Uncategorized

new phone, who’s this?

 

… sorry i haven’t posted in a while. I was sleeping…

 

stories of a stoner girl

for the past three years.

 

i moved across the country. currently living in los angeles. its been two and a half years and i feel like i’m still getting my bearings. one of the biggest things is feeling like i fit in, like i belong. and i guess in a city of transplants you’re never really going to belong.. but at least i thought i would start to feel like it.

 

i guess i figured since i was moving across the country that meant i had to “grow up” in a way – and i guess running a blog called storiesofastonergirl where i talked about failed romance and other thc fueled ramblings – i had to let it go.

 

but so far nothing else that’s come my way has offered even anything close to the solace of these stories. so i’m back. and for good i think this time.

 

because fuck it. honestly. i’m tired of feeling alone.

i can’t be the only one out here confiding their secrets about love and success or the lack of the two into the void.

 

who else is out there?

 

leave me a message. drop a comment. hit like. I’m pretty much back from the dead ya’ll. Lazarus rising. letsgoooooo.

 

 

 

 

Standard
relationships, storiesofastonergirl

total eclipse of the <3

oh, you.

ohhhhhhhh you, you, you, you.

tumblr_static_tumblr_static__640

you want me when you want me.
never when I want you.

& that makes me miss you so much.
and it makes me question everything I am, love.

correction:
no comma,
I am love.

and how dare I allow my gentle self to feel anything else.

but I am a fool
and my fragile heart
manipulated
by the false assurance,
your false dominance
that fills my nights
until I am alone
still
quiet,
quite
still.

I am tired.
my bones ache with the age of the times
the responsibility
the burden
of the lives
that have lived
so many lives
that have lived
without care
without remorse
lived
laughed
loved
lived
laughed
fucked
lived
laughed
lied.

things will be fine
things will work out
things are ok
there’s no reason to panic.

my country burns
hearts are on fire
while meanwhile
I waste my idle time
waiting for love
working hard for love
waiting for love
waiting for life
waiting for a new life in love
when my real love lives
on
with someone else
lives a life in love
with somebody else

many bodies else
I don’t know.

how many bodies?
how many happy bodies?

how many happy
submissive
silent
caring
quiet
futile
muted
dominated
other women
will it take for
you
to know
how truly
deeply

how long
I have felt
this love

this true
this deep
this long

this
true
deep
long
love
for
you.

does it matter
how wet you get
when the ground beneath us
is as dry as the barren crone.

keep fucking
keep fucking up
let’s all just
see what happens next
because what the fuck

does any of it really matter
if our mouths don’t move
and our hearts don’t beat
and our hands don’t type.

is any of it real?
does a bear shit in the woods?

true colors
are tones
of gray
and murky
with the thoughts
of day to day
we’re vile
and we’re perfect
and we search for god
and curse the skies
disrespect the earth
drink too much
break up
ignore that text
shout in the street
piss on the concrete

because none of us
fucking love ourselves
enough
to say
enough.

xx

 

 

Standard
love, relationships, storiesofastonergirl

#dontbescared

 

 

it took a few days to recover, but I’ve been dealt worse blows than this.

 

 

despite it all, I still believe in love. I still think you’re out there. at this hour. maybe even thinking about me. Somewhere in a bar with glitter on your face. Your hair and your clothes covered in your sweet sweat and your voice deep and soft, talking to a friend or someone you’ve just met about something brilliant or removed.

 

I dreamt about you last night… again. Sometimes in bed I ask my mind to see you in my dreams. Usually it works. You had a woman on your arm this time. Someone I’ve met.  She cast a spell to keep you at her side. But you didn’t want to be there. You were talking to another girl, through text that I saw in my dream. Someone I had never heard of. You were pleading to her, to get away from this one who holds you captive in her seemingly passive but severe & supernatural grip.

 

I don’t know if I’m an option anymore, but in my dreams you still watch me. When I ask for you, you still come to me.

