Wednesday, July 29, 2015

weird-kind-of-irony, woman-on-woman crime, relationships section of Cosmo

And I remember being observed by her--knowing that she hated me--watching, saying, something from across the bonfire, feels abuse in the spotlight of her, judgment, and thought: she probably wants to fuck me.

Brought on by a special kind of conceit, thank you, Personalities.

feel we branding new, again

"I feel you."
You say that, but I have a feeling you'll never feel me.

Catching Dick Photos, Multitask, Mutilate

Ever see photos of yourself and think, "if this were my profile pic I'd have a lot more followers." And, want to vomit, but, then, want to bask in your still youthful glory for a second, remember the many times people have told you, "your skin is sick," and start to agree and then need to barf more, decide to destroy image(s), but just DeletE isn't enough, so you waste ten minutes

photoshopping around monstrosity.

Waiting for Bardot

I burned myself with a flat iron.
But, it's okay, because my mom grew aloe in my garden of childhood.
And, life is full of salad re:touching.

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

I'm cool with it, cool.

How do you get people to care?
       I mean make.

old dust bones in my feed, learn how to refresh my reader

Sponsor my 3 months older, FB, funding, worked harder, take it down, EM-EF-AY, rabbit holing, no control, call me credit card, on topple it all, fooling debt, I'm lovin it, drop in with me, withouts.

Monday, July 27, 2015

Saturday, July 25, 2015

not growing on, most unlikeable endeavorer

hurting multiplayer statuses, postering pseudocredentials, a bad day, no vanity rain.

frequenting my childlike wondering why

menthol calling card, deepening south, aggressive-aggressive, no more calling out

no risker, make me reality

bleeding out and
looking stoned
all night long, all night

Chasing Death

riding that unicorn

Dead-husband. Predate nodads. Two, sometimes Three, repeat.

Dark-circled eyes.
Goofy grin. Future referenced.

Memory flow: flow, halt, fires.

You're Just Far Too Close to We

stranger, it gripped me       then, I coudn't ask
Body dangers, friendly fliers

closing the construct                one personality
thanks for being honest, respect          
make the book

high powered, driving hard                Succeed

Come. Feel me taste your breath away.

Use your weird irony. Make no sense. Fill me up, let me know that I'm out of it, speaking in codes to avoid. Privilege.

With some sefl-important overdrive.
Added Spice. Girls, girls, girls.
Dying tonight, w/e.

The one who called it

Shop. Ten years earlier, Disney Light Parade.
                                                           Off tree.
                                       I'm not gonna have to fight a little kid, right?
                                       Probably keeping it. Secret. Shaggy hair and puffy cheeks.

I was mostly uncertain then. Arm wrestle a eight-year-old. Lose.

Door, pizza delivery. Some of them nines.

Before my birth, figure much of the construct.
Misery Porn, prop if right. On the gearstick.

Shouldn't have it, namesake.

Tall Heat Blonde. Resolute distaste. Seems sized, right.

Indulges me. Run over them.
Treasury box. Meet me. Bathroom stall.

With correct skin. Both coincidence. Power suits.

Literal FtherFcker, finding never never, landslide, water park, on that knee. Hair.

Comely motherlanding with hospital beds. Play the piano for me.

Curls in hair, in fact. Costumed jewelry and twenty odd, Them.

I remember cornered. Concern. Dolled up revenge, red lipstick to onward, Self.

Interest and sense. Be seen. Was alone, allowed. Spying aloud. No doubt. Hit. Ground.

gag in thoughtful digestion, a single wad, observation

So, I shut up. Today, man of refusal, calling "Slut." This sounds, forever made, and up. What can only be, marked and obvious. Holding onto, underdogging it. Of course, I'm fucked up enough to be into it. Saddle shoes, and certain people: gaze. Miami, underway. Falling out with "No."


Eyes. Red Neck, My duties. Childhooder Founded. Academy wasteland.

Write better.
       Pigment, after T.  Loud and Close.
       Disrupted streak.    His poetry, not good.
                    Tokens for my troubles.
My eyes. Hated that. Hate it still.
Counts are short, infuriated, downcast.
        Boxed this.
   Just pushed.
   My little Buddha belly.

My Mom in Black Pumps

Long legs.    Seat belts and screaming, alien \\findings
All the nights.     Little feets counting, changing

                             Stomach to the brain. Alter state.
                             "All women over fifty need to be..."
That fool, MD.

Long limbs do break, though. And, everything is telling.

Friday, July 24, 2015

Firsting it, with insufficient bodies

and bawling fists,
support me now.                            

