i first knew one of my boyfriends wouldnt be in my life forever when i told him i might be pregnant and he quickly let go of my hand. not just let go but he threw it in the air. this juvenile relationship fucked me up forever. since then i have made small attempts to reach out and tell people that i care. before falling off the edge and during moments of clarity. these attemps were poor. i wasnt scared of most things except what i preceived to be the most dangerous thing. the human condition. the thing that everyone seemed to possess and that i wanted to lose somewhere at a shopping mall. unfortunatley it has found me now. and i care. i care about the friendships that i kicked away because i was hurt by them. or the sound of amtrak trains going into penn station and only being able to think to myself "damn that gets annoying" instead of once in a while saying it out loud. contrary to this i wont get a roomate. why am i telling you all of this? because now im painfully lonely and because there are stories i have not told you. i should save them if i go. im having some doubts. i dont know why. traveling is supposed to put things into perspective right? something internal and weird always happens when i travel. i come back to new york dreading the first step off the airplane.
there is wax all over the place. my painting is almost all wax. i melted it in a crock pot. i have been secretly smoking in my bathroom. i am in highschool
the new yorker turned off its lights im going to pretend you did that.