Thursday, November 18, 2010


I finished a glove in two days. It would have only taken one, but I was too busy to keep going.

Did I tell you all that I knit?

Its something I've been doing for quite a few months now, and I adore it.

My friend C is in the hospital. She hasn't told me what happened or why, but I assume that she'll reveal it to me when I visit her. I would have visited today, but my mother came up with a few reasons why we just couldn't, even after I called work and told them I would be an hour or two late.

I'd like to tell you all why I spent some time crying last night. This isn't easy for me, because I'm still in the "crying=weakness" mindset, and I don't like appearing less than or wanting in front of anyone.

My little brother and I used to fight like cats and dogs. We would quarrel over the tiniest things and for the longest time. Last night I wasn't in the greatest of moods, and I was mean to him over something silly. Yes, I said that he should just not talk to me, and yes I did call him retarded. I understand that the pain I felt from his retaliating words is probably the same pain he felt from my beginning words.

But he knows how to hurt me, and he uses the same phrases every time we have a spat.

I think I've mentioned before how behind I am in what is typically conceived as a "normal" life. I have my permit, but not my license. I have a job, but I've gone quite a long time without one. I am not in college, nor do I know what I would do or study if I were in college.

I'm twenty years old. I've lived away from home multiple times, all for short periods because something just always didn't work out. I'm not prepared for life in any way.

I don't know what to do about this. I don't know where to go, or if I should talk to someone. I'm completely and totally lost. Most of the time, when I'm down about this, I wish that someone would just take my hand and tell me what I should do, because I have no clue.

So maybe you all know what I'm talking about?

Saturday, November 6, 2010

A Note to a Friend

A longish time ago, in a wrecked state of mind, I wrote an almost-suicide note to my best friend. I've edited some of it down, and I'm going to post it here.

I think I should point out that when I did this, drugs were still running through my system.

So yeah, I'm a bit better.
But I found it almost charming, this letter from my past self.

I don't know when you'll ever see this. I don't know what will have happened by then. I am so sad. I don't even know what this means, why I do. But then again I do know, it's because no one understands it anymore, the way I wonder at things and elaborate on them and everyone just doesn't listen or doesn't care and says I think too much. It's like how we said before--we'll figure it out and then we'll die. I'm just waiting for my truck to hit me and I miss you so much, because you would understand. Wouldn't you? Would you? Sometimes when we talk I feel like you're only half-listening and just waiting to talk yourself.

I don't like being a mean cynical old hag, I really don't. But I am.

I feel suspended in mid-air, like all the things I've ever thought about are completely uncertain and I can never get back in the box, now I'm a sphere but because I'm so open I think about both sides and now nothing makes sense because it can't make sense and it won't make sense and it could make sense if I just step into the box but I can't because I don't want to be that person. And maybe I've had all my opportunities and never taken them and never stood up so now I don't get anymore. And now I'm just a sheep in the masses and you know, this whole life thing is pointless. Because all we want is to be remembered but sometime down the line we all get forgotten so what's the point? Yeah old things are remembered, like Gilgamesh. But there was a whole other time, a whole other ancient before that.

I just wish all my puzzle pieces would fit together right but they won't because I missed something--I've always missed something.

When I was a very little girl I had a dream that God was talking to me. And I got so scared of this giant voice that no one else heard that I just shut my eyes and balled myself up and didn't listen.

I feel like I should have listened, but instead I was a stupid silly girl, like usual.

And there went something amazing. Something important that I missed.

Ashley, I used to live for things. I used to live for music and singing and everyone said I was good at it and it came so naturally. And then the loneliness ate it up and everything else and eventually it just dried up and I couldn't do it anymore. Yesterday I sang. Yesterday I was good again. Yesterday I was beautiful and brilliant and sexy and amazing and everything was right for just a few songs from Phantom of the Opera and the Lion King.

And then no one will listen again. And now I'm here, writing you something that may be a suicide note but I just don't know or understand.

I mean, why do people throw their friendships away? It's the most important thing.

And why are people so obsessed with fitting in and being in love more than being themselves and loving everyone else? Love is just pure narcissism. It's just making someone feel good so that they will make you feel good and back and forth and up and down and all around and it's ribbons tying up the heart and choking it to death and don't these people understand that that love with that person won't last? It may, there's a chance, but for the most part we're always growing so shouldn't they not commit so fully, for life, with this person? Because if they grow apart, chances are they're stuck or in pain. Financially it's just not smart.

Like that saying "only the rich can afford to divorce" well shouldn't it be a step before that? Only the rich can afford to marry and then twenty years later divorce?

It's a fleeting little hot spot that will grow cold one day. Unless you're super lucky and not only is your lover your lover but also your soulmate. But then again the older souls are just split up more so you can have dozens upon dozens of soulmates. and love each of them. Right?

