boy i knewhe’s now swollen around themiddlehis hair is thinhis...

Sun, 13 Dec 2009 09:58:33 +1100

there is a man
that used to be a boy i knew
he’s now swollen around the
middle
his hair is thin
his eyes look the same
he reads a book about
snakes and venom
and keeps stealing looks at me
i know he recognises me
i can tell he remembers me
sixteen and ripe
with bubblegum lips
but i just drink wine
and stare through him
with no energy
for pleasant words.

happy birthday curt.so much love, the other erin-louise.

Sun, 13 Dec 2009 09:05:36 +1100

happy birthday curt.
so much love,
the other erin-louise.

i am not sleeping,just finding letters that i buried in the roof of my mouth.i wrote them all for...

Sun, 13 Dec 2009 00:11:48 +1100

i am not sleeping,
just finding letters that i buried in the roof of my mouth.
i wrote them all for you.
im running heartbeats up like phonebills, but it’s all in the name of something that im not even sure i am capable of feeling anymore.
i lay in my bed and nurse my churning guts.
love, i think.
who the fuck knows anything about love?

so i thought i’d put itunes on shuffle while i cleaned my house. i never usually do this as i...

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 21:46:00 +1100

so i thought i’d put itunes on shuffle while i cleaned my house. i never usually do this as i tend to be quite the music nazi. it’s saturday night - i thought i’d go wild. live life on the edge. this is what i got:
the old account - johnny cash
mexican seafood - nirvana
romeo a go-go - every time i die
sugar coated sour - dillinger escape plan
i thought, hey. this is pretty awesome.
then. out of nowhere.
the friends theme.
i laughed my ass off. apparently i have a whole series of tv theme songs on itunes. this is amazing. im taking the reigns! it’s inspector gadget then who’s the boss.
my saturday in just got a whole lot more awesome.

ps. and! and! to make it even more rad, im right in the middle of making a mixed tape for my best friend. guess who’s getting a cd full of obscure tv theme songs?

"from my bed i watch 3 birds on a telephone wire. one flies off. then another. one is left,..."

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 18:40:56 +1100

“from my bed
i watch
3 birds
on a telephone
wire.
one flies
off.
then
another.
one is left,
then
it too
is gone.
my typewriter is
tombstone
still.
and i am
reduced to bird
watching.
just thought i’d
let you
know,
fucker.”

- 8 count - charles bukowski.

(via vanitykills—-) i want this. immediately.

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 18:33:41 +1100

(via vanitykills—-)

i want this. immediately.

in mirrors and in the tub. that’s the only places you’ll feel safe anymore. don’t...

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 18:19:44 +1100

in mirrors and in the tub. that’s the only places you’ll feel safe anymore. don’t rush rituals, they will distract you from what a bad girl you’ve been. but inbetween, you’ll go mad with it. every time he reaches down to touch you. your heart will swell and drain until it hurts at the tiniest things, like unanswered phone calls and blank stares. you will wash your dishes in boiling water, you’ll grit your teeth until you feel like your skull will split, until you feel like you’re being punished enough. this is not a life i’d choose for anyone, but now you’re in it there is no way to erase. just keep measuring your breaths and your pound of flesh that you’ll leave for him when you walk out the door. there is nothing beautiful in this. make no mistake, this is your war. but the unfaithful are born for a reason. just dont be so scared that you cannot see yours.

maybe you’re not even sure what it’s for any more...

Fri, 11 Dec 2009 23:44:10 +1100

maybe you’re not even sure what it’s for any more than me.

i am the patron saint of the unfaithful, and here we are to rock your boat. happy homes leave us dry...

Fri, 11 Dec 2009 23:32:55 +1100

i am the patron saint of the unfaithful, and here we are to rock your boat. happy homes leave us dry and toothless, we’re just wolves feeding at your door. dont try to step over our bodies, one wrong step and you’re left for dead. baby dont pretend like you didn’t want this, dont pretend like you dont hunger for my mouth. i keep my heart by my bedside so i dont lose it when i go down with the ship, i am nothing but a siren song. nothing but an animal. the more i repeat this, the more i know. you’re trying to pry open my ribs and let this love leak, but im stronger than this. im stronger than you.
god forbid i lose footing.
god forbid i hold hope.

the kids aren’t the only ones who coloured all day.i love...

Fri, 11 Dec 2009 16:29:22 +1100

the kids aren’t the only ones who coloured all day.
i love my job.

im going to try to sleep.feel free to leave me thoughts/secrets/questions here.it’s my...

