| Thursday, April 13th, 2006 |
| 3:12 pm |
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| Monday, March 27th, 2006 |
| 3:26 pm |
unfinished
we both rested our heads on a big sofa cushion on his living room floor. i was wearing that navy blue dress with white flowers on it i bought at a flea market in some rural town outside of harrisburg, pennsylvania. he didn't like it much on me back then. he said it looked like something his grandma mildred would have worn. I remembered the tiff we had gotten into after I made the purchase, "Why do you always have to dress like a such a granny?" he asked, exhaling the smoke from his freshly rolled cigarette. "Because i can get away with it. what you won't be able to get away with is that lung cancer you're going to get if you keep smoking!" we both laughed and he pushed my head, "shut up. i will not. i'm awesome!" "Oh so being awesome exempts you from getting cancer?" "Yeah pretty much," he said, taking a huge puff and blowing it out into the overcast, november air. "You're a big fucking idiot, do you know that? I really hate you sometimes" But that wasn't true at all. Or maybe it was. I think all my pseudo-hate for him came from the fact that I couldn't live without his stupidity. ...But today he didn't have to say anything. i knew he liked it on me by the way he'd look at my legs. maybe it was the way it hiked up just below my hips (my carelessness preventing me from pulling it down) or maybe it was the fact that all but two buttons were undone. i didn't know if he remembered this was that dress. I didn't expect him to remember much from back then. |
| Monday, February 20th, 2006 |
| 8:30 pm |
awkward time passed.
i.  i left the MET around 4 p.m. and walked around central park. i watched the little children tumbling down the hills and it was then i wished i wasn't alone. |
| Wednesday, February 8th, 2006 |
| 12:29 pm |
 Please, remember me
Mistakenly
In the window of the tallest tower. |
| Monday, February 6th, 2006 |
| 4:06 pm |
a series of manhattan dreams
i was on a bus with my mom. we saw the world trade centers. they were just as tall but were all rusted and/or maybe made out of wood. in my mind i knew they weren't supposed to be there anymore. i asked my mom if you could still touch them even though they don't exist anymore. she told me that she didn't know but remembered a friend told her there was an explanation why we could still see them. she never told me though. **** i met a cartoonist. he was cute but only cause he grew on me. he took me to his work on the lower east side and introduced me to his coworkers. he held my hand and i was surprised by this gesture. he introduced me to some guy in his department and told me that he didn't like him, but that he would only put up with him cause i was there. **** i was on the "U" train (which doesn't exist). an ex-lover and his girlfriend hopped on at the next stop. he was surprised to see me but waved anyway. they sat across and started making out. i choked up and went to the other car, but kept spying on them. now they looked like they were going to fuck, but they didn't. no one took notice except for me. i got off and they waved goodbye. i smiled and gave them the finger. it was then that i noticed i left my coat on the subway which had my keys, ipod and cell phone in the pockets. i watched as the train disappeard. i braved the cold. |
| Friday, February 3rd, 2006 |
| 1:35 am |
we clung on like barnacles on a boat. even though the ship sinks, you know you can't let go. |
| Saturday, January 28th, 2006 |
| 11:35 am |
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| Sunday, January 15th, 2006 |
| 12:07 am |
red and a black faded logo
i keep an old tee-shirt of yours in a drawer under socks and tights. it still smells of wood chips and reminds me of the day you took me down to the pond to watch the ducks swim in families. when i hold it, i wait for it to dissolve in my hand, because in my mind it only feels like a memory i should have of you wearing it. Current Music: page france-chariot |
| Tuesday, January 10th, 2006 |
| 1:13 am |
i'm still that lost little girl.
