Jill and James Change in a Train Station

...i am your girl, and i will protect you.

sean and me looking gross as taken by jamie stewart from xiu xiu!


ilikemyneighborhood.
ilikemygun.

"My Life is Becoming More Ridiculous Every Day"

6:44 pm

unrelated things.

...or are they?

TheMinimal - 5mph Sign

I am reminding myself of things. Can you imagine?
It's quite unlike "It" or "That" reminding me of things.
Also more difficult to express to you who may also
have been reminded by "It" or "That" but never by "I"
in the way that I am reminded by "I".

Once I reminded myself of an aged sea turtle.

For instance, the way I am standing in the kitchen
suddenly reminds me of a Greek woman I met in
Paris, plus Greek people, and cats, and the French
Canadian old man who showed me to a campsite on
the coast on Maine with a flashlight in the dark
demonstrating how cats whine and scream at night,
and the cat that startled me last night at reading,
screaming so terribly that I was afraid it was being
killed.
I was told later that the neighbor underneath had
asked for a box to put the cat in and put it on the
steps under my room-window.

I found this "I" reminding almost as unbelievable
as "It" or "That" reminding oneself of "I".
How often?

Not uncommon for "It" or "That" to remind oneself
of "It" or "That", but how often is it that you think
to yourself, "He/She/It/That reminds me of myself!"

How often does someone say to you, tell you,
"I think we're alike." or "Don't you think we're a lot alike?"

Maybe it has happened often?

Has it happened often that you'd been thinking
the same thing for some time?

What happened when the thought had never
entered your head? I bet that did amaze you.
What happened when, for some time, you'd
had the opposite thought?

That happened to me: a full-fledged question.
Like a grey bird's wing with its infinite permutations
of grey underfolding. Hard to answer such a question.

I remember both times. In the past year
she has asked me twice
"We're alike, don't you think?"
a little differently.
I don't think I remember myself then -
what I said, what I did. I ask myself
whether I just stared at her,
or whether my mother felt loved.


I think i am beginning to answer that question now.

-Ann

karma.

i fixed my karma, and i went industrial clubbing tonight.
i just got back.

and for once,
i don't give a fuck about whatever sean was doing tonight,
who he was with,
or how great it was.

because my life is fucking incredible.

they wouldn't let me take my camera into the club.
so i only have this picture i took right now:


anyway, it was unbelievable.
there were tiny pixie girls in tiny chain covered skirts,
and real raver boys,
and vampiric drag queens, bleeding from every orifice.
there were beautiful gay boys, dancing on platforms all around the club,
prostituting their skinny shirtless torsos for the entire crowd to see.
i got offered more drugs than i ever have in my whole life,
xtc and shrooms and lsd.
it was like a skins party,
and every one dressed like effy.
combat boots, and short skirts, and fishnets.
and REAL ravers.
girls on platforms, glowstringing better than me!
it was...my dreams...

and they loved me!
even though it wasn't my scene,
they still accepted me,
the spoke to me,
they danced with me.

there were these two girls,
one was black, wearing a torn white wedding gown,
and her girlfriend was white, wearing a torn black gown.
everything was deconstructed and torn.

and the music!

the second i got on the dancefloor, the darkwave techno remix
of "mad world" came on, and the entire dancefloor erupted in cheers.
everyone screamed the words together in unison,
everyone,
male, female, straight, gay, goth, punk, sweet lolita:

"and i find it kind of funny,
i find it kind of sad,
the dreams in which i'm dying
are the best i've ever had"

jamie stewart was right.

i will quote him now, because he has already said everything i felt tonight better than i could ever try to say:

"regardless of the fact that i was wearing eternal tour fatigues of just jeans and a black inside out this song is a mess t shirt and most everyone else was in full bat wing, bloody clown wig, sex fascist, electrical tape gear, i still felt some how a part of things.
in that clearly everyone there did not like who they are and were trying so hard to be someone else.
and doing this, by again, dancing that feeling away. physically and emotionally pushing against everything in a painful, ecstatic almost deaf swivel."

it's very strange, because i have never felt less alone.
everything suddenly felt...worth it.

they played psyclon nine, and aesthetic perfection
and everyone cheered.
i could've cried.
and beautiful girls looked at me
like they never have before.
like i was maybe...
a desirable creature?

because everyone there was
so beautifully despicable,
that it was desirable
to be anything.

i was so sad though,
fittingly, seeing as it was a goth club,
because the night would have been perfect...
but it wasn't complete...

...i wish you'd been there with me, sean michael,
because i had no one to share it with at all.

you have to go with me. have to. have to. have to.
we will rave to psyclon nine,
surrounded by girls and boys
dressed like gothic prostitutes.

and nothing else will matter.

nothing.

ps. you have to come to dc with me!
or i will cry.
my epic adventures aren't epic without you.
i wish that wasn't true, but it is.

i missed having you as my
partner in crime tonight.

No Escape

Tonight Lacey, Evan, and I went to the Warehouse.
The full moon lit our long trek through the forest.


The place itself was a maze of tiny rooms, each covered in over 50 years of graffiti.

Sit Here


No Escape
Make War,
Not Love



Die Alone




Death Toll: 14

Then, in order to continue our journey, we had to climb a ladder to the roof of the warehouse. This was difficult for me, seeing as I have nightmares about ladders. I don't trust them. I don't like them!

There was no light, so I had to grip the flashlight in my teeth in order to see.

Government Ties Government Lies


The Rape Table



Fear is an Illusion

Then Evan left, so Lacey and I ran deeper into the woods to frolic.

I think I'm over my fear of ladders.

Memoirs of a Past Life

Several miles outside of Juneau, Alaska.

1981

I left the house to get some air on the screened in porch. The season had just changed; the cool spring air had begun to give in to summer, but the year was still too early for the night insects that came up from the lake. The wind kept the chill in the air, but it made for a clear night. The stars spilled onto the lavender sky, while pine shadows loomed on the horizon. The screen door creaked behind me, and someone stepped onto the porch. I didn’t turn around, but I could tell by Elle’s silence that it was her.
“So you leave tomorrow?” I asked quietly.
“The train is coming at 7. I’ll arrive in Portland by tomorrow night,” she answered.
“And will Samuel pick you up at the station?”
“Yes, I’ll stay at his house until I board the train to Los Angeles on Monday.”
“Well, everything seems to be in order then.”
“Yes.”
“Is there anything else?”
“No.”
I half expected to hear her reenter the house, but I knew she wouldn’t. The only sound I heard was the silence of her stare at my coldly turned back. I wanted to turn around to meet her gaze, but like always, I could not. I could not look at her. I could not. If I could have just turned to see her dark hair blow carelessly across her face, her eyes searching for me to show I cared, I know we could have spend the last night we had together.
We stayed silent on the porch for several minutes. Finally, I heard the screen door moan and clatter shut. I was alone again, and she would leave in the morning.

The World is Our _____

I've been carrying around the same five photos with me everywhere I go for the past month. Old photographs help remind me of the life I lost.

1952

1991

1991

1995

1998

jamie stewart took our picture twice.

"23. What sort of things would I find on your bed right now?

-if you looked on my bed, you would find the typical things...
pillows. blankets. a boy."