finished. totally.

over two months.

i guess i recommend it.

now first semester is really done.

the purples really compliment each other.

i got this when i guess i landed on my ankle poorly after climbing over and jumping down from the chicken wire fence at st. boniface, over a week ago. i was sitting around and noticed how nice my bruise looked next to my pants. and then i the yellow color reminded me of the yellow tint i discovered earlier today embedded into the cuticles of my first couple of fingers on both hands. yeah, i know what it's from and that's the end of that yellow color, i tell you what.

there be a christmas ghost in the alley.

fuck this winter break and not having a bicycle.

11 am. where am i? i am in bed.

what is that alarm? watch. fuck it, why won't it turn off - PHONE!

it's the phone.

run, try.to.sound.composed.

in my best morning voice, i have been awake for an hour or three and

had my two cups of black tea and one of coffee, oh sure.

"hello."

she's in new york where it is noon.

fuck this wednesday, fuck this winter break, today was is such a fucking bust.

i cut my bangs twenty minutes ago, thus making that the only accomplishment/happening of the day.

resolution for the last ten days of winter break:

don't let this happen again.

if that much holds, i will be having a fine last ten days.

i am not enjoying winter break. it is exactly like the summer that i left when i went to new york in the fall. i need to leave home. i need to break less heart. i need to sleep less.

in loving memory of helen m. porod (1894-2004).

jesus christ, she was one hundred and ten years old.

we climbed the chicken wire.

we smoked cigarettes in st. boniface.

graveyard.

cemetery.

we are on a fast track to hell but you are a secular humanist,

(and i'm sure that's great, but i don't know what it means,)

and i am, well, secular - a heathen. that's nice.

but i found a personal bible. on the sidewalk.

if i keep it in my pocket,

i'm sure it cancels out brushing the snow

off of headstones with my dirty shoes.

i'll take you with me when i get to the heaven i don't believe in.

i'll take you with me when my corpse rots,

when my good organs are plucked out, and my ashes are scattered.

lovers names should have been carved into the tree in the cemetery.

my mind offered to carve our names, but my mouth and hands

didn't have the guts to follow through.

and we're just friends, because that's what we need.

the slashed, deflated and cold,

sidewalk-provided,

i love you

balloon defined the night.

that and the bikini kill song "white boy."

don't laugh don't cry just die.

"culture."

so i bought this beautiful blanket

for 2andahalfdollars yesterday at the salvation army with the intention of turning it into a jacket a la

"pendelton meets opening ceremony"

but better,

because i am

1) able to make it without the flouncy bits which i do not really care for.

2) a real person who can wear my own creations with pride.

3) not a hipster.

4) diy-ed. cheap.

[5) apparently kind of a snob.]

but i'm kind of enjoying it as a blanket. damaged, yes. but pretty.

cut? cut? snip? sew? sew? snip? wear?!

i don't know.

if i confront the issue, and make a jacket, the photos might be up within a few weeks. yeah.