heathermaxine

summer is so slow and thick. it's nice.

portia is beautiful beautiful beautiful.

I can't do it on my own. No cliche BS, please.

What is something you believe with all of your soul to be true? Or rather, what are your Truths?

i think on one of the best days of my life i will write a list of truths and tape them everywhere so i never forget and you never forget.

maybe tomorrow, eh?

i'm really bad at updating this goddamn thing.

i have a headache like a machete to the head.

my life is being slow these days. what do them old skool brits say? slow like molasses going uphill in feberry.

how the fuck do you spell febuhairy? february? febuary? feburary? you wouldn't believe it was the month i was born in. i've said it before and i'll say it again: lay off the pot, heather, lay off the pot.

but. life is always so...
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three days in a row i watch her stumble into her old red pickup and drive away. she's missing something, yeah. you can tell by the way she limps.

i hate everyone, in different degrees as dictated by sexuality. straight women get the brunt, while bisexual men are the most forgiven. but really. go to hell. all of you. burn, bay-bee.

i should write more? fine.

except--- oh, that's right. i have nothing to say.

bluegreen and tonight i'm afraid i'll be having a huge wild party i don't want. oh well. bring me my bud and i'll forgive you for invading my home and having sex on my bed. i should've warned you, though: i never change my sheets. don't mind spilled blood and ink.

fuckin a.
agenda of the day:
go get boozed out and visit an art museum with extended family, the kind with money coming out of their ass and nothing coming out of their mouth. hurrah.

coke-stained lesbian with a taste for filth and perv and do i want a date? of course, of course. i like dates like i like prunes.

I feel: off. airy. floating. scarred.

last night my potty-mouth got us kicked out of a party. a first, to be thrown out of a party. perhaps it shows i haven't lived enough. but how exhilerating! to stand out in the cold waiting for a cab or a loving friend to give me a ride, knowing behind me stood a house of seething girls and drooling boys... and if aja weren't...
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i had something to say a moment ago but it fell away with my nail clippings and an eyelash. maybe i'll pick it up in a couple of months and wonder that a piece of trash like that could ever have been attached to my body.