Tell Chelsie that I'm very thankful to her. She and Kaylah showed me what true friendship was for the first time.

that's not to say we were never true friends--we were, we are still.

But we were thrown together and mixed up and our friendship isn't necessarily just because we like each other--it's that we're entwined somehow, that we had to be friends or else our lives wouldn't have moved forward in the right way.

The only thing is...I'm pretty sure my life is stopped. I keep thinking "no, there's always tomorrow, you aren't even twenty yet, when you're thirty you'll look back and see that this was just silly and you were just young."

but I've never seen myself as older. Its just blank.

I'm scared to death (haha, you'll see the humor in that statement some day) that I'm going to be ordinary. plain. just another machine.

I can't do it anymore. Even my plans of going to NYC, even the thought of my plans to go's like I've fantasized it so much that it's already happened and now I'm done. I've gone there and I've done things in my head, and now the universe won't let me do them for real.

Something was there, in my soul, but it was morning. It was morning, the time, and it was also morning, the feeling. It was new and dawny and pleasant and gorgeous and there was my connection again. And it made me feel tingly and not alone.

But it won't give me anything but a sense of peace.

I had a dream today when I was napping that there were two shadow dogs in my grandparent's house and they were trying to attack us all and eat us and I yelled, I roared, and my voice almost but not quite was a Lion's roar and they went away. And then I pushed it down and it was on the floor and it was physical and I could beat it and when I finished beating it it had peed on the kitchen floor, right in front of the stove. and I picked it up and I carried it to a room I'd never seen before where the doors were hooks to the walls and netting in the spaces the walls were missing but instead of a vicious black dog it was a leopard. And then a panther. and some sort of small panther though, like a really big black and brown cat. and I remember looking at it and feeling regret and I wished i hadn't have hurt it. And then I realized that it wasn't a dog, it was a cat, and I love cats. I just hurt something I loved.

Then it began to awaken lying on the bed in the middle of the room, and I closed the door and tried to put up netting but I knew that wouldn't hold it, but maybe just maybe it would. and the cat was my sister, she woke up and sat up and we talked and laughed about something and then I woke up and thought about how much I'd like to be a lion. Not a lioness, but a lion, with a full mane.

Remember when I told you that some people die when they weren't supposed to? And how I thought it worked both ways and that sometimes maybe people who were supposed to have died lived instead? When they weren't supposed to? And how I thought I was one of those people?

(Here I told her about a theory I had and a story that I had to go with it. I tell her to write it.)

I'd do it myself, but I just don't feel it anymore. I just don't understand anything, but yet I understand everything.

I felt like I should be a transparent eyeball, like Emerson says. And this time I'll not repel everything because it has two sides, I'll pick what I love and believe and like and what I don't care for, and I'll suck it into myself and let it paint itself on my skin and color the twinkles in my eyes and let it whisper into my hair. And there I'll sit in the stars.

And the scientists? they're wrong. they aren't just giant balls of gas. they're the world's lovers and a race of their own. They are where dancers and grace are born and sent to us way down here.

So maybe, hopefully, I'll do that and be that and everything will be fine.

Ignorance is bliss, knowledge is conflicting, but loving and accepting things is the stuff where dreams thrive. I want to thrive again.

I have been cutting myself open and sewing myself up, but not physically.

You were right.

I'm not sure anymore, what to do. I don't want to outright make myself die. But if it happens sometime soon, at least now you'll know all of this.

Hah, the little there is to know from my brain. I only put down about 1/99th of what I've figured out. Oh well.

If I do die sometime or somehow, recognize me in other things, and other places. I don't believe that time is linear, i believe it is cicular and intertwining in the most elaborate fashion. I believe my life now is also my life then, and another is here on this earth at this moment in a different place. Hell, maybe all the good feelings we get from places is just a future or past self saying hello in passing. if that makes sense, hahaha!

Do me a favor. if I don't die for another ten to fifty years, don't speak of this message to me. The next time we speak on the phone, don't bring it up or hint at it, or ever again.

By the way, if I do die you can bet your bottom dollar I'll fight through hell and highwater (hmm. maybe literally?) to come visit your board and cards and self and dreams. So it's never really goodbye, right?

See you on the flipside.

fuck tumblr

It has this allure to it all
but honestly it just sucks your soul out
and I'm sick of not having real friends
when did I let myself be satisfied with only online?
ugh fuck it all
I want skin-on-skin contact and earth and things bigger and better
I want to shove it in my mouth and have to spit it out because there's just too much at once

Monday, September 20, 2010


Combat boots.
Forget to remember.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

i luff u all

and that's all I really need to say about that

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Let's Try to Keep This Steady, Now.

Oh my goodness gracious I have not written on this in forever.

Mainly because I've become absolutely obsessed with tumblr.

But I've gotten your comments and I thank you for them!

So. What to talk about.

Oh! Well for one thing I finally got a job!!!!!!!!

