i cheated, anyway
day one: i hate fruit day.
today, i went to the mechanic and the farmer's market with my father. caitlin came over for a bit. i watched young people fucking and two episodes of jeopardy. my dislike for my mother grew, because i hate the way she looks at me and speaks to me and apparently thinks of me. i decided to learn how to play the guitar. i'm not very musically inclined, you know. i got an internship. unpaid but pretty much exactly what i want to be doing in life, and the guy seems really nice and the dog in the office is amazing and maybe it will turn into a paying gig, who knows? for now i'm just stoked on that, waiting to hear back from starbucks, and wishing it was vegetable day.
to go backwards feels suffocating: i saw away we go which was escapist fare, but delicate and well played escapist fare. maybe gravity would have been cliche, maybe it would have been helpful. i also watched a documentary called red without blue which had a similar kind of delicateness, a similar kind of distance from the real meat of its characters. aliza and i went to the library, and then sat by the pool and read. weeds referenced van nuys a million times, and is so silly these days, but i have nothing better to do. i spent fourth of july in hunnington beach with ucla kids, very nice kids. private fireworks show. july third party lived up to its legacy. looking through archives of emails and video correspondences from last summer causes me the most acute and incurable sadness. (i have been doing this. a lot.) last night, i dreamt aliza and i crawled from the ocean, my tattoo burned and she held me on the sand as i curled up to protect my pregnant belly, and then the sand was a great egyptian museum and we stood on surreally tall platforms over each other. i fell asleep last night to peter pan being read aloud.
today, i went to the mechanic and the farmer's market with my father. caitlin came over for a bit. i watched young people fucking and two episodes of jeopardy. my dislike for my mother grew, because i hate the way she looks at me and speaks to me and apparently thinks of me. i decided to learn how to play the guitar. i'm not very musically inclined, you know. i got an internship. unpaid but pretty much exactly what i want to be doing in life, and the guy seems really nice and the dog in the office is amazing and maybe it will turn into a paying gig, who knows? for now i'm just stoked on that, waiting to hear back from starbucks, and wishing it was vegetable day.
to go backwards feels suffocating: i saw away we go which was escapist fare, but delicate and well played escapist fare. maybe gravity would have been cliche, maybe it would have been helpful. i also watched a documentary called red without blue which had a similar kind of delicateness, a similar kind of distance from the real meat of its characters. aliza and i went to the library, and then sat by the pool and read. weeds referenced van nuys a million times, and is so silly these days, but i have nothing better to do. i spent fourth of july in hunnington beach with ucla kids, very nice kids. private fireworks show. july third party lived up to its legacy. looking through archives of emails and video correspondences from last summer causes me the most acute and incurable sadness. (i have been doing this. a lot.) last night, i dreamt aliza and i crawled from the ocean, my tattoo burned and she held me on the sand as i curled up to protect my pregnant belly, and then the sand was a great egyptian museum and we stood on surreally tall platforms over each other. i fell asleep last night to peter pan being read aloud.