PICS
Last night I bled for the future. Incapacitated by my love for you. This is the kind of theater of life where art and reality blend. I created something out of nothing, sweat and skin and bruised kisses transformed into a little beating heart.
It's insane what love can do to us. In the elevator that morning the women were comparing black eyes from their lovers, saying but my man is stronger than yours and the nurse grunted in disgust. It's that kind of harsh love that drives the killer in us,makes the mothers out of us, learns the addiction in us like a shot of dope.This love has no language except survival.
The kind of love as real as bloodstains.
It makes the whole world look just like a beautiful circus when you're around.
Love, Lily
P.s. Go check out my interview with film-makers Eric Juhola, Jeremy Stulberg, and Randy Stulberg where I talk to them about documentary film-making and the story behind their newest project "Nowhere Kids" which I am so greatful to have been a part of NowhereKids, and leave a comment! <3
It's insane what love can do to us. In the elevator that morning the women were comparing black eyes from their lovers, saying but my man is stronger than yours and the nurse grunted in disgust. It's that kind of harsh love that drives the killer in us,makes the mothers out of us, learns the addiction in us like a shot of dope.This love has no language except survival.
The kind of love as real as bloodstains.
It makes the whole world look just like a beautiful circus when you're around.
Love, Lily
P.s. Go check out my interview with film-makers Eric Juhola, Jeremy Stulberg, and Randy Stulberg where I talk to them about documentary film-making and the story behind their newest project "Nowhere Kids" which I am so greatful to have been a part of NowhereKids, and leave a comment! <3
There are so many portals in this city.
I raised her and loved her and lost her.
I visited her friday night and the lights in this city couldn't have drowned me back to life after.
But when she spoke she shattered everything that could have been.
She had deep violet bruises under her eyes, working the night shift at the massage parlour,
black eyed from having her dreams crippled and sold back to her.
I brushed her hair and sang her love songs and brought her love back to life.
I would have killed everything that hurt her just to get back to a brighter moment with her
To the double heartbeat,
I wrote my stories down, all of them and watched the words reel and splat and convulse. The things we loved always seemed to fuck us up but a laugh meant more than anything for motherless children. For you I want to be everything she was not, visions of my mother with her bandaged wrists, a story that threatens to recreate herself, but no, I have to be strong like his fist, with your half Cuban ancestry and your mothers fearless love, I hope you will be whole.
xo, Lily
You don't know life's tattered edges cutting you beneath your feet. 6 am my time hallucinating talking to a lost friend that stole all your secrets and left them on the answering machine. she breathes heavy stomping on her floors, hair is crazy like medusa, we both see snakes everywhere when i open little white letters, typed in small dark letters he says he saw death in my eye and i watch them ride away to some sense of salvation, the dirt blowing in my hair. soon i will have to build my own home, maybe out of bamboo, because this land, this roof, these doors do not welcome me.
Like my little sister apathy said...
PLEASE HELP A GIRL GET PAID!
Dirty Girl Gets Clean - Please leave a comment if you like it even if it's just a smiley face and I will love you forever.
Love, Lily
P.S. and which ones of the members sent me packages of beautiful books and lingerie for my birthday? Identify yourselves so I can thank you each individually....
I was barely eighteen when I joined Suicidegirls. I was never a member beforehand. My first set that I sent in was accepted and that was early 2003.
I loved the supportive community for a long time. I made some great friends like Debrajean, Kyle, Apathy, Fatality, Voltaire, Benni and Bob . I also got to hang out with awesome girls like Nicolletta, Brandy,Jersey, Hunter, and Amina.
I made friends through the site with people like anepiphany, Queenie, Su, and all the girls and boys in the SW group.
I had deep online connections with girls like Kikka,Thora.........I could go on and on.
But unlike some girls this will not keep me part of the site, I was never one of the sg sorority girls. I have lots and lots of friends outside of suicidegirls.
I got to be a part of the first book and was featured in the cards.
I was connected with a community that thought unconventional beauty was still beautiful.
But most of all I found a underworld community that loved, appreciated, and encouraged my writing, besides the friendships, this has meant the most to me and I promise all of my writing fans that one day you will be able to hold my writing in a book.
Over the years the site changed and I guess I didn't. It almost exploded overnight into something more corporate than the little online community I joined back in '03.
One of the things I am strongly disillusioned with right now is member review. I don't find it empowering for girls to have to submit naked pictures to the site for free with only hopes of their set getting bought and all of the promotion some of them feel like they have to do in order to get their pictures bought and regardless of what people might think, there is favoritism here and there is a hierarchy that I try to stay away from.
due to all of these things I have made the decision to leave. I also have grown out of the attention craving egotism that comes along with modeling and I don't feel the need to submit naked pictures of myself to feel beautiful. I know and have always known I am beautiful.
