Freud's killing me

Living consists of peanut butter (erdnuss creme) and chai soy milk lattes.
making my costume tomorrowwww

My life be like

Oooh Ahhh

Less than a week until:




Yessss so excited with plansies
Also can't WAIT to feel that plane take off from underneath me
Having a home is nice; homeless is better. Traveling is tangible, uncomfortable, unpredictable!!!



Ever do something a few times, and later realize that you could have easily failed without realizing it?
- like running across a bridge back and forth, doing errands, and suddenly looking down to realize a huge chasm awaits your ever move?
Yeah.
I thank my lucky stars that i forgot to look down.

peanut shells

peanut shells in a mug, red fixie on the dresser, oils paints curled in a cermaic bowl, an open computer terminal thing, a saw hanging on the wall. I'm using my roommates computer, he's this really good artist, ooh I love his room. He's crazy I like him! God I was sitting on the S Bahn, looping around my gorgeous ugly city, drinking in the sherbert sunset oozing over the dense gray clouds, just admiring everything.


Berlin is ugly, careless, poor, listles, edgy, brooding, punk, torpid, and fucking amazing.
I love pretty ugly things, for example I've been contemplating a nose piercing, not because it's pretty, because it's not at all. And I like that about it. It reminds me a little of a cow, something kind of meaty and repulsive, a little slovenly and provocative, and the whole concept of it, like a diamond booger?
I am intrigued.


Berlin doesn't try to be more than it is; no one here would describe it as romantic, fabulous, magical, dashing. But there is this type of magic that is twisted from the graffiti, the angry artists, the happy artists, the chic hairstyles and the organic boutiques. Berlin thrives, and everyone in the vicinity responds. You don't have a choice. It resounds with the life that youth brings, a rough sex kind of magic.





I saw a little Snow White board the Sbahn the other day. She was perhaps four years old, adorned in the classic yellow puffed sleaves of Disney's esteemed princess. Her nanny and older brother trumped in after her, looking a little less fabulous. She tried her best to keep her little buoyant skirt from floating up; a real lady. Best of all, they were all british. The boy asked his nanny about his costume. He was considering switching from some unknown to a doctor.
Adorable.

Leaden

heaven






I kissed a Scorpio last night.
He introduced me to a new technique where his tongue flicks at my teeth.
I may have breathily laughed into his mouth...

Sometimes these days

Are the best days

Sometimes these days

Are the best days

Spent a spontaneous night 'making party' at the lubeck apartment.



Ireland for Halloween? Booked.
My heart chitters away as if reunited with An Old Friend;
I suppose it has, in context.
The infrequent visitor Adrenaline.
Every time a new ticket is secured
The miracle of flight, speed, movement, taken
For granted by this generation,
Not taken but Consumed!
It gets me all twitterpated.
A new life, a new horizon, a new seductive culture
New boys, new girls, new taboos, new booze, new tattoos
New muse to ring, new blues to sing
A single place to choose.



And the process is just weird, I almost got up to check what name lies on my passport but I think I got it right.
And then it asked about my place of residence, I didn't mention my current home, but the home of my cousins, the place I last registered, thank god I remember it.
As for my billing address? That's still somewhere in Oregon. But is it the house we just sold, (did my parents tell my bank that that's the false address?) or is it my cute downtown apartment that hopefully no one sends mail to because my mom can't find the mail key for it?
Finally, everything has been recorded.
But it tells me to print all of the information before boarding the plane, lest i be turned away.
I don't have a proper computer, let alone printer.
Ahh well the luck of the Irish will keep me afloat, I'm sure.

Thrift store men's shoes, 5 euro.
Super glue from Kardstadt, 3 something euro.
New fabulous kicks: all mine





I'm incredibly fucking tactile.
And I love the well loved, smoothed and softened by my eager hand oils, the felt marker marked and heavily creased (like crows feet, like smile wrinkles, like old person stories) subway map I keep tucked away in my canvas bag.
I also prefer the feel of books to the whitey haze of Online.
I love the cool complacent texture of marble.
And the audacity of fur. Possessed by animal or rug or whatnot.
I love a good earlobe, a pleasant dollop of flesh.
Sometimes I feel like my years have been stripped away from me, as moments strike me with little fistfuls of bottomless awe.

Doll parts

I am staring at a box of doll parts.
I have returned to haunt my German mansion in the north, apparently to be joined in my room with a creepy wooden box brimming with the standard (blonde haired blue eyed) vintage plastic body parts.
Although, in this light, it's almost not creepy. In fact it feels nostalgic.

I tried to find a google image of 'doll parts' for accompaniment, but everything just looked terrifying and that's not what im feeling right now.
So instead I gift you with this not-terrifying link.


This house is gorgeous, all rugged and full of wooden beams.
I'm sitting in a room with slanted ceilings, a modest chandelier and a white four poster bed.
It's nice I like my family. This feels like home, which is good because I've been hit the second wave of homesickness.
I miss the incredibly little things that I've grown to adore - like the smooth bulb of my stick shift in my little teeny volkswagon.


But you know what I love here? Bars with friends, train rides and school and gluten free bread, the chaotic feel of hostels and sleeping in past the normal hours of the farmers market. I like dancing to our little iPod playlists at 4 am because the clubs are closed and we aren't finished yet. I like being offered wine from people I meet and lying to bar creatures lurking around my stool, making friends with the Danish cashier at a well to do secondhand store, or racing the stars as I struggle to make the next ubahn home, cheeks pink and gray sidewalk rising to meet me. I like getting a kiss on the cheek from scruffy young Germans and debating politics with desperate canadians.

It's a nice life here, I suppose I'm a bit lucky.

I miss it too, H!!





Current fears:
Running out of my favorite deodorant. I love secret's vanilla chai stick. Germans love the spray one variety. I am not a fan, and like an idiot I only packed one.
Getting hurt by an unpracticed chiropractor. a friend warned me of this once, and I've been terrified ever since. But my back hurts. So.

Current pleasures:
Now that I finally have my own room...
I can buy fingernail polish. It would have been absurd to buy and waste/ tote mini glass jars of toxic colored liquids forbpurposes of wallowing in my own shallow conmericialized femininity. But now I can :)
Hangin out naked. specifically, all-over lotion sessions. But also hanging out.

Current cravings:
Mexican food. Mexican food!
Sunlight. Although I suppose the fall here isn't so bad when I take a breather from complaining about it. I saw someone raking leaves today and practically skipped away in excitement. Always reminds me of new pencils and fresh apples.

Danke kuchen

I clutched the round capsule to me, struggling down the long dark avenue, exhilarated by the night and brief sweet vacuum of sugary chocolate gluten free vegan raspberry that puffed out when I creaked open the lid moments before, and the cold singing stars smelled of success, wafting me down the concrete like a German waife, and my leather boots ushered me past the cringing boutiques, I was their queen, a cake messenger, delighting in the autumn that I had learned to hate.

'my record'

'my record, is you know, six and a half days - no sleep, yeah, just chocolate,'
I laugh appreciatively
'hahah yeah, you know, I was young, and I was painting and painting, and like, I was so exhausted, I put it in a frame, and I