vanilla raindrops

email: noreia@planet-save.com.

This is my blogchalk:
United States, California, sometimes Steiermark, Austria, something bored teenagers say when they speak useless words into brick walls of cotton candy, English, German, Noreia,creative writing, fiction, reading, college student, strange, cat power, mogwai, arap strap, dresden dolls, white oleander, the earth, my butt, and other big, round things, welcome to the dollhouse, fuckers.

body jewelry by bodyPUNKS!

body jewelry by bodyPUNKS!

body jewelry by BodyPUNKS!

 

today i shoveled a dead cat into a garbage bag.

today i drove to work struggling to keep my eyes open.

today i helped a dreadlocked, yellow-shirted woman from florida find CDs for about 45 minutes, while she had mood swings, alternately snapping at me and thanking me for my help.

today i thought, people all learn the rules to the games we play with each other, the mind tricks, the social conduct that will get you what you want, and for the first time i thought, maybe that's not such a bad thing.  maybe i'm getting the hang of it.  maybe openness and trust isn't the ultimate, the point of all human interaction.

or maybe i'm just becoming jaded.

it's so nice not to care so much about everything, not to be so intense.  i should fucking stop analyzing this or i'll ruin it.  i just like the hazy floaty feeling, enhanced by vodka and vicodin and two hours of sleep a night. 

you know what's beautiful?  the sunshine on one of those long, windy roads in the morning, driving with one hand on the wheel and the other trying to keep the batteries from falling out of my portable tape player. 

and i want a white chocolate mocha.  i'm going to see the phantom of the opera, sit and sip my white chocolate with eyes half open and think nothing, lose myself in the story and the music. 

plastic strawberries

fall on heaving bosoms,

shatter in the dark

michael screamed at a random passing truck driver as spike and i tried to scoop the dead cat, eyes bulging, blood, still warm, into a garbage bag.  "you drive too fucking fast!" he yelled, jumping at the windows, banging on the walls of the truck.  "i'll come after you with my shovel!"

"michael!" we shouted.  "calm down, he's fine!" we shouted.

i was at a bookstore a few days ago and i tried to buy dracula and a mocha but i forgot my wallet.  i told a girl with bright, fire-red hair, "you're hair is freakin' awesome," and she said, "i like yours, too."  i made conversation with the sales assistant because i like talking to people, i like making people smile.

Posted by: noreia at 18:42 | link | comments (2) |