I want to thank Missy and Sean for every opportunity. I wish them nothing but the best with their vision. It's just not a vision that I feel like I want to be a part of anymore.
But most of all thank you to the girls and the members who have supported my writing and acting and things outside of suicidegitls. I love you all and will miss you all. My e mail is lilithdreams@hotmail.com . Please stay in touch.
You're free bird. Fly away.
xoxo, Lily
I loved the supportive community for a long time. I made some great friends like Debrajean, Kyle, Apathy, Fatality, Voltaire, Benni and Bob . I also got to hang out with awesome girls like Nicolletta, Brandy,Jersey, Hunter, and Amina.
I made friends through the site with people like anepiphany, Queenie, Su, and all the girls and boys in the SW group.
I had deep online connections with girls like Kikka,Thora.........I could go on and on.
But unlike some girls this will not keep me part of the site, I was never one of the sg sorority girls. I have lots and lots of friends outside of suicidegirls.
I got to be a part of the first book and was featured in the cards.
I was connected with a community that thought unconventional beauty was still beautiful.
But most of all I found a underworld community that loved, appreciated, and encouraged my writing, besides the friendships, this has meant the most to me and I promise all of my writing fans that one day you will be able to hold my writing in a book.
Over the years the site changed and I guess I didn't. It almost exploded overnight into something more corporate than the little online community I joined back in '03.
One of the things I am strongly disillusioned with right now is member review. I don't find it empowering for girls to have to submit naked pictures to the site for free with only hopes of their set getting bought and all of the promotion some of them feel like they have to do in order to get their pictures bought and regardless of what people might think, there is favoritism here and there is a hierarchy that I try to stay away from.
due to all of these things I have made the decision to leave. I also have grown out of the attention craving egotism that comes along with modeling and I don't feel the need to submit naked pictures of myself to feel beautiful. I know and have always known I am beautiful.
I want to thank Missy and Sean for every opportunity. I wish them nothing but the best with their vision. It's just not a vision that I feel like I want to be a part of anymore.
But most of all thank you to the girls and the members who have supported my writing and acting and things outside of suicidegitls. I love you all and will miss you all. My e mail is lilithdreams@hotmail.com . Please stay in touch.
You're free bird. Fly away.
xoxo, Lily
www.stillpointpictures.com/nowherekids
At last the site is up!
You can also watch the trailer at www.myspace.com/nowherekidsmovie and leave a comment! and add them as a friend if you do the myspace thing!
.I always seem to have a hard time during the holidays. It's the lack of biological family. It's the feeling of being so alone while you watch families huddle together in the streets and drown in their mindless consumerism and even with my detest...they look so happy from over here.
anyway if you want to cheer up a gypsy orphan this holiday...WishList
I think now is the time to maybe start expressing myself through modeling again and that means, yes, shooting sets for suicidegirls again! It's been a long interlude but I have to say that I truly miss self expression through modeling. Lately I have been behind the camera more, as a hobby i suppose.
I had to walk away from a womanchild i adored so much. Her crimson colored lips stained with truths obscured. My love for insane women goes back to childhood as I stood above my mothers blood on the floor from self inflicted cuts to her wrists. That was a lifetime away yet seems so close. Her medication bottles were empty. All of them.I watched as she threw them in the toilet, her eyes red with tears and rage And she kneeled by the toilet and watched with crazed delight as the assorted colored pills swelled up with piss before she flushed them into the sewers.Her last rebellion, overwhelming like the heat before a storm.These walls have seen war zones and these bathtubs have seen death.She's metamorphosing slow but incessantly
And now she sweats bullets during her trance like sleep.I live in a world where love never dies, it only transforms and so I kiss her eyelids and sway towards the door
The goodbye always makes my heart sore.
Love you all, Lily
Question: do you prefer the dream world or the waking one?
my answer: The dream world definitely...
To dispell rumours, Lily is very much alive and breathing.
Like a cat with too many lives, I had a close call though,
a collision with the underworld that put my girl love in seizures
and put my best interest in her maniacal hands trying to ward off
the soulless with fucked up metaphors. Yes, she was behind the mysterious rumours and I can only say she had good intentions and that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. ha.Her lips riddled with secrets and lies.
I love her.
And today i'm left standing if only a little more hardened. you can't sleep off death, she keeps whispering in my ear, but maybe girls like us can....
