Tuesday, November 4, 2014


The stars I worship are dead 
  By the time their light reaches my eyes 
And dazzle me beyond belief 
           They are dead 
    What does that say of me,
The depressed girl who finds hope in the 
Shining, sparkly specks in the too light night sky 
Who seem so alive, but have died long ago 

When I can find a space that is dark enough
              (In the literal sense) 
I lay upon the ground, be it gravel, grass, pavement, or sand. 
And stare, stare, stare in wonder 
     At those glorious specks of death 

Notes written on the backs of letters

Parts of a woman 
Society having picked her apart 
  But there she remains , 
A full human being 
Who appreciates all of the parts 

  No that isn't the word 
Sore and weary from her 
Tumultuous exploration of herself 
She finds solace in her wholeness 

This wholeness sometimes being 
Put together these pieces 
And see a human being before you


Life. The walls you live inside, they feel safe and at the same time still confining, suffocating. The floor boards and their familiar creaks, the ones that give you away. Your habits, repeated, again, and again. The worries, the overwhelming desire to become something other than yourself, that self that somehow clings to the hope and prospects you are fully capable if achieving. The desire is to lose yourself in inadiquity, to be the ghost. That everlasting whimsical of wandering, not wondering... But WANDERING. For certain you are lost without those who love and support you. What to do with the ever present thought in your somehow smart analytic and unique mind. How can such a mind be this inadequate at a life that many layman seem to master. 


Those stars I fervently wish were brighter
     If you're wondering why 
        The reason is this 

Even in their dim sparseness 
     I find hope and a feeling of utterly 
       Captivating beauty 

Unhindered by the future worries of 
           Everyday life 
Their brightness fills the void of infinity 

A bad night in September

I wonder what the people at this pub think 
Distraught young woman seeking refuge
In drink and journaling? 
   A writer onto a story, given the rapid pace of my writing? 
     Or a ghost, come at last to bring more patrons.... The unusual one covered in blood, writing feverishly in her unseen journal. 
    She'll tell your fortune you know. 
      I heard it by a patron near by. 
She's good at predicting deaths, 
  Especially her own. 

.... I'd rather they fancy me a young writer, consumed with the passion of her writing, a story for the ages. 

Monday, November 3, 2014

A bad September day

And what's worse 
    I'd given myself hope 
I had given my family a glimmer of hope. 

And in one stupid day I have smashed it all. 
With the letting of mine own blood, 
With the consumption of spirits. 

The thought of committing totally 
to this 
Idea of madness is often tempting. 

More from that night

I cannot write of what will be. 
The future is easy, the present is hard. 

It is this present from whence I am 
Supposed to build a solid foundation upon which my glorious future will rest 

Problem, this present is shit and has been for as long as I can remember. 

That one night filled with blood

Time moves slow
Sluggish as molasses 
Always it seems,
  To remind you of 
     Your progress, non progress 

Whether the air be crisp with cold
Or heavy with heat
It seems a constant reminder. 
What you want but haven't achieved 
 Of prospects so distant in the future 
    As to seem almost invisible 

You see life in the cold, 
  Stifling pressure in the heat 

Your mind struggles to find 
Whence at last you grow weary 
 And throw yourself into that 
 Light or heavy wind 

Where you land, you have no care 
    At least it's done 

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Down the rabbit hole that is my street at 4am

    I awoke at four am in the morning. Not terribly surprising as I had been tossing and turning all night. This is simply to point out that I am not sure if it was my sister's cats howling that indeed what woke me or if it was simply apart of the nights general pattern. In any case, something was different, a strange noise. Upon straining my ear while I laid in bed contemplating my state of awakeness, I heard a howl, and it was not a happy howl (to be fair I don't think a cats howl is ever a good sign), not being one to ignore an animal (and my sisters at that) in distress I got myself out of bed and through the front door. 
    My arrival outside the house seemed so surreal and sudden, and for I'm sure many reasons, I wondered if playing fighting cat noises outside late at night was perhaps a rapists m.o.. Naturally I got a little worried, I looked to my left and right but saw no signs of danger so I continued on and began softly calling his name. Ten seconds or so later I hear a response (I hope not directed at me), another loud and mean howl. I can barely see him, there at the end of the street and there isn't another cat in sight, yet. I begin walking in such a way as to make haste yet not scare the god damned skittish bastard off (he was my sisters cat after all). When walking to the semi illuminated corner I even had the time to say to myself, "This is rather an odd situation I find myself in". 
    I'm there, close enough to make out that there are indeed two cats involved, in an apparent standoff. This brings some relief that he isn't injured or simply insane, howling into the night for no reason. (I keep fucking thinking of Allen Ginsberg). When I get close enough the two cats part ways and I squint and approach, "Kitty?.... Is that you?... Come here Kitty". He doesn't come here, in fact he walks the fuck off underneath a neighbors car, but not before pausing. He seems to taunt me with that pause, because I know it means he's recognized me, and dismissed me because I am indeed not my sister. I stay for a few minutes more, attempting to coax him out from underneath their damn minivan. All the while I keep thinking maybe it's the Vicodin I took and what if I'm somehow tripping or something. I softly say "fuck it" and begin my short walk back down the street to my house, in my pjs without my shoes. 
    When I open the door and step back inside my cat Penny is waiting, seemingly anxious. I pick her up and bring her with me back to bed, where for a few minutes she furiously demands a great number of pets. I can tell she was worried and feels lovey because she bites me while I pet her, a gem my cat, a real gem. After she feels satisfied and dismisses me, I lay back down and write this, because my god; what a weird event. And now if you'll excuse me, I'll lay back down and cuddle my giant stuffed white rabbit. 

