I could buzz away at any moment, next summer I'll go to BARTHELONA ( pronouncing it like they do) and adapt and blend in. I've been blending in with the bathtub lately, turning an unlikely shade of grey, and my eyeliner has swept into its old Margot Tenenbaum apperance.. so has my hair faded to more golden shades. I've lost all of France again, I feel mildly defeated.

I miss you the most during hurricane season, when our toes would meet under blankets and our lips met above the thundering skies, because those were the first and best memories we had in this tumultuous weather, stopping and pausing.
Then theres every bruise I receieve that reminds me of hickeys, and even every hickey now makes me laugh. I've grown out of you all of a sudden, I guess I always had because I was constantly going and coming and you never knew where i would be next week.but this is a story, and not a love songs- my love songs are reserved for things that are yet to come to pass or places that will always exist.
Theres been a few eclipses since, mostly when I'm listening to cheesy love songs, and I finally understand. I still love you and how could I not when we broke up it wasn't bad- well in a manner of speaking, but we had to stop speaking in order to reclaim our independance and to learn to dance seperatly.
I would see your eyes watching me though, and I would seek them out when I was dancing in someone else's arms and it hurt that you didnt get up to fight for what you loved. You quit, just like you quit everything hard in your life.
Last summer, I fell in love and left for france immidietly after. I quit while I was ahead but we layed together and you said that you would wait. I felt like the bryan adams song, summer of '69, that you would wait forever.
tonight its hurricane season and I am alone and who knows where on earth your toes are treading, but no track inside my soft mondrian painting inspired sheets.

fights with everyone
Im over everything, or so I say outloud to convince myself of my own coniving tricks
I miss everything about france, I miss meeting new people, I miss cigarettes, and breathing in ocean air, trains, panninis, the water, the air, the people

theres things lacking in my life
theres less rain and less thunder and lightening
I feel oddly unajusted, out of place
France was toutes mes reves familiers
I still have too many dreams, especially at night, mostly during the day
and my thoughts keep wandering away and astray
its like Ive been marionetted through the way I should be acting and thinking
and now that Ive let loose
well,ive let loose
I havent cried in over a month
not even when I arrived to the place that makes me feel content
but a place cannot deliver what your heart desires

where am i headed? lifes, dreams aspirations? i need to make a list. an ongoing list of things i want to achieve someday, things i would like to see, i would like to do, ect.
-live in france
-own a art gallery
-own a restaurent
-work in a second hand bookstore
-have over 1000 records, cds, tapes
-read Utopia, Thomas More
-design an entire line of clothes
-work for a designer( preferable, Chloe, imitation of christ)
-work for a magazine(preferably nylon)
-live in new york city
-perform on an album
-do art for a living
-learn to sculp
-learn to scuba dive properly (again)
-have a darkroom in my own house
-own horses, live on a farm
-write a book
-get book published
-get poetry published in a book
-currate a gallery
-dj
-take salsa dancing
-go to india for yoga for a couple months
-live in morocco for a year and not do anything
-work in piran, slovenia
-work in a castle in slovakia
-learn how to make lace
-throw a succesful dinner party
-have someone really love me
-buy a broken down house in italy, fix it up beautifully all by myself and sell it
-go to ipanema beach in rio de janeiro
-inspire someone else to create something beautiful
-introduce myself as "mrs"(ie. get married)
-raise a child, whether my own or someone else's
-live in london england
-take photographs for a living, get published in magazines
-learn to drive standard

I'll admit that I am missing the southern wind in my life
and my raindrops are creating puddles down by my feet.
I miss you, a lot more than I would ever let on because I am embarassed that my stoicism doesn't fool any of god's heavenly creatures
even that june bug that stared at me from outside the window knew
he could see my heart carved into the back patio, its where I left it last.
I've been trying to formulate new potions to make me say and think what I will but honesty is my best form and my best form is gone
my throat aches my head pains my legs are bringing news of new weather like they always do
and my heart is lost, really I can feel it pounding whenever I think I am playing wheres waldo again
we are making it all E-Z by avoiding being seen among the trees and the tall buildings and the darkened streets.
I'm leaving you know, I know you are aware and what do you think when you think you may never see me again? have you thought about it? I wonder what you think about because when I dont see your face I dont know
I know we were both tired, we both have and had and will have these wrinkles but sometimes a little exfoliation smooths them out
a little time
maybe one day we will meet again

my moon to me
as gone as could be
I look above at night and wish i was below
the ground
6 feet just isnt enough
because of lingering smells and sights
every intoxication of all my senses
just brings you about moon
my darkest mystery, my greatest wish you shall see