Fri, 11 Dec 2009 01:02:11 +1100

im going to try to sleep.

feel free to leave me thoughts/secrets/questions here.
it’s my favourite thing to wake up to.

i was going to re-read high fidelity (again, over and over) but i got lazy and just watched the film...

Fri, 11 Dec 2009 00:06:57 +1100

i was going to re-read high fidelity (again, over and over) but i got lazy and just watched the film instead. luckily, i appreciate both. i blame summer. the heat makes me lazy.

crookedindifference: (via nedhepburn) Meat Puppets - Oh...

Thu, 10 Dec 2009 23:53:00 +1100

crookedindifference:

(via nedhepburn)

Meat Puppets - Oh Me

ohhh my goodness.
i used to try to play this song on guitar and sing in my ‘best’ riot grrl register when i was about sixteen, wearing way too much eyeliner and lace for a girl that age. ha. what a nerd.

found this outta nowhere.fuck. we were so young.

Thu, 10 Dec 2009 23:20:22 +1100

found this outta nowhere.
fuck. we were so young.

i am sick of this dance we pull each other through. we make the motions and mouth the words until...

Thu, 10 Dec 2009 22:34:38 +1100

i am sick of this dance we pull each other through. we make the motions and mouth the words until the other blacks out. i run lead over paper and through guts. i walk away from safe bets because i’ll only end up poisoning their hearts too. but you, you’re a liar just like me. maybe this is why i keep asking, why i keep saying yes to the same tired question. because i know that you will never show up at my door asking me for more.
i keep a close watch on this heart of mine.

i think of all the ways i want to blame you, for all the ways i’ve lost this heart.

Thu, 10 Dec 2009 20:31:57 +1100

i think of all the ways i want to blame you, for all the ways i’ve lost this heart.

i found this in an old notebook. i wrote this long before we stopped being each other’s whole...

Thu, 10 Dec 2009 18:08:00 +1100

i found this in an old notebook. i wrote this long before we stopped being each other’s whole hearts, long before she died.
i have four more stories like this.
i don’t know what story i was trying to tell anymore.
i don’t know who i was talking to.

i stand barefoot on a wednesday night, my feet sticking to the linoleum of her kitchen floor, the sweet burn of apple schnapps in the back of my throat. apple schnapps and something else is stuck there too. not sure just yet. two fingers on a cigarette, one hand steadying her head. we don’t talk much, just listen to the mechanical noise of black clippers cutting close to her scalp. i brush her neck and cheeks clean of the tiny lines of hair that decorate them. her hair hangs where i’ve left it, a thick dark line down the centre of her skull. we finish the cheap liquor as she uses boot polish to make her hair stand straight. ten inches, a killer ’hawk. i tell her she looks like brody dalle and she smiles with all her teeth. there is no stain of why her hair went. no question of cancer. just triumph and cheap laughs that last into the early hours of thursday.
by night, we’re walking into our bar, she’s wearing that ten inches like a badge of honour. we start by slamming back vodka rocks, crowding onto bar stools. she’s not sick and i’m not already lonely, already sick at the thought of ever being without her. i can’t remember much, just a flash in a petrol station parking lot as we take a photo of ourselves. it’s all i have left of that night, two girls small and pale with blacked out eyes. we’re as tough as leather, pressed against the service station wall, bearing our teeth. nothing could stop us.
by friday morning, they’ve lost me. she calls leigh when she wakes up alone, asks where i am. he doesn’t know, he’s surprised that she could ever lose me.
pieces get told and the night gets sewn back together.
she’s yelling at me, i’m yelling back and giving her house keys. there’s lipsticks on her shower floor and she has strange cuts lined up over her feet. i’m being pushed on my back in the middle of a football field and walking barefoot through the city streets, waking up in a bed with an empty heart when he puts an arm over me. we find ourselves back together at six that night, the university bar. i catch a taxi there after spending the day having my name repeated by a starry-eyed lover. i walk in, red shiny heels making gunshots. it’s still daylight, i still look like yesterday and there’s a cacophony of cat calls. she’s leading the chorus, and it’s funny because it’s her. she’s drunk, skipping class, missing me. i fall into her and i’m home.
for months, it always went that way. drink til black, fall over on ourselves or another. but nothing mattered til we were back hip to hip. nothing mattered. no cancer, no lovers, no lies.

it was just us. sharing stories of blackouts and breakdowns and smoking, one for one.