lily

Nicolletta wrote me a song. A FUCKIN SONG! It's so beautiful, IM BLUSHING. I wish that I could play it for you but for now here's the lyrics

some lily lovers
try to dance with her
try to catch what she got in her coffer

all the lonely texas tales
lonely rivers
the non stop runnings

all the twisted pity hearts
go make love with her and she'll wake up running
and she'll take your soul
and all your money!

and check her music while you're at it...MyBabysART

Wild lonely heartbroken insanity. Followed my heart to highways with thumbs
Raised high. Slept in that train-yard for days chasing love over the border. 3 days I camped out in that train-yard, sang songs and rode around with rednecks who were selling morphine to troubled souls. chocolate for the pained bones and reckless trailerpark boredom
I was walking in the sunlight fresh like a new day and saw my train, red with CN for Canadian Northern on it. When it started to move I ran. I couldn't find any grainers or boxcars to ride in so I hopped into a gondala in a moment of desperation. On that train I just kept thinking of Johnathan because we had spoken so many times of riding this line together to get out of the states. I hallucinated that he was there sitting next to me in his white prison jumpsuit. I reached out to touch him and he smiled and disappeared. I cried. But this time the tears weren't only for pain but for love and his mischievous smile, because I knew he was on cloud nine and his bliss was like candy. So there I was with the wind in my face, a double heartbeat in my fetus, and every angel speaking in rhyme on my way to the city of love.
Broken hearted when the train stopped, I got off and put my thumb to the clear blue sky, singing a bob Dylan tune and a nice French man pulls over and drives me right into montreal. He could barely speak English, "Where you would like to go madam?" he said, "Oh you can drop me off in berri park" I answer sweetly. He shakes his head "Bad place, bad place for pretty girl like you"
Yeah, mister, sometimes pretty girls end up in bad places and can't find their ways outta them, and sometimes pretty girls end up in bad places and love them because bad places are all that they remember, all that they know.
I'm out of the car and French is all around me, I'm in a new world. I'm on the phone with Devon, My soul sister and we're making music with language as we always do and I tell her my troubles and she gives me her advice like a big sister and she warms my heart in a foreign land until we get disconnected and when I heard the phone disconnect my heart shattered. Bums in the park glued it back together. Julian serenaded me with his music. He strummed his guitar and we sang out our hearts. I looked into his eyes and found something scary and amazing. In his eyes. In his eyes. Later I found him hustling on st.Catherine and as the rain poured down he offered me shelter from the storm at his flat.
We slept together in perfect symmetry, sleeping angels escaping reality. He sang my sickness away. In the morning he took a cocktail of pills. "what are those for?" I asked already knowing as I've seen them. He told me the story of how he caught the virus. His girl was a prostitute. She didn't know. His heart was filled with anger and hate until he learned to play the guitar. I kissed his tears away on his beautiful face. He was so beautiful. Even with the sunken cheekbones. His eyes told me stories. Of course I had to fall in love with sadness. I held onto him real tight and he showed me what real love was like. Days I had to hustle, I had a crew for that. I was the cute little girl that distracted the cashier at the liquer store until the four tough punk guys had walked out with their pockets full of wine that we'd go sell to the home bums in the park. Some nights I slept on rooftops with Jay, others with a crew of street kids by the theatre. I met Marco one day, a strange soul, spitting weird shit that scared me and intrigued me at the same time. We promised to tell each other our dreams in the morning but then couldn't remember them. Most nights I ran around with Julian again. We kissed each others hands. I held him in my arms. People would ask if he was my boyfriend, but they didn't understand what platonic means. One counselour at pops, the drop in center, called me a passionate woman, the same day my mama called me a stupid girl. She said what "some may call stupid, others will call passionate and following your heart is passionate ms. Lily and you are just that a very passionate woman"

Passionate, I'm holding onto that.

Love, Lily

mAN, i miss Fatality

A quote that my lovely little sister Apathy sent me and through everything we have been through together, we have made amends and I love her as much as I hope she loves me. She sent me this quote cause she said it reminded her of me and her. I can't wait to hold this tough autistic bitch in my arms again!

""The Girl who has been through things of which she cannot speak. The girl with nothing. This Girl with nothing but her own strength and a desire to be free. With nothing but a beating heart that is scared to be alone, with nothing but clear blue eyes that see through me and understand me. With nothing but open arms ready to receive me. To stand by me. To walk with me. To love me. I love her. Lily. The Girl with nothing and everything. Lily. I love her."-J.F.