 

so maybe. we’ll see.

 

But I’ve got to say I’m so tired of waiting. I just want to wake up next to someone near the beach and be in love.

 

Nigerian Prince shit the bed faster than you could change the sheets. I knew the mistake we made before we made it, and all the while while we made it. but we gave in to the carnal kind of pleasure we both wanted, before we knew a thing about each others’ soul. it left us wanting and surrounded by a false sense of intimacy, which lead to a feeling of duty and a heavy burden of pretense and commitment. We both ran from it with our heads still turned back looking towards each other.

 

What could have been? What if we waited?

 

Maybe it’d be the same as where we stand now. separate and silent. our heads buried too deep into our personal pursuits for success that we’re blind to the notion of settling down.

 

But baby, I don’t want to settle down. I want to soar.

 

I’d love to have someone at my side for that ride, you know.

 

I saw a photo of my first love and his eyes looked tired. that kind of broke my heart. please don’t tell me that you let your dreams die inside those sleepy hills and please don’t tell me you’ve laid yourself down beside those mountains and surrendered yourself to rest.

 

because when I knew you there was a fire that burned too bright even for me. and that was something I loved most.

 

I think it was something even she might have loved most. so for your family, don’t let the coals go cold.

 

ignite your soul again and burn forever.

 

and I’ll say it until the end of time, I loved you better than any of the rest. And I’m sorry I didn’t know it then.

 

and thank you for loving me better than any of the rest. they try but they don’t know me like you do.

 

and sometimes I think maybe that’s for the best.

 

I’m not that same girl. but I remember her with with a sad respect. she had wounds beyond the scope of normal suffering. I understand them now, but I don’t lick them anymore.

 

I don’t need to.

And its not something I should continue to apologize for. I forgive myself completely. Probably the last person on the long list of people who’ve needed to forgive me for the carnage from the blind suffering I endured.

 

I’ve lived, I’ve loved, I’ve learned

 

really you couldn’t have asked for more

 

thank the beautiful sweet, sexy and scary gods I didn’t…

 

 

who knows how much more I could hold inside this heart.

I’m willing to test my limits though.

 

 

 

#dontbescared

 

 

xx

 

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alternative, love, mercury retrograde, relationships, storiesofastonergirl, writing

thinking bout you

 

 

“or do ya not think so far – ahead.

cause I been thinkin bout forever.”

 

 

 

still haven’t learned any of my own lessons. in case anyone was wondering.

 

 

but I’ve decided to drastically change my life and move across the country. six months. deadlines and motivation.

 

even more drastically, I’ve decided to stop living my life for anybody that isn’t me. and I’m trying to stop putting so much stock of my happiness in other people.

 

Nigerian Prince tho, still has some kind of hold on me. I’ve never wanted to fuck the shit out of some one so much but also like hold hands and walk through fields of flowers smiling and giggling without a care in the world.

 

 

god damn that good good devil dick.

 

also text messages.

I wish I could ban my own self from sending them – for like two hours increments at a time.

 

NO RAGRATS. except all of the things I do regret.

 

which is about every other text message I’ve sent you.

and all the other ones I never sent to someone else.

 

 

xx

 

 

 

Standard
love, relationships

word to the wise

I think the Russians are watching me so I gotta keep it quick.

 

1dda1a1ce5d2f0ddeed4bfcfd2ca32ff.jpg

LOL. I’m kidding, ….obviously…???…….. ?  8(-_____-)8

HAH.

 

No, please. Let’s take a break from that. plz. My poor heart. My achey, breaky heart. No more politicks. PLZ.

 

 

LEZ TALK ABOUT LUV

And a quick word to the wise.

 

 

So I’m infatuated again – big surprise. This Nigerian Prince. Sorry. The Nigerian Prince. Has turned my solo bad girl, not catching the feels, sorry but I don’t, kind of lifestyle and dumped it out, right over onto its head, and turned on the trash disposal.