Friday, June 27, 2014

this is depression

Here's the truth she said
There is no truth
It's in your head 

Fake it till you make it
That's what they say
And I must admit I'd take it that way
Because no one fancies being in this pit

One day soon
And then not far
You'll glance at the moon
And accept the scars

Life is beautiful, even when it's not
You are in control 
Even when you are distraught 
So go on tilt your head back and drink it in whole

Your life has been waiting 
Now you feel ready 
No more debating 
It's finally time to feel steady 

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Sometimes Instagram comment arguments beget productive things

This piece I wrote is in response to the misconception or belief that feminists seek to gain equality at the expense of men, either socially, politically or economically, or some combination thereof. I have attempted to explain how generally most feminists do not believe in gaining equality at the expense of men because we do not blame our inequalities on all men in society but rather view the oppression as a by product of patriarchy in its historical and contemporary functions. An easier way of understanding this concept is to view power relations or oppression not simply as top down processes but as a process that exists within a larger matrix of domination. 

Oppression or power isn't some easily seen or defined thing, a singular force from whence ideologies are made and disseminated. To view it this way would be only looking at one aspect of the process. It's like if the oppressed or the individual affected by a certain type of power relation were a rock, and this rock was being pushed into the ground by the palm of someone's hand and you only saw the person doing the pushing and assumed that that was the only force at work. Where in fact there are many other things to consider in how far down that rock goes. Is the soil wet or dry? Or some variation there of? What type of soil is it? What is the reason for the person pushing the rock? Is the rock digging into their hand and making it difficult to push it into the earth? How strong is the person? Did they get enough sleep or food etc to be able to actually do a good job of pushing the rock into the ground? Is it raining or really hot? .. The list can go on and on and on. The important thing to notice is that that power relations or oppression is being affected by many things other than one single force. We don't think that there is one man or one thing to blame for the oppression of women. The oppression continues because it is influenced by past ideologies that we still cling to, because why would the dominant want to relinquish power (when in fact the only way anything would be taken away is other peoples level of tolerance for any misogynistic actions or beliefs)? In short, the oppression continues because the way in which power relations work for this particular category are no longer appropriate or valid for a world and a country that claims that women are equal to men . We have moved on in many aspects but still cling to views that have no relevance in the way the world is experienced and the direction the world seems to be going. Power is omnipresent and it comes from a seemingly infinite amount of directions and is influenced by a seemingly infinite amount of conditions and situations. We cannot change the presence of power and power relations but we can attempt to analyze it more thoroughly and identify areas that for one reason or another have come to oppress millions of people, in this case women. To raise one person up to the level of another does not mean that we have to drag the other down. We do not seek to drown men in an attempt to save ourselves from drowning. We want to be thrown a life saver and ride it out with the men at our sides as our equals; equally deserving of respect, economic and political equality, and a feeling of relative reasonable safety in our everyday lives regardless of how we look or act. 

Friday, May 9, 2014


Your small words 
Fall between my fingers

Your slippery and eels aren't my style

Sunday, April 27, 2014

That silver letter

Between my breasts the thrumming hums
A constant beat that speaks my life story 
Pain strength and an unbelievably analytic mind
Fuck the what ifs 
Let's talk about the why's in so many layers that we get lost 
Stumbling grumbling under my breath
This life will never cease to amaze me

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Nursery rhyme

Honey baby darling dear
Lay your head and don't you fear

Those that creep 
Have lost the ability to weep

And though you may think this is a blessing
I ask of you to attempt some reassessing 

The loss of tears is great
For nothing else can abate 

(a hate filled heart) 
That cannot part

With those tangible forms of pain
Shall indeed suffer in vain 

Saturday, April 12, 2014

This crick in my neck

Shall I relate to you 
The way in which I saw those stars

It seemed that only I 
Could truly see them for their wonder
A wonder pure and untechnical 

Every night I craned my neck 
Just to glimpse those
Shiny specks of hope

I fancied I saw the faintest hues of 
Blue and red 
A promise of other masses out there

Floating in that infinite amount of space 
Where my pain looks quite small and insignificant 

As the days passed and my wonder grew
I noticed others did not crane their necks as I did
Did they not see and feel the infinite amounts of hope and doom and desperation? 

Again I wonder
Can't they hear ants walk


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Los Angeles, CA, United States
. all writings posted here are written by me, take without permission and i'll slit your throatmuahahahaha. seriously, don't