Not Angry Enough to Drink Frappuccinos Everyday

Not yet.

post grad, hearts,b, 2013.
"I don't want this Target life!"

if only Rage were more than a font

Killing it, misery porn.
Lit it up w/ Uuuusher.
if I don't............................
die first........................w/e
--I'm losing my fucking mi
                                      nd--in my sister's hand-me-down swimsuit

Thursday, July 23, 2015

I couldn't slap a cancer survivor

like hitting a child.

that is patronizing. huh.

Best Movie Ever

*That time that guy at work that refused to acknowledge my sarcasm, that said I was, "pretty superficial," at the end of the night as I was walking out to leave the building with my posse, and I straight-b-face responded to him, "Don't presume that you know me."*


Wednesday, July 22, 2015

kmn, feel n it

droppin' blood.
  cleanin' out.
  kill me now.

We Die Together Violence of Invisibility Now Start

we're not cyborgs, yet.

queerest theory queen, seventeen.

happenings, making new Devo, finding #healthgoth > #babycore insistent disguise

Small cornered, so called dollars

website for the--deforestation. so metal.

posthuman e overing

able to read w/shade    supposesly     "asmk a creole girl"      tight

unreal mystic, bodily, without it, objectionable-oriented-ontology

Second-life, on demand:
girl with the most cake face boss.

a/s/l "where are you, and what body are you in?"

New contemporary condition: multiple person              disorder
"fractured, online, networked identity."
                                                              Cyber.g freedom.

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

because you have good bones

Take your Polaroid and they walk away,
               a some songs about being severteen

second-lofe purs e a st orm

seconds time you woke me up,
  sleeping on cat paws, bugga boo.

Monday, July 20, 2015

reenacting. talking stears

And, fitting in with telemarketers, off-script

And...(remember later)...avatars...
                      Authenticity, sterile drip.

thumbnail of a person, no photo traiting needed, go fuuurself

They're not, like, self-centered and cool. They're just, you know, gross and entitled.

OGP, know

Fuck a Cyborg. Done. Mic Drop.

micro-stimulation of notice

Chapter 1: Bad Teenage Poetry

does not speak concludes on the contrary s spoken by the Spectacle

some image meant,
and, oh,
I don't know

the self-selfing

trouble and werd, girl swarm

“Precisely because of
her nothingness,” swallow hard,
“each of her judgements
carries the imperative weight
of the whole
social order, and she knows it.”

the fool is journeying

each time, more self

death card, represent

parts with ourselves
we performing    

    what part 
perform    feel us
more like ourselves

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

last copied now pasted (redact)

"The least developed area for the ____ is the Sensing-Feeling arena. If the Sensing areas are neglected, the ____ may tend to not take care of details in their life. If the Feeling part of themself is neglected, the ____ may not value other people's input enough, or may become overly harsh and aggressive."

last thing i googled

elise america's next top model

Monday, July 13, 2015

write for me..."finish your own gosh darn sentence"

script my lifes
tell me we

I'll with a start
that Submittable i.e.g.

You Have No Inner LifeR

"Who else cares
           about you?"

babysitter's club, and we're basically

pregnant already

don't call me again either


everybody wants, wants, wants

something, this thing, that,
it, it, it,

and I give what I can,
literally all. can. cause

keeping most of
it for me

A Whole Person Relegated Outside of You, Internet. No haves.

No voice with face.
No face with voice.
                               Been controlling that bod, on the reg, and the rag, for years.

What's my age again? No flashing photographies, please.
                                                                                           Nope, halves.

As if the idea of controling image, own image, wasn't something I was doing all along, as if I didn't ask myself at eight, watching the beginning of Edward Scissorhands: am I living, or am I just playing in this memory, mine or someone elses. And it is a stupid sort of fate, I suppose.

But, I didn't make this thing up. Not the structure, not the cast, not that thing you call Me, either.

Not really.

And she said it, and I agreed, I said, "It's like you're a social masochist."

Survey monkey my personality test, Semi-public.

Hearts, B

Thursday, July 9, 2015


Sucker for idolatry, visit my trunk, visual starts, open wide and take it, bright with fab and flow and stems-tea-glows, somebody had to make it.

Touch is so sweet, soma mean feats

I'm gonna get off.

And, I'm crying for myself-obsession.

Singularity Status

Married and pregnant!

Ten inches from your face: Status

Is currently obsessed with the idea of faking a pregnancy. 
The opposite of Shannon D. in the fifth grader, hater.