Too soon. Way too soon, to be catching the feels. But its just what the Princes do to you.

I’m just tired of making any more decisions. And there’s something about him that just takes control. And you know what? That feels really nice for a change. Because for now, anyway. Like 75% of me trusts where its going. But then there’s also the other 25% that needs to take this “Word to the Wise” advice and sit the fuck down and wait this one out.

Because I’m pretty sure its going to be worth waiting for.

 

 

SO. Here it is. I’ve found in my experience anyway, that I hold romantic partners to a higher communicative standard than I do some of my closest and longest standing friends.

And taking a zoom out, looking at it objectively, I don’t think that’s fair.

For example, Prince texted me a few times today – really nice. Saying hello, a few other things. He’s a Professional Vacationer (lol) and so, sometimes I just doubt like what he’s actually doing… Even though its totally legit. Not an actual vacationer, reader.. But like kind of close to it.

 

 

TO COMPARE- I called my own goddamned sister today – and another close, close friend of mine. Both didn’t answer. No big. Not offended. They never called me back either. Still not offended.

I texted Prince like an hour ago and asked him what his conference was about, after he said he was going out, and after we were texting all day. He hasn’t answered me. I’m Offended.

 

LOL.

SEE A DIFFERENCE HERE?!?

Yeah. Me too.

So let’s change that. Just a word to the wise.

 

 

 

ANOTHA ONE: #dumptrump

One last jab at that stupid motherdaughterfucker

“You’re outta your element Donny”

 

don’t mess.

 

 

xx

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alternative, writing

the anomie

lol.

look at your browser history.  just pick a random day.

lol.

I started writing this dystopian novel about a world where the government owns everything and shit. TO BE HONEST I probably should n’t be talking that much about it. The Anomie. Its a fucking mind trip man, plus two halves, equaling a whole. It’ll get you way spun, even sober; trying to plot and chart and feel and live and fucking breathe and die and try to fucking figure this thing out.

But I love it and I need it. And that’s what it is about writing that makes me feel alive. But it also kinda kills me at the same time. Paradox, write? lol. actually.

I like to have a little fun. I’m a nerd for manipulating the english language. I’m also a few drinks deep and probably should be in bed. Because we’re approaching that hour when nothing good can ever happen. but U KNO WUT? Not much good happened today anyway, so I’m willing to test my luck.

I just ate a salad with my hand and opened another beer. so c’mon now, let’s bring it on.

I miss this One Guy so much. but I also think that I’m exaggerating.. Like I honestly think its helped me a bit in character development for this one nutcase character who’s after a man she only sees in her dreams.

I hardly know him. But that’s what so alluring and like….. fucking stupid. lol. seriously. But also what is so mysterious and dangerous and enchanting and challenging and awesome and spooky cool and scary but nice and new and idek. so who gives a fuck but I do and that’s that and good for him, he hardly knows about it because I keep it all to myself. but there it is. on an anonymous blog post about how I’m writing a novel.

He’s been a muse. for me. a silent, steady, almost sad but sacred kind of muse for me. and he’ll probably never know that. which makes it all the more special to me.

I went out with a girl from work tonight and I actually had a really good time. I bought my first “Dub” in like two years. lmao ever since I started dating Prankster Pants I’ve hardly paid for the Mary Wanna. It was nostalgic and cute and fun and reckless in a  way.

That shit really needs to be legal though. Like I know I use it recreationally, but ok. People drink alcohol. How many seizures have been stopped by Budweiser???

How????

HOW MANY???

lol.

loljk. IM NOT.

Speaking of kidding. I’ve started doing stand up. and that shit is hilarious. I will say though, that I’ve already met a fellow comic that wants to date me. and WHILE YES. he is super nice, really funny, incredibly charming and well connected. I am NOT about to sleep my way to anywhere in whatever kind of industry.