I could tell new stories about the ambulance ride that I have no recollection of, The strange realm of psyche wards and the damage done, but my tramp stamp says "Rebirth" for reasons.
sometimes we have to walk to our edge to find our center.
Like a cat with too many lives, I had a close call though,
a collision with the underworld that put my girl love in seizures
and put my best interest in her maniacal hands trying to ward off
the soulless with fucked up metaphors. Yes, she was behind the mysterious rumours and I can only say she had good intentions and that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. ha.Her lips riddled with secrets and lies.
I love her.
And today i'm left standing if only a little more hardened. you can't sleep off death, she keeps whispering in my ear, but maybe girls like us can....
I could tell new stories about the ambulance ride that I have no recollection of, The strange realm of psyche wards and the damage done, but my tramp stamp says "Rebirth" for reasons.
sometimes we have to walk to our edge to find our center.
I wish that was it for now but I need to drop some words for my girl, Christine Peterson, who followed the clouds a little too soon! R.I.P.
-I spin restlessly in a circular motion, trying to get this emotion perfected.
Too often I feel like just another tortured Lolita with too many stories to tell.
Trying to make jokes about that rigor mortis smell.
she left too soon for everyone.
she was a smile on every grey and rainy day.
but last week they found her slumped over and bruised in an alleyway.
The first time I met her, I couldn't help but stare. Recognizable always by
that celestial halo of blonde hair.
We made that park a home for wayward souls
all united by a couple of benches on fourteenth st.
She was maternal, always giving advice, Everyones mama in some orphanage zoo.
Now she's drifting through clouds waiting for rain.
I want her to know that now that she's gone, all of her children
will memorize her song.
And I can't stop wondering why do these true stories end up with sick twists?
and why does the human heart look more like a fist?
I walk with your memory, I know your last breath was a kiss.
Another suspect guardian angel added to my list.
xoxo, Lily
p.s. what have your dreams been like lately? all of mine have been post apocalyptic and insane!
and what do you think of the video clip? I promise I'm not so mean in real life, nor do I use the word "dude" so much!
Lily needs all the luck in the world tonight. so be thinkin of me, sending me that intense energy 8 pm new york time! 
Janice Erlbaum My interview with a truly amazing woman is up, go comment!
March 23rd
sleepless nights became sleepless days.
I watched New York sunrises from broken glass windows with a bottle in my hand every morning.
Immersed in a cultural underworld where I have made my bed.
Spanish is everywhere and the men whisper from the broken streets "Muy bonita".
And the latina women with deep curves, hold fatherless children on their hips and walk to the market.
I watch the world awaken below me, sunrise after sunrise.
Insomnia bred a certain form of delusional love.
I was alice falling down the rabbit hole.
In seperate states of mania I created thet "Tradgedy" collage .
Something I used to work on when I was a teenager living with a skizo
who thought he was a prophet.
bizarre newspaper articles and a bunch of obituaries.
hallucinations made me feel stuck halfway between the dream world and my own.
the visions got stronger, like wind gathering air and picking up speed, leaving me flustered.
I fought off my reactionary impulses to make a home on the highway again.
I am, afterall, branded a gypsy, floating like smoke.
Finally the gift became a curse.
I just wanted it to stop, the hallucinations that I adored at first.The voices that made me feel strong and chosen like Joan Of Arc.
A bottle of whiskey and a bottle of sleeping pills.
Please angel, bring me back down.
drifting off into unconsciousness, finally, sleep, my old friend.
I woke up in a hospital gown. With the sound of the sick moaning around me.
I ripped out my I.V. to find someone with some sort of recollection.
A security guard soon intervened. "Go lay back down little girl."
"Where am I? What?"
A doctor twirled around, clipboard in hand, "Just relax, You are going to be transported upstate to a psychiatric facility."
"No i'm not."
He laughed like a man with more knowledge than me. "you are being involuntarily committed. You're leaving in about 5 minutes."
Soon I was on a stretcher, outside and in an ambulance. speeding past the city of lust and danger and love and heartbreak and.......My city got smaller and smaller behind me.
