carpet burn
this image sold for $190.00 at the art auction last week. and there are two more commissions that are coming out of it.
i'm moody. i feel a lot of people untying knots that kept me in their harbour. i can see their faces smiling at me sweetly as i drift slowly away from them. as if they're trying to make this less difficult. as if they're trying to deny what they're doing. i guess that's not fair. i guess i'm doing it too. but i can't be the boat and the crew, can i?
i'm moody. my legs hurt. my back hurts. why am i a stupid teenager? why do i stay up late so as to insure myself no sleeping space? why do i have sex on a carpet with a guy who has a girlfriend? (what drama is to come? i hope none. i didn't know? i'm sorry?) WHY DO I HAVE SEX ON A CARPET?! you'd think i'd learn from bad experiences on computer matts... i suppose it's a learning disorder. now there are two burns as large as tamogotchis on my knees, and three on my back. i've had to explain why i can't sit straight, and why i can't bend quickly. oh deary me.
there is so much work. school, art, harveys. yes. don't laugh at me i make money now.
money. i'm on my way to the american dream. do you think Marylin Monroe thought a lot about the american dream? she was married to Arthur Miller, i found out.
i've started to not hear my alarm. i've started to say fuck you to my parents. i've lost interest. i've become too selfish. but i don't care?
my nails are chrome, my hair is fading. i still owe people money. but it'll all wash out, right?
i certainly hope it doesn't scar. i certainly hope i don't have reminders of a night that meant little to nothing to me on my back forever. on my knees forever.
that would blow chunks.