its a personal equinox, the changing of lifestyles, a shift in pace, a dramatic expose bringing every current memory to a halt.
im being kicked out of my childhood home, and for what? mulitple mistakes, 17 long years of "sorry" and promises, an ending that would be appropriate in a soap opera.
i have two days to pack and say goodbye, all supervised visits, with little slack in lack of trust.
i am 17 fucking years old, and yet every move i make is under suspicion with the reasoning of "my safety" and worries that travel farther than a black hole would follow. essentially, my freedom rights were wisked away for the 48 hours i have left in this state.

so now tucson, arizona lies ahead of me. morgages, dust devils and air conditioning is what i have to look forward to. not only am i moving a month earlier, but it is hardly possible for me to attend rock the bells and/or my anticipated devirginization of burning man. the two events i have been ridiculously excited for since january, my only graduation presents to myself.

while my peers tearfully pack up their lifes for college, or even to study abroad in another country, they are terrified... and i laugh bitterly at them. my excursion to tucson will be vague and disorganized. oh, what i would give for a structured four years of excitement paid for by my proud parents. tiny dorm rooms, keg stands, student loans and sloppy frat party hookups is what i dream of. yes, i cant stand the whole continued education idea, based on test scores and how much skrilla you can bring to the plate, or what grandpa of yours was a member of a secret society back in his college years. but that security? the comfort of knowing the time and place of your life is calling out to me.

one year ago i was planning on moving to austin, tx exactly at this time to be with my long distance boyfriend.
who knows what ill think in six months? who knows where ill be?
exchanging my body for substance abuse, like my parents keep insinuating will happen?
on track for an ivy leage education at harvard studying law?
at pima community college counting my petty credits, making up for lost years?
married and pregnant with a marines child?

who the fuck knows, cause i sure as hell do not.

my mother hates me at this point, i am a betrayal, one huge dissapointment that she will never get over, she cant even look me in the face without shaking in fury.
my dad is only trying to make things right as best he can, and i am still fucking that up.


i have zero moral support, this house is a jailcell and i am its only prisoner. friends seem lightyears away from possibility. eva is away with her love, oblivious to my crisis. ive taken to reading nonstop. memior after memior, white oleander for the billionth time, even a how-to-diy book for when im desperate. my writing has dwindled down to a long list of (stupid) regrets and complaints. the magic had dried up from within me.

so im sitting in this flat decorated with warhol, smoking a cigarette looking out the window unto the rainy street, waiting for my german boyfriend to pick me up after his drum lesson. i feel very european, very comfortable in this country, even without speaking a word of the language besides cuss words and ´thank you´ (danke). i said goodbye to my parents today, theyve rented a little car and will do the whole family euro-trip. ive opted to stay here another week and go to milan with my best friend, a chain smoker, a european chick herself. i have a little over 400 euros in my pocket and i realized just now i need to buy more cigarettes. (they have lucky strikes here!)

this is my life for right now... and im completely okay with that.

going back home will be a bigger reality check than being here... seeing my ´friends´, doing ´fun shit´ like getting high and not speaking to the people im with until more pot is found. after i get back to california, its concerts and festivals until the end of august... then moving out time. i going to tucson arizona where i will work for my brother as a morgage bitch, filing and taking calls and running credit. ill live in my own house with cheap rent, probably get a cat, try to meet some new people. find a boy who can drive me around till november 7th, whos satisfaction i will provide in return. we will be together and i will annoy him and he will piss me off and we will drink and fuck and ill drag him to raves, try to score pills and acid. its a beautiful life, im a fucking spoiled bitch, i know.

who else can travel the world free of charge until she turns 18? who else has connections around the planet yet can only speak the universal language of english? who else refuses to travel with her family because they drive her up the wall and she rather party? who else can have all these oppertunities and experiances before they reach a legal age? its a bit ridiculous, i must say. but like i said, im okay with it.

i take naps here everyday, wake up, smoke, sit online until constantin or one of his friends gets off school and can come entertain me. we go out, drink cheap whiskey, go out to clubs, etc. i usually party foul one way or the other, hopping a 10 foot fence required a bandage for my bloody shredded up palm, rolled my ankle once or twice, made a terrible late night stop at burger king one night. you get the picture.

