• 2012

    A letter to Damon Albarn: 29 March 2012

    A letter to Damon Albarn: Hi. How are you? I miss you. I miss you and I don’t even know you. I miss you because I saw you only once at your concert in Seattle. I cried the whole time.…

  • 2012

    Who cares? 19 March 2012

    THINGS: Who cares? About anything? How do you care? Futility. How are we to survive? How can I conquer my own irrationality? Slight changes in my mind – hopelessness/despair, then excitement for the future; feelings of doom and that bad…

  • 2015

    Hablando con mi misma: 31 de agosto de 2015

    Estoy hablando con mi misma, como la mayoría de las veces que estoy hablando (de algo que pienso importante). Fumé la resina de mi pipa que había tenido escondida por casi dos años en un libro con el medio sacado,…

  • 2015

    The way he walks: 12 de mayo de 2015

    We walked around the city last night after smoking paraguayo, which still had an earthy, thick smell of real marihuana, and the whole time all I could think about was the way he walks and what it says about his…

  • 2015

    Dim lights and jazz music: 01 de abril de 2015

    Dim lights and jazz music. Today I wanted to be a hippie, a reporter, Buddha; a person with perfect calm confidence and no doubt. You are a person of talent. You, you have got something special. I feel pressured to…

  • 2015

    I wanted to go to El Buen Dios: 05 de marzo de 2015

    I realized I never talked about that night last week at my guy friend’s apartment, when I wanted to go to El Buen Dios, because I’ve been there twice and I don’t remember anything from either time (thanks alcohol), but…

  • 2015

    A guy: 17 de febrero de 2015

    So I got a waitressing job last week for the weekend. Friday, Saturday, Sunday. The guy that called to tell me was the guy I handed my resume to: young, dark hair and skin, thick glasses and a broad smile,…

  • 2015

    Otra lista de vibras: 10 de febrero de 2015

    Other people’s wrong assumptions, the silence boredom brings, vibes of safety and security sprouting from my mother’s written words, tobacco in a soggy pouch under my upper lip, cool air after the rain, water collected in the ashtrays on the…

  • 2015

    Sitting on the patio alone: 28 de enero de 2015

    Sitting on the patio alone in the shade with a lukewarm coffee. Today is sunny but there’s a luxurious cool breeze rustling the hair on my arms and whisking away any negative thoughts that flicker into being. Such as the…