excerpt from february 15, 2002I will take my emotional pain and frustration out on people who mean the most to me because I sabotage anything and everything. because this is how I think I'm suppose to feel. the knots that build up in the pit of my stomach. the flushed cheeks. the glassy eyes. the broken heart. the everything that I can't fucking understand for the life of me. this petty seventeen year-old bullshit. everything I've worked my ass off up until now to overcompensate the difference between me and the person next to me. nothing will pay off. my future is down the tubes...just like it's suppose to be. he hates me now. I've hurt him. jealousy has over taken my senses. JEALOUSY. fucking jealousy. so tomorrow I'm off to the hospital for 48 hours to monitor my fucking broken heart. my fucking broken state of happiness. my fucking broken everything. I don't know Lara anymore. i was am so melodramatic. funny how little things change. (note: why do i always seem to be in a constant state of a "broken heart"? i really think i make these things up in me head. my perception of the world around me, is in fact, not how it is AT ALL.) |
| Thursday, January 5th, 2006 |
| 11:31 pm |
a series of sexual modesty
i. the cumming wars she straddled the window sill and let the cold air run up her leg and in between the places where he put himself that tuesday night. "i'm waiting for your demise," she whispered, quivering and gasping for breath. he looked at her as she felt him sink away. (a sudden lapse in judgement.) there was a pause. it was war. ii. solar system masturbation i was floating through space. it wasn't that big of a place: four star-spotted walls i could reach out and touch. there was a ceiling where two projector screens rested side by side. i pulled both of them down at the same time. both images were of me with my hand between my legs. i was biting on a purple pillow. "thank god there's no one in space," i thought. iii. coffee table fantasy we sat around a coffee table the day before christmas. i took a sip of coffee when... "he fisted me in the ass," came out of her mouth. i choked. "are you fucking kidding me?! i could never ..." the man at the next table moved in closer. i took notice. he was a man of 25, maybe 26, glasses and a solid chin. would i let him do that me? he looked over, and our eyes met. an unpretentious grin formed at the corners of his lips. definitely. iv. the laughter of two bodies she could but barely wrap her hand around it. he looked at her as she bit her bottom lip. "what?" oh no, here it comes. the burst of laughter. "no nothing, nothing. you're um...nothing." "no, WHAT!" "you've got, ya know, a large penis." "fine, do you just wanna watch cartoons?" |
| Monday, December 19th, 2005 |
| 11:30 pm |
the mind of winter.
don't know how i walk through these streets, cold cutting at my fingertips. bloody nose, bloody heart. slow motion auto-pilot the air is thinning in my lungs and out it goes, up in the air over manhattan, over outter bridges and great lakes. i'm not ready, i'm not ready. |
| Monday, December 12th, 2005 |
| 9:57 pm |
this is a very odd form of attraction indeed. |
| Tuesday, December 6th, 2005 |
| 6:17 pm |
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| Sunday, December 4th, 2005 |
| 10:25 am |
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| Monday, August 22nd, 2005 |
| 12:39 am |
everyone i know is going going to die one day. |
| Saturday, July 23rd, 2005 |
| 10:00 pm |
impending doom
why do overly sentimental mothers keep pictures of you and ex-boyfriend(s) laying around on dining room tables? we may never know. |
| Tuesday, July 12th, 2005 |
| 10:32 pm |
i'm in this weird transition between being comfortable on my own and then just wanting to just curl up in my own bed with my cats. i don't feel as though i've been taking care of my body as of late: drinking beer, smoking cigarettes and eating poorly. i think it's also taking a toll on my emotions. i'm used to the noises of the city and the cost of things, but i feel as though my uneasiness is coming from somewhere internal. half the time i just don't know what to do with myself but then the other half is spent being productive and being with good friends. i don't know. also, i've been having really sad dreams again. it's unnerving and probably stems from the fact that i haven't been getting a lot of romantic affection lately. it blows, but what are you going to do? i know i've complained about my life this past year or so, but i feel as though maybe i can't complain as much. i mean, slowly but surely things are coming together. the operative word being slowly. |
| Sunday, July 10th, 2005 |
| 7:21 pm |
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| Thursday, June 23rd, 2005 |
| 2:20 am |
 complete and total indifference |
| Tuesday, June 14th, 2005 |
| 1:38 pm |
secret code
re·lapse ( P ) Pronunciation Key (r-lps) intr.v. re·lapsed, re·laps·ing, re·laps·es 1.To fall or slide back into a former state. 2.To regress after partial recovery from illness. 3.To slip back into bad ways; backslide. |
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la_bicyclette's journal