burning man is one month away and i dont have any kind of outfit yet, which is completely okay with me, i think im just gonna plan on being nude the entire 5 days. (planning on getting a brazillian also... maybe with an arrow or lightning bolt just for shits and giggles)

my nipples are bloody and sore... NOT from getting them peirced like planned. this german dude is a bit of a kinky motherfucker, and that is COMPLETELY OKAY WITH ME. ive never been more happy with a dude in my life, to be honest. we try to have conversations, and it kinda works... but its much less akward to just make out so we do that 80% of the time when were together, no joke. we hold hands in public (a pretty new thing for me, i usually date assholes who want our relationship to be private), he buys me coffee and i try to not smoke around him, he hates cigarettes. he plays drums and loves heavy metal, shit i listened to when i was 14, he has a lip and a neck peircing, and hes taking me to get my tattoo done on wednesday. if he tells me he loves me i will scream and then vomit, i couldnt handle that.

its funny how every summer (well this is the second summer in a row) i find the NICEST CUTEST dude who TREATS ME RIGHT, but i only find these homies on vacation. then i leave and well... thats that. sam was last year, i think he will forever stay in my heart even after all the drama, all the pain he put me through from such a long distance. this new guy, jonas, i realize i will probably never see him again after i leave in two weeks, even though he would never hurt me in a million years. sams still the one i would choose.

which is stupid on my part, but then again i am a masocist, love the pain, love being the victim, etc. nice guys finish last in my book.


so now, i have one more hour to wait before jonas gets me, ill probably smoke my last cigarette, maybe make up my face to look not so sleepy, and perhaps even eat. wow.


also: i miss julian like ive never missed him before.

i was onced asked me what my state of mind would be if i was stuck in a completely empty white room with no windows or doors. i told her i would be positively freaked out, i would be panicked and unable to calm down.
she told me i was terrified of death.
i dont deny it.
yesterday i was frantically finishing my independent study i had to make up to be able to graduate, and i stumbled upon a story written in the early 30s by a dutch immigrant women. an old women was on her deathbed, surrounded by her surviving family and friends. she suddenly realized in her hazy sleep that these were her final physical moments. panicking, she tried to say everything she could to the one she loved before she passed on. and in that moment of confusion and anxiety, she reached a moment of conclusion and blew out her own candle.
she accepted her death.

the other day, i had a dream i was with my exboyfriend.
he was as unreliable as hed always been, drunk, and obnoxious. we were in a car and i had no say where we were going. suddenly, by chance we came across a large crowd with a ambulance in the chaos.
my father was on the ground dying, and i had a total of 30 seconds to tell him everything i could before he left this world. my head spun in my rem cycle, and i was not in control once again.



the moon is in scorpio.


i expect nothing from others anymore.
ive decided relying on people only makes you a weaker person, especially when you already have attachment issues.
my affection and care for someone only grows when i spend the time, the energy to nurture and mold that relationship.
anything else would just be wasting my time on lost hope.


i believe i deserve more than an topless box to hold my passions and feelings in.


im not going to put myself in this position again.

so i have some issues.
first of all... the word struggle. noun or verb? someone break out a thesaurus, because this word is getting a little stale in my life, and i need a change.
i do believe im the only high school student currently enrolled at analy high with a tribe profile, but if anyones aware, the word 'struggle' has been a permanent fixture of status at this lovely public place of education, breaking off into adverbs, adjectives, even a proper noun if you wanted it that bad.
needless to say, 'struggle' is becoming older than father time, and i need a new word.
issue, conflict, problems, labor, battle, strive, toil, contend.
take your pick....


in other words [worlds],
my lack of a physical/emotional/intellectual relationship with another human being is taking a toll on my life.
awhile ago, i stated with great zeal, "im NEVER going to settle for anything less than perfection!"
hah, THAT is a joke, a little more rediculous than most.
ive been on the search, 'on the prowl' if you will, for a human being with enough substance to satisfy all three aspects of my life. physically, emotionally, and intellectually.
but recently... ive been considering lowering my standards so i can sufficiantly complete one of my goals ive been... 'having issues with' since october.
goddammit i want to get laid!
honestly, i am a sexual being. all [most] humans are. ignoring that fact only prevails the issue. 'a slippery slope', one might say.

so i write about longing and lonliness instead of having sex with attractive people.
i go have coffee and cigarettes by myself instead of having a conversation with someone i care about.
and i smoke weed so i can ignore the great ignorance of the people i share a town/high school with instead of seeking information from others.

ironic? paradoxical?
you decide.


in the meantime...
im still looking for the perfect person. a connection so strong we lose the entire world because the only exsistance is ours.
its rare, but possible.



so while i search, life shall be lived. i wont ignore the obvious signs of growth or change, but i wont stop time to adjust for either.
i guess 'struggle' is the best word choice for situations like these... whats holding on to that struggle?
hope.



i have hope.