I make it a clear point not to sleep with people. which makes them less inclined to do things for me. LoL One Guy, But all of them. and that’s fine!! that’s how I’d rather have it. let me be a bro. let me do what you do and not what you won’t with other bros. BECUS IM AT UR LEVEL. I’m actually above it if you consider super ancient spiritual paths, because u kno, i give life and shit. BUT THAT S NOT IMPORTANT!!!?!. carry on anyways. I dot wanna suck ya dick. don’t hate me for it. try not to.

If you’re the One Guy. I might want to. holy hell on earth do I want to. But I’m gonna be kind of  an asshole and make you wait for it. THEN Be completely silent about it. Let you think I don’t give a fuck. But in my tightest circles I’m telling only my closest friends how much I kind of miss you.

and I really wish I had. done. something.

BUT THEN AGAIN

r u a fuckboy?

idk. yet

could be.

should be.

but plz don’t b.

VOTE JILL STIEN OR FUCKING MICKEY ROONEY. FUCK THIS TWO PARTY BULLSHIT

xx

Standard
alternative, politics

yo homies

 

 

america is real fucked up rn.

 

zoom_Andrea-Mary-Marshall-Self-Portrait-Jumping-the-Extension-Cord-No-2

 

& that’s got me feeling all sorts of ways.

 

 

hey big brother, this is your little sister speaking.

 

LISTEN UP

 

 

WTF is this election? Without election fraud, Bernie Sanders wins by a landslide on the Democratic ballot, defeats Trump and the fucking world could’ve lived in peace for a couple months of years of all the rest of eternity..

 

Hillary Cface Clinton is a lying& manipulative and is so bloodthirsty for power she has blatantly rigged the DNC, RIGHT IN FRONT OF OUR FACES. And what do we do? We occupied Philadelphia. We protested at the DNC. Wikileaks revealed the corruption.

 

and it was all silent on the forefront of mainstream american media.

 

FRIENDS.

 

WE NEED HELP.

 

 

THE TREE OF LIBERTY IS THIRSTY FOR THE MF BLOOD OF REVOLUTIONARIES.

 

empty out your diva cups bitches to water the tree of liberty.

 

 

I was going to write about sex with the ex. doing stand up comedy in the city. being in love with a man who hardly cares I exist. Dreaming of that same man who lives like some odd 100 miles away. Joining the circus and cross dressing as Sherlock Holmes.

 

 

But for some reason, all that seems a little bit secondary at the moment.

 

VIVE LE REVOLUTION.

 

because its motherfucking coming.

 

hard.

 

xx

 

 

Standard
love, Uncategorized

late night love

 

 

 

ohhhh. its been a long, long time. my friend.

 

 

and an even longer time still, for some things.

 

 

cleaning the cobwebs off. I don’t feel much like explaining myself. I just feel like pouring out a bit of this ache into some poetic enchantments so I won’t have to deal with them anymore.

 

 

I miss you so much. But you’re a man who’s left no trace. Its wrong of me now to even think about contacting you. But no one has ever been the same. I don’t think I’ve ever been the same.

 

I thought you were always going to be there. I thought that I could do anything and that was wrong. I thought I could say anything. And that was so wrong. We were so young, and I  needed so much. I still need so much. But I’ve learned to be stronger. I’ve learned that I’ll never get the real thing I’m craving. But I’ll find it in the right places, in other places. And I do.

 

You see, for just about the longest time since I can remember, I’ve been looking for something to satisfy this dull but constant aching in my heart. And I know it sounds so melancholy and dramatic, but its real, just like any kind of back pain or knees or neck, is real. And this pain, I’d dull it down with alcohol, with weed, rolling, trolling, having sex. And when it’d get to be too much I’d lash out, like people do when they’re in pain. And I’d find myself the victim of it, or worse, the people that I really love.

 

Sometimes I’d tell myself that I’m not really in that much pain at all. Just like people with bad backs try to lift things they shouldn’t lift. I’d still try to use my heart and think it wouldn’t break.

