last night

i had a marvelous dream about you.
i was wondering when you would come visit me, and it finally happened.
we were staying in some swanky hotel and drinking in the streets, i was running away from the police. i don't remember everything but we were having like, major fun.
when the dream ended we were standing in the entry way of this gold building. everything was gold. the ceilings, the walls, the floors.
i was crying and smiling at the same time, and i said "i miss you so much."
you just had this smile on your face that was both affectionate and goofy and you said, "i miss you too sheila." you walked out the door.
thanks desha.



is desha's funeral. im both distraught and glad that i can't be there.

this week was packed with a lot of tears panic attacks clients relapsing text messaging henry rollins at the kimo (i love that man, he is exactly what i aspire to be in terms of a grown up punk. hes almost 50 and the most punk person alive other than exene and ian) trader joes wedding dress sketches heroes season 1 trying to catch a mouse project runway making dr appointments

i dont often ask for support, but ill be honest: i really need it right now. i so appreciate those of you who emailed me or called me. it's just lonely being out here when i so badly would like to be in GA or PA. i miss her. i was in a mental mess before this happened and its just getting worse.

it's so fucked up that she's dead. so unfair. i dont believe in praying to a god, myself, but if you do, go for it. pray for her and her family. pray thats she's on a beach somewhere in the clouds getting a tan and having endless margaritas. pray that her family and her friends will get through this, somehow.
when people die i've always understood why the ones left behind cling to a notion of religion or God or heaven- it can provide some solace. and why would i begrude anyone that kind of comfort in a fucking shitty situation like this one. and for some people, that is their truth.
not believing in anything is sometimes more like standing alone observing hell unfold. its not like that 95% of the time, but sometimes it makes me tired. it would be easier for me to believe- but i just don't.
i do consider myself a buddhist at heart, and have been repeating the five remembrances as much as i can. i just can't imagine a day when i will actually get to that point.

i guess being an atheist takes just as much comittment and struggle as believing in god. we're all in this together, huh.



grief is normal.
how much grief is normal?
how little?
what does that mean

grief is totally abnormal, like a fucking monster chewing on your guts.
but its a familiar feeling, at the same time.
when my friend keys died, i remember i would forget for a few minutes or a few hours and then suddenly i would remember. and my whole body would ache.

my heart feels heavy.
the human body amazes me and scares me, and makes me want to cling to its form even more because of how absolutely stunning and special it is.


day 2 of knowing.

i'm so confused, thoughts are just racing through my head and i dont know what to do with them, where to put them, how to stop them.

deaths hit me hard. death has been my obsession my whole life. i still think often of almost every person i've ever known who has died. i dream about them. i miss them.

talked to a few high school friends today. broke down a lot. cried and told natalie how much i missed her, because i dont want to miss the opportunity to say that, ever.

grief is confusing.
in some ways i feel like my sadness compares in no way to the pain of her current friends.
in other ways i feel like my sadness is justified, because i grew up with her and spent some of the most formative years of my life with her.

i hated high school. without a doubt.
but i also had the greatest group of friends, ever. friends that were my little family, and still are, to this day. powerful, incredible girls who are now women that i am so grateful to know.
i wish she knew how much she had meant to me and to everyone.

i know people torture themselves with that thought, and what's the point? because she's gone.

memento mori.


trying desperately to remember

everything about her.

homeroom together, every day for four years, where she cracked me up endlessly. we used to braid each other's hair.

going to the mall and buying cigarettes and smoking, blissfully happy.

talking on the phone endlessly, while she told me stories about guys that made me equally excited for/worried about her.

she had a pair of tights she wore almost everyday until they were covered in holes. the guy she carpooled with asked if he could just rip them open, and she let him. she loved that story.

her constantly telling me if she was a guy, she would be in love with me. for an incredibly insecure teenager, this was a huge self esteem boost (and a turn on)

for one out of uniform day, she wore a white sundress with a seashell necklace, and looked so beautiful.

stories about her dad.

her amazing sense of humor/style/love/creativity

our laughter and fucking JOY at high school graduation. we both hated pius and knew we would be moving on to better things.

i am fucking sick to my stomach right now. i regret so deeply that i take the opportunity to be in her life more after we left high school.
i desperately wish i could turn back time and see you again.

in high school for those stupid superlatives, desha and i and one other person that i cant think of, were nominated for "most unique". she won, and i remember feeling a-ok about that. she most certainly deserved it. desha was not of this world, at all.

i dont fucking know what to think. . . . i cant stop thinking. i keep thinking about benito and how he must be feeling. its not fucking fair. . .
i looked at her myspace and saw she signed in on friday. she died friday night. i feel so fucking sick.
what the hell happened? how can we fix this?

i dont even want to get into the other issues, like where the fuck is she now?
i cant deal with this.

all day i've been listening to the theme from "a tale of two sisters", because its beautiful and touching and tragic. it was lending some depth to my day. . . it just seems fitting for this fucked up evening.

now grief has a name. . .

my fellow high school rebel partner in crime much loved beautiful beachy alien from another planet

someone i loved dearly. she died in a car accident last night. i made the mistake of googling her name and found pictures of the horrific accident that claimed her.

i feel lost, shocked, and devastated. we had kept in touch very sporadically over the years, probably communicated last about a year or 6 months ago.

dug through my pics, found her incredibly hot senior pic-
on the back she wrote:

to my punk princess
i love you so much and you better remember me in 20 years so don't ever throw this picture away!
i love you

my heart is broken. . . i can't even imagine what it's like for her boyfriend, or her best friends, or her mother and sister.
the world is even more fucked up today.
i'm fucking reeling.