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hair of flowers,
by yawn of birds
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hair of flowers,
by yawn of birds

previous entry: gone!

next entry: C'mon

cold

08/01/2009

i don't know how to be home.

i got off the plane and it was like there was no one there, they had forgotten when i was coming home, iinstead they sent mother-father-brother clones. replicas. moving statues.

and instead of going home, i went to the wrong place, and got drunk for three days straight, and fucked my brother's best friend in his teepee, and drunkenly texted the worst person i could text, and told him i am so sorry, and sometimes i live in that,

and when i finally came home, no one was there. they were out of town, on vacation, family of four. they say, we'll be back in a few days, sorry we forgot about the date.

so now i am drinking bacardi that cost me 8 soles (not even $3) that i brought home all snuggled in my suitcase and wishing i had someone that loved me to just sit with me, and i could tell that my trip was good, it was wonderful, i thought i was all happy and healed coming home. guess not.

previous entry: gone!

next entry: C'mon

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I hate when high hopes get dashed.
Hang in there.
And next time you're in Corvallis, instead of teepee sex, maybe you can set a house on fire for me?


[Kelly|0 likes] [|reply]

How absolutely sweet of you to say.
I always love reading your entries, so it's right back atchya.

[Kelly|0 likes] [|reply]

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