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

"riotgrrrls don't diet"--get over yerself, sad girls do. with strict potential. never tell a someone

"I had so much on my mind; I was glad when I died."

Ongoing, body danger...putting through, sort of the thing.
                                                                                     The Thing. It.

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Love Me Like My Mom Does.



Some Performance of Selfed

At the very most, we will spend our lives researching for five seconds of your time. You will look with a desire to look elsewhere. Stare blankly when lost. Understand that it is tagged and bagged, and will wish to have become an accountant. A CEO. Power. Can I...attention now? At most, at very most: have pieces in some leaflet accompanying a musician, an actress, a designer, a catalog of events that felt long. A lover.

Kevin, 7, Jennifer 8

I didn't know how to help you then.

And, I'm still thinking about it now.

Monday, July 6, 2015


If one more person hint, hint, wink, wink, brings up Stella from oitnb to me...I get it, have found words to put to use that I don't generally bother with.

feel me, feel you, feel me

I have a feeling you'll never feel me...

And, that "your whole family is going down."

Jobs, warp speed in fleek

 just connect things    when you ask, they feel       guilty
     didn't really do it, see something    seems obvious
experiences                   synthesize
new things              to do that        *DUI
was     more experiences
have thought more        *DUH
about their experiences

Unfortunately, rare commodity   *hooking

lot of people in our industry     *self-trafficking, my pleasure
diverse experience                     they don't have enough dots to connect

               and they end up       very linear   *thigh gap* solutions
without     broad perspective, understanding, human.

Dream is an Our Bus

Sddgrrl crew and how
self-dispossession and media.saturated regurgitation
becomes a cut wide open feel me feeling you. I am intense.

Whoopsy, my bikini top fell off!

That's it,
               whoopsy, my bikini top fell off.

anti-trauma-rama, Brace-face

App that wakes you up saying amazing things like, "So happy you're alive!" *looks like sunflower alarm clock from Sister Act, wears baggy overalls like Lauren Hill from SA2

remember when i told you restaurants are the inverse of gyms, and so to even out they should exist, in a balanced world, in one location...same, basic space...

Mental Education...physical...basic

Interactive Eating, with Recess

Super, ultra, high functioning, type of semi-mild-autism and..siphoned OCD, P.E...M.E.

a must be

Blew my skirt up...instead of knocked my socks off?

Show Me How To Deal, starring Mandy Moore Make-up

Me.    As iChat        as I want to be     a D.Downer,

I have to admit
waking up at noon
drinking badaaa mate
    reading chunky critical theory out loud
    stop every two minutes, have a breakdown
excitedly jot down everything,                  notes

Can't Hardly Wait, starring me with
                                                JLHewitt rack

time to write, I sort of report, sddgrrrhpp

art education triangle? like jesus, like the carpenter on L. Werd.

fast, cheap, and goooood

Forgetting Mortal Kombat

Reptile and Subzero's sexual tension is getting a little hard to ignore.

pockets and protection

"Kim has nothing to do with this."* 


at which people disregard all else said, with the mention of her name, is telling.

imposition&destruction69...human toiletzzz

I'm all over it
                       That imposition and construction
of, and what? the bully      pull it      towards

adherence         intellectual...artistic(institutionalized)
plus-sized hierarchies             and, old-school...not cool

dusty old bones

Bones.                it upholds
                   omni-phobic, with that         capital A, agenda

20 May, hurry a little

open, hurting, everywhere
because, body-have and    we    dropping like flies
             longing hair, don't care
           wait, what, why?
A death in the valley, and I'm insisting on a new device, because ones and zeros, and, "Do you wanna go home with a Zero, or leave with a Hero?" I need some of thatasapp sorta vibe, learning how to train a tribe, going down on binary, losing all incense, cleansing this space, harder in a vac--with that rat-tat-cat...someone get me a cherry red bull. St-st-stat.

new, new real eState

...the interesting thing about planned communities is that if you're not what they planned for, you're not a part of the community.

I raise you, anonymous host

Fb committer...

        Tired? Why sleep? Learn how to make tens of dollars at home, while those other chumps waste hours a day getting the recommended 6-8 hours. I've tried these 3 belly fat secrets, and they really work! A$k me how!

kill me now

Sdd Grrrl Day.

Sunday, July 5, 2015

tagging with



mass impersonalities

But, "who am I to judge," always impersonating affections, anyways

Affect.alien,out--buffalo bill, you kill me.

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

spitting twos

smoking poetry the other night     super senior    come up for air    "If only you were a boy."

Single White Female Style