Men

I am extremely obsessive. I hate it. 

I get all fucked up in the head over a boy,

a new one everytime, everyear.

This time it's someone I think is actually worth 

something.

I'm not sure what really.

Is it only the fact that he's handsome?

No, it's the fact that he touched me,

no, not that either. It's the way he touched me,

and the way he looked at me, the silly things he'd say.

God, why do I love that boy?

I don't know. I really do not know.

For the life of me, I would forget, forgive, release

it all, if I could, I would.

But I can't. For a long time I wouldn't.

But now I just can't. 

And no amount of songwriting will make it better.

In fact, today I realized it actually makes it worse.

I wonder what he'd think if he knew.

He probably wouldn't give a shit.

If I could just find a good boy to love and like 

and write real love songs about,

ones that last, ones that don't make you feel

fucking sad, lonely, depressed.

Seriously, what the fuck am I gonna do when 

I'm not like this?

What the fuck am I gonna write about? Really?

Like Henry Chinaski. Maybe that's why he did all 

them whores. So he'd have something to write about.

Cuz all the good stuff ain't worth writing about.

Nobody wants to read that shit.

Of course everything I just said is bullshit.

I know it ain't true. I know it's not true.

I'm gonna do the November novel writing challenge this month.

I'm pretty excited about it.

I think I will write a novel about my stupid (non-existent) love affairs.

Yes, that is what i will do. 

I mean, that's pretty much what Chinaski/Bukowski did.

I'll call it Men.

Perfect.

And perhaps an occasional female.

Ok. Perfect.

Then it can be gay, and I can be queer. 

Yay.

Maybe I'll even have sex with a gay man in it.

Yes! that would be so fucking hot!

 

Best Friends Forever

so this girl

man, this little girl

and she was little

all skinny, small, stick-thin-slender

and so spastic, I was in love at the first

scream and holler and rock-your-body-back-and-forth

movement of her tiny hips and big mouth full of beautiful perfect teeth

and the symmetry of yelps between her and her best friend forever

who played the bass. 

I was in shock, in love, in awe

and sooooooo happy!

omg. do they know how happy-making they are?

I was jealous, jealous to be them. 

Like that one day when Ish and I were riding through the town 

on a cruiser and a tall bike. We were the shit. We were the envy

of everyone. 

Tonight I wanted her, wanted not so much to be her,

but to be as authentic. I was like, whoa, where did this girl come from?

where did she come from?  

She came from Minneapolis!

Yes! The good ol'e Mid West!

woot woot.

anyway, I have big plans to ride to Tacoma tomorrow so I should sign off.

many things going on in my head, but then that is always the case.

Love,

Anna