The psychiatric hospital was full of magical people. Some quiet and stuck in their own minds, and some theatrical and charismatic. My favorite woman was about 40 and had multiple personality disorder and I became quite familiar with all of her 8 intricate personalities. Some people would get shocked when she would speak and immediately change from one realm of existence to the next. I sat unfazed and intrigued. What a wild soul. She inspired me to write a play. One day they took her out for shock therapy and I never saw her again.
april 6th
The world becomes what we make of it, I stand in my own shattered glass trying to pick up the pieces. The day Rammy came to pick me up, he held my hand and said in spanish that this was the first day of the rest of my life. I squeezed his hand as the city emerged brighter and more chaotic than usual. Dia Jara wrote me a letter, in blue ink with her imperfect handwriting and bad english, They are sending her to Iraq. I cut out a heart to send back to her and ripped it a little down the middle. I miss her soul. I pray she uses all her strength for survival. Harmony has taken her place as the woman in my life, but they are worlds apart. Harmony the gorgeous and theatrical screamer. So pretty on the outside that it almost makes me sick, but her inside imperfections make up for her flawless beauty and anyway thats where the real shit is. I miss Johnathan. I miss angels and lovers and friends.I've been thinking of them a lot with this memoir (I've been seeing a lot of old acquaintances/friends lately and it's been a great disappointment) ... I've been hush hush about my writing, but things are starting to happen.
I love you all, Lily
But SPEAKING OF NAKED PICS, check out my little sister apathy 's "member review" set. I think its gorgeous and she is a wonderful little lady who wrote me letters in the psyche ward. Go comment
March 23rd
sleepless nights became sleepless days.
I watched New York sunrises from broken glass windows with a bottle in my hand every morning.
Immersed in a cultural underworld where I have made my bed.
Spanish is everywhere and the men whisper from the broken streets "Muy bonita".
And the latina women with deep curves, hold fatherless children on their hips and walk to the market.
I watch the world awaken below me, sunrise after sunrise.
Insomnia bred a certain form of delusional love.
I was alice falling down the rabbit hole.
In seperate states of mania I created thet "Tradgedy" collage .
Something I used to work on when I was a teenager living with a skizo
who thought he was a prophet.
bizarre newspaper articles and a bunch of obituaries.
hallucinations made me feel stuck halfway between the dream world and my own.
the visions got stronger, like wind gathering air and picking up speed, leaving me flustered.
I fought off my reactionary impulses to make a home on the highway again.
I am, afterall, branded a gypsy, floating like smoke.
Finally the gift became a curse.
I just wanted it to stop, the hallucinations that I adored at first.The voices that made me feel strong and chosen like Joan Of Arc.
A bottle of whiskey and a bottle of sleeping pills.
Please angel, bring me back down.
drifting off into unconsciousness, finally, sleep, my old friend.
I woke up in a hospital gown. With the sound of the sick moaning around me.
I ripped out my I.V. to find someone with some sort of recollection.
A security guard soon intervened. "Go lay back down little girl."
"Where am I? What?"
A doctor twirled around, clipboard in hand, "Just relax, You are going to be transported upstate to a psychiatric facility."
"No i'm not."
He laughed like a man with more knowledge than me. "you are being involuntarily committed. You're leaving in about 5 minutes."
Soon I was on a stretcher, outside and in an ambulance. speeding past the city of lust and danger and love and heartbreak and.......My city got smaller and smaller behind me.
The psychiatric hospital was full of magical people. Some quiet and stuck in their own minds, and some theatrical and charismatic. My favorite woman was about 40 and had multiple personality disorder and I became quite familiar with all of her 8 intricate personalities. Some people would get shocked when she would speak and immediately change from one realm of existence to the next. I sat unfazed and intrigued. What a wild soul. She inspired me to write a play. One day they took her out for shock therapy and I never saw her again.
april 6th
The world becomes what we make of it, I stand in my own shattered glass trying to pick up the pieces. The day Rammy came to pick me up, he held my hand and said in spanish that this was the first day of the rest of my life. I squeezed his hand as the city emerged brighter and more chaotic than usual. Dia Jara wrote me a letter, in blue ink with her imperfect handwriting and bad english, They are sending her to Iraq. I cut out a heart to send back to her and ripped it a little down the middle. I miss her soul. I pray she uses all her strength for survival. Harmony has taken her place as the woman in my life, but they are worlds apart. Harmony the gorgeous and theatrical screamer. So pretty on the outside that it almost makes me sick, but her inside imperfections make up for her flawless beauty and anyway thats where the real shit is. I miss Johnathan. I miss angels and lovers and friends.I've been thinking of them a lot with this memoir (I've been seeing a lot of old acquaintances/friends lately and it's been a great disappointment) ... I've been hush hush about my writing, but things are starting to happen.
I love you all, Lily
But SPEAKING OF NAKED PICS, check out my little sister apathy 's "member review" set. I think its gorgeous and she is a wonderful little lady who wrote me letters in the psyche ward. Go comment
