left alone to my own devices i start thinking… mostly about how i used to have friends that i could just call up and drive over … or just drive over… show up in the driveway and thats all i needed to do…  If this is what being an adult feels like, can i go back? well not all the way back, but just back to then… with parts of now. I’d bring parts of now with me, hope they could get along. Long “deep and thinky” talks over bonfires. maybe i just have something to prove, that i can be happy. Maybe its to share the happy. maybe its because they signify a time i didn’t have to answer to anyone. Not that i have to now, but I’m so far away that the reckless random takes more effort. Sometimes i wonder how i made it here, nice and stable, but i know if i wanted to walk out to the middle of nowhere and play on a jungle gym drinking gin and Gatorade, most of my life would find that perfectly acceptable.  I lack my sanity and balance. My world seems to have been temporarily distorted.  just another week and hopefully the normal will return. until then…

I got my septum pierced in califorinia as an ode to tiffany compton. She was my partner in crime far more artsy and deep than i could ever hope to be. One of the few who understood my obsession with piercings and tattoos at 16.  Ran through the woods with me in the middle of the night, looking for a swingset. I have sister tattooed on my hip for a few people, its in russian for one, its there for the boys who held my hand. The ones who saw me reckless and mean and I was the first girl they knew to act like one of the guys. Maybe thats my super power, just to be one of the guys. Just girly enough to have the shape and give decent advice, but not so much that I can’t run around in the dark doing stupid shit – or more likely picking up the pieces after they do the stupid shit. I love to lay out at night looking up at the stars, out in the middle of no where. I love to sit on the trunk of my car staring into your eyes.  I love waking up to coffee early in the morning. I love having coffee at two am with old friends. my first tattoo was supposed to represent my sisters. My second to represent fate. maybe I’ll never forget you because you were there with me. the third one was all on my own trying not to clench my teeth. The 4th one, my little brothers held my hand and egged me on. The last one, out of spite. To prove my independence and start the beginning of the end.  And now, the next one, a celebration.

i think i give up. maybe i’ll be illogical later. maybe i’ve used up all my logical, its on limited supply at the moment. I thought i had more saved up than that, but i guess not.

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