at someone else's house alone, laundering, watching, and drinking (wish you were here)
It's day one of two off for me. I decided I'd bite the bullet and call sammy's parents and see if they'd let me do some laundry. Just my luck I got the answering machine so I ended up talking to that and then Sam's ma (Lorna) called me back and said that "yes" it was okay if I came over and washed some clothes. With that in mind I told her I'd be over in a couple hours, read some more, gathered up my laundry and stuff (including the latest book i'm reading, "Liquor" by Poppy Z. Brite), smoked the last of my pot, and headed for their house, packed to the gills with laundry, on my back and in my hand, as much as possible. I arrived to smiles and soda-lime drinks, friendly questioning, and television. Of course t.v. is evil and hypnotic but sometimes you're just feeling, well, in need of some evil, or wanting to be hypnotized, y'know? *shrugs*
Of course I managed to get in on some sweet sammy's parents' dinner which was Buffalo steaks, potatoes, and salad and oysters for those who wanted them. mmmmmm....mmmmmmm....DAMN I love eating here, makes me glad to be alive and dating sam *giggle* But of course I am on no shortage of reasons to be in love with Sammy sunshine punk rock secret agent lover of mine.No shortage.
He's out of town right now. On tour with his band. Since he was gone right before Shambhala I managed to actually build some sort of tolerance for his absence. Initially, I went fucking craaazy. When he was gone volunteering for shambhala I bawled my eyes out, felt insanely bored and lonely annd complained like maaad. This time I'm taking it in stride. Of course I miss him to death but I'm not gonna beat myself to death about it because that really won't help much or shorten the time he's gone.
So yeah, that's where I'm at right now, sitting at sammy's rents' place, full of good food, listening to the whirl and hum of the dryer, waiting for my clothes to be done, taking the last sip of the last beer, gonna maybe look for some wine....
Thinking about Sammy and Shambhala memories, sweet moments of fucked up-ed-ness, youth and glowstick glory, pumping bass, doubling over with euphoria, and wishing Sammy was just here to fuck me. I miss his smile, his laugh and his angles, the faces he makes when he's playing guitar or making love, putting on movies to go to bed, being connected at the hip, and just everything that's been going on lately.....
I can't wait to see him tomorrow night. He makes me feel fucking right.
He makes me feel. Something.
Shambhala was, in a huge pile of fucking words, crazy + free, muddy and drugged out but chaotically fun, sexy, and so-in-the-moment. I am a definite shambhala convert and *will* be going next year come hell or high water. I'll have to tell more shambhala stories but needless to say I had a blast, did a ton of partying, a decent amount of dancing, and roughed it out with sammy and our friends, coming out of it with deeper friendships, hearing damage, and stories to tell for a while.
I'd write more but I really have to pee so on that demented note....
I shall sign off. Gonna finish the laundry, go take back the dvds, get some slurpee maybe, read read read. Write some letters, think about Sammy love, write myself to sleep, be grateful of the sky above, dream and wish and hope for hugs to wake me tomorrow morning.
*riot on, kids*
xoxoxoxo <3 Ashley.
Of course I managed to get in on some sweet sammy's parents' dinner which was Buffalo steaks, potatoes, and salad and oysters for those who wanted them. mmmmmm....mmmmmmm....DAMN I love eating here, makes me glad to be alive and dating sam *giggle* But of course I am on no shortage of reasons to be in love with Sammy sunshine punk rock secret agent lover of mine.No shortage.
He's out of town right now. On tour with his band. Since he was gone right before Shambhala I managed to actually build some sort of tolerance for his absence. Initially, I went fucking craaazy. When he was gone volunteering for shambhala I bawled my eyes out, felt insanely bored and lonely annd complained like maaad. This time I'm taking it in stride. Of course I miss him to death but I'm not gonna beat myself to death about it because that really won't help much or shorten the time he's gone.
So yeah, that's where I'm at right now, sitting at sammy's rents' place, full of good food, listening to the whirl and hum of the dryer, waiting for my clothes to be done, taking the last sip of the last beer, gonna maybe look for some wine....
Thinking about Sammy and Shambhala memories, sweet moments of fucked up-ed-ness, youth and glowstick glory, pumping bass, doubling over with euphoria, and wishing Sammy was just here to fuck me. I miss his smile, his laugh and his angles, the faces he makes when he's playing guitar or making love, putting on movies to go to bed, being connected at the hip, and just everything that's been going on lately.....
I can't wait to see him tomorrow night. He makes me feel fucking right.
He makes me feel. Something.
Shambhala was, in a huge pile of fucking words, crazy + free, muddy and drugged out but chaotically fun, sexy, and so-in-the-moment. I am a definite shambhala convert and *will* be going next year come hell or high water. I'll have to tell more shambhala stories but needless to say I had a blast, did a ton of partying, a decent amount of dancing, and roughed it out with sammy and our friends, coming out of it with deeper friendships, hearing damage, and stories to tell for a while.
I'd write more but I really have to pee so on that demented note....
I shall sign off. Gonna finish the laundry, go take back the dvds, get some slurpee maybe, read read read. Write some letters, think about Sammy love, write myself to sleep, be grateful of the sky above, dream and wish and hope for hugs to wake me tomorrow morning.
*riot on, kids*
xoxoxoxo <3 Ashley.