but not me

some are engaged. some are married. some are married with children. some have love children. some are still in school. some got the job they went to school for. some moved back home. some are working in restaurants. some are drug addicts.

the only life I want is my own.

competency award please

i went to the hospital today for a physical for my work permit. they took my blood. only to check for syphilis. I really don't think the woman who took my blood should be around needles. i don't think she could see well plus she had Parkinson's. fuck my poor arm. i haven't taken many medical classes but i know enough that it should not be swollen and blue around my vein. and pain is usually bad.

Cracks in the kitchen, suitcases on the porch.

A lot of things were different when i returned. My window was broken and the graffiti on the wall said “Go Home”. But I was home, wasn’t I? Was my language lost? Were my lungs broken? Had my mind hardened? My tooth loosened? Did I leave my heart at one of those doctors? Uptown, downtown, some town somewhere along the way the long way there? Things change. There’s nothing in those suitcases, it’s all in the cracks.


I feel that if I go back that I will just go back in time and I will be sitting at the table in the small classroom with the studio art majors eating candy and learning about mounting pictures sitting beside Allison and Sherina and accidentally kicking Joel, wondering what in the world Ives is thinking. That I will just be walking to my car in the parking garage. That I will be sitting in Ives's basement with the bright spotlights on, wearing my green t-shirt waiting as he took pictures of me. That I will be sitting at my mom's computer downstairs in the kitchen with coffee beside me and checking my facebook in my pajamas one foot on the chair and a blanket around me. But my dreams tell me differently. I can't go back, I can only go back to the boring I was escaping. And I will have nothing to do. For I have had my exciting and I gave it up to come home.

i had a dream i went back to nash

crashville

i had a dream i went back. it was terrible. everything was boring. i went to 5 spot and the only person i saw that i recognized was someone that i always tried to avoid there. and the whole time during the dream i was like i can't believe i left thailand for this

it makes me sick to think of leaving.

i miss people at home and experiences. i wish a lot of my people would just come over here.
also it's going to be hard going back to a small minded area. they were small minded before i left and now they are going to be even smaller.

at the same time i can't wait to see it and complain about it.

this is for those who deside to give up on a dream

I know it's hard for you, but I can't console you in your decision to go home because I think you're stupid for giving up.

motorbike accident number 4

only the 2nd one that was actually my fault though.

the students and bosses asked if i had been drinking?
i said yes.
cause i was.
my boss was advising me to clean my wounds.
i said it hurt too much.
he said take a shot of tequila
i said that's what got me into this mess.

and i thought i just got away with some scrapes. but this one keeps oozing. plus the gauze keeps ripping off whatever skin forms. and i thought it was just bruises that were hurting when i touched certain areas, but tonight in the shower i noticed that my arm looks awfully funny shaped. different from other non broken arms

pink elephants

pink elephants

this used to be one of my least favorite parts to one of my least favorite movies.
but now
i know drinking.
i know hallucinating.
and i like and appreciate it.