 

But it wasn’t healed, and I hadn’t taken care of it. So it was never going to get better unless I tried to leave it alone for a while. Take the time, make the mends, to let it heal on its own.

 

 

In the mean time. Of leaving it alone. The people you love find new people to love. The people you love that you’ve treated like absolute shit get tired of it. Their back doesn’t hurt, they don’t need to take a rest. So they keep lifting, they keep moving.

 

Now that I feel ready to move again. I find out that I am most definitely, one hundred percent, infinity times infinity times, too late.

 

and that just might break my heart all over again.

 

and it does, sometimes, when I sit and think about it.

 

for a lot of different reasons

and in a lot of different ways.

 

But I really can’t be that sad. Because at least now I can move. At least I’m back out of repair. At least I can try to join the others now, a few years behind, but maybe try and catch up.

 

I loved a man who taught me how not to leave a trace. And I try really hard these days to still live the way he taught me. I know that I could never move to rural vermont and be a home body. My life is in my work and I’m doing a damned good job right now getting this all together. I’m just about done on this stupid ass feature that I actually hate. But its important to have something finished. … just to have it…. stupid, I know. But there’s a game to this kind of thing. slowly but surely I’m learning the rules. mostly so I can find out which ones I can disregard…

 

I really just wrote all this because writing you a letter at this point is beyond inappropriate. and maybe there’s a chance somewhere at some point in time and in life that you’ll see this and just know: there is infinite love for you in my heart. forever and ever. you just knew me at a time when I wasn’t ready to love. And now that I am I can’t understand how I ever let you go. In some ways I do, because — like I said, career path and all.. But I feel like you would have stayed by me. It would have been such a more pleasurable path if we were in this together.

 

 

I just miss you like hell, more like heaven I guess.

 

and I never properly grieved your loss because part of me always thought you’d be back.

 

I found out about five months ago though, he had a baby. a boy.

 

 

and I didn’t show it then, but my heart broke for about a week straight after that. because that was when I knew it was done. I don’t know if I ever thought we could get back together. But I just always thought I could see you again. Just feel your presence. Just be near you.

 

Now that I know that’s not something I can ever have… Its difficult to describe the depth of regret I feel for the ways I’ve acted to him.

 

But to regret is to go mad. and to go mad… I’ve already done that. no fun.. ! You taught me so much about how to live. and even more about how to love. You taught me a lot more about those things though, after you left me. And that’s something I want you to know.

 

so I just wanted to say thank you. and that I love you forever. Other men I’ve known, like that fucking loser Big and Prankster Pants and even this new British Bloke…. none of them compare. Really. British Bloke is the closest thing… really… but I’m scared I’m losing him too.

 

 

and see, maybe now that’s where all these feelings have found their way out from.

 

Is it possible to have more than one love of your life? Because I feel I’ve already had mine. Any time I feel a heartache coming on, it always ends with you. But never in a bad way. Its just this bitter sweet despondency that I’ll never get to see you. I’ll never hold you again. I’ll never see your sweet smile and those dimples, oh god. they’d drive me crazy with love.

 

just to stroke my fingers through your hair, or to put my head in the middle of your chest. To hear you laugh. To joke. To sit in silence. To cook dinner. To make out. I don’t know what I’d give.

 

… I don’t know if I’d give anything at all

 

 

I don’t think I’d give my life right now though. I don’t even think I’d give up all those other men I’ve dated. Maybe Big though. He was the nail in the coffin for us, love. And he was a fucking moron. Not even worth it at all.

 

But he was also a catalyst to this new grand adventure I call my life.

 

and so maybe for that I ought to be grateful.

 

I just really miss you tonight. and I want you to know, I still love you. And no matter where life takes the two of us; I always will.

 

xx

 

xo.

 

 

Standard
alternative, sustainability

ttyn

I quit my waitressing job over text message. Pissed a lot of people off.

Burnt a bridge, but its better that way. That place was a full blown shit show.