It's at Culver's, which is this neat chain of burger/frozen custard joints. The food there is excellent and I am excited to be working there!!

Also on Thursday I have a job interview for Sears, so hopefully I can get both jobs fully up and running. Oh to have money and a bank account again!!

I've been reading more lately!

L. M. Montgomery makes me cry so much, especially in the later books, when we meet Walter. I don't know what it is about that name but I love it so much; every literary character named Walter I adore, and least the ones I've met so far.

I believe you meet and absorb so much more than others believe. I think you can roll around in bed with a song and confess secrets to characters in books or movies. I believe that the stars above are ethereal beings of wisdom. I don't care what the scientists say, they are, and Caspian married one.

The main point of this being that I forgot how good books are to me. And Anne Shirley is probably one of my favorite ladies ever (aside from Ms. Gaga!). I can daydream on my own and not feel silly. I can speak in the tongue of purple prose and ignore those who would look down their noses at me for it.

Screw a semblance of normality, I'll take eaves dripping with faerie dust as the echoes of childhood call across valleys.

That's another thing--I forgot how to look at things. Observing them with the right mindset is half the point of telling a successful story. And we should enjoy the nature we have left.

I need to gain self-discipline again, control the parts of my mind that affect the mishaps in my life.

Statusi specifica--stop thinking about things that would never actually help me. aka...the boy.

Love is important, but I'm not ready and there's a part of me that knows deep down that it's not going to happen.

I do want something, though. Not necessarily from him, but from someone nice. I wonder if I could have a one-night kiss. Nothing sexual, just something wonderful for me to sigh about later.

I'm going to improve my vocabulary. This tumblr-speak thing has to stop.

Sometimes I feel like I should go off the grid for a bit.

God, if I could. In a year I'll make my move, even if it's just traveling across the USA for a month. I don't want to feel so ashamed about not being so "caught up" with normal people. So I let it slack that I didn't get a permit until I was 19, so I've only had one job for 9 months a year ago. So I sucked at school and didn't go to college.

Fuck all of that. I am going to believe that there is a higher purpose for me again, and that all of my laziness is going to be for a reason, now that I'm deciding not to be lazy. That everything will end up being good and maybe even wonderful.

Friday, June 4, 2010

There Was A Point To This, I Swear...

So, I'm tired of being depressing.

I think my lack of a decent non-vampire sleeping schedule is the problem (not that there is anything wrong with vampires, I love them, I used to want to be one, but right now I like the image of me, older, dewy grass and gardening and making a home and baking love and such. I know, I'm sentimental.).

So I went to sleep around 9:41 last night, and woke up at 6:32 this morning! Yes!!

And as of now it's 7:40.

Let me tell you all something--I am not a breakfast person.

I adore mornings, but breakfast? Not so much. I just don't feel like opening my big fat mouth to absorb things before noon. Now, don't get me wrong--I love breakfast foods. Just not at breakfast time. That's why some of my favorite dinners were when mom mixed it up and we had "Breakfast for Dinner" nights.

Now, when I was younger, my family used to have breakfast together pretty regularly and it was a big cooking bonanza deal, with dad blaring Larry Norman or the Beatles or CCR or whatever else he felt like that morning. Mom would be chopping the potatoes for home fries, while also whisking up some eggs and frying bacon and then using the grease from the bacon to make gravy and putting biscuits in the oven and do not come in here it is a warzone just let me cook in peace!!! being screa--I mean. Being said every few minutes. Sternly.

Don't judge her on that, though. You'd do it too if you had five kids to feed and a husband who blared random oldies throughout the entire house.

Anyway, it wasn't that bad, but it was busy and loud and of course us kids would set the table and get everyone up and help with the biscuits. It was great.

So those types of breakfasts I can do.

I realize, of course, that for the past five or eight years I've been ignoring the mantra that is forcibly pushed on every schoolchild in America--Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

And Rachel Ray says that you should eat like a king for breakfast, a queen for lunch (no, that wasn't a gay joke. It could be. I do have "hagging rights" but I don't use them. Much. Anyway.), and a pauper for dinner. It's a good formula. I should use it.

But I just don't. Rather, I haven't. Starting today (yes, today), I am a new woman. I am accomplished. I am happy. I am striving to be more than what I am.

Today, I have goals.

Today, I will have pancakes.

At first I figured we just couldn't do that because we need buttermilk and raisins and I'm at my grandparents house so while I know they have 32446313424 baking materials, I got on good word from a source that we don't have either of those ingredients so I was bummed for like two seconds.

But I told that source about this recipe and showed her it, and she (okay I will admit that the source is just my grandmother) agreed that we must do this now.

Did you know that buttermilk is just milk and a little bit of vinegar? Crazy.

This also means that I can make my snickerdoodles.

Rejoice to the Morning Gods, the Baking Gods, and that feeling you get at the start of something new.