Its the holiday season and that has got me increasingly aggravated as the days go by. My dear mother has been up my ass about my shoe size and that makes me mad because it means she’s buying me shoes when I don’t need shoes. She’s already taken the liberty to buy me a bedset in her taste; which is a mix of Martha Stewart and old victorian glamour.

I know I must sound so ungrateful. But every year I ask her- please don’t get me any junk. I only want things I need. But without fail, every year I go home with a car full of junk that I end up returning, regifting or donating.

It gives me agita.

image

You know what else is giving me agita?!?# This weather!!! IDK where you live, but here in CT it isn’t supposed to be 60degrees in December.

I went for a walk in the warm woods and I was getting mad. I was so dissapointed in the government, prior generations; that they let the world get this way. That its December and its warm as fuck, and nobody even cares because we’re too busy buying shit.

I was behind a slow ass old lady in the grocery store and she was commenting on how “beautiful” this weather was and how “anything is better than snow”. Now I’m not a huge fan of snow, because it requires shoveling, which requires movement. But c’monnnn. GLOBAL WARMING is not a blessing. If we keep on making comments like this we’re all doomed.

I got to thinking, what can I do? How can I combat this ignorant train of thought.

First off, I can stop getting so irritated. Because that only puts out negativity and that only perpetuates a negative cycle.

Second off, whenever I hear a stupid ass comment about this weather being “beautiful” I can smile and say, “oh sure, you know what else is beautiful? The rising sea levels, irregular weather patterns and fucked up bird migrations.” or “you know if you like this warm weather so much, I hear hell is a great place for your kind.”

eh. something like that…

happy holidays.

xx

Standard
alternative media, writing

writers block

GAH FUCK.

images

my brain iz broke.

Can’t write. Can’t think. Can’t live. So I’m taking to the internet to scrape out the residual gunk that may be clogging up the creative freeway.

TRAFFICK IN THE MIND. RUSH HOUR. WATCH OUT.

I’ve been up to a lot of no good lately. And its been really fun. This newest project I’ve taken on is taking off slowly but surely. Next step is I need some sugar mommies and daddies with deep pockets who live in the city and want to invest in a Hunter S. knockoff from Connecticut.

Sometimes though this inspo hits a little close to home. Its kicked up some old feelings that really aren’t pleasant. Necessary evils though, right? That’s how you make the real shit. Feel it.

Its just that, living in such a hyper connected world makes me want to unplug forever and live under a rock. I’m learning though, for the life I essentially want, that’s impossible. I’ve learned I’m actually really behind on most of it and I need to step up my online presence to get competitive. Its not cute to be a recluse when you’re trying to sell yourself.

IDK. maybe it is. I wish it was…

Maybe I can try to make it fashionable.

Its discouraging though. Because like I said – to be competitive, you need to be out there. People live on their phones. Instagram, Snapchat, Facebook, Tinder, whatever else you use… Whatever you see on the screen. That’s your reality, that’s what you’re feeding your mind.

So if you’re. just. not. there. who is going to remember you?

How is that super cute bassist from a band that lives a state away going to get to know you if you don’t post every other day what you look like or what you’re eating, art that you’ve seen, nature you’ve experienced. He’s not!! He’s going to be absorbed in who ever else’s posts he sees.

Yeah. that’s been blocking up a lot in my mind.

Because I really want him to get to know me. But I don’t know how to live my life online. But if I have to live my life online to get his attention, is it really worth having?

Prankster Prince is back in the picture – Holy Yeezus West, seriously I cannot take my own advice. I tell people make clean breaks, but I am the Queen of Holding On Too Long.

I guess it just feels nice, to be appreciated in person. For someone to be able to see me, to understand me, without referencing a profile.

Because the good gods know I’m not about to win anybody new over anytime soon. So is it what I want because its comfortable, or is it comfortable because its what I want?

Gah. Fuck.

But what do I need?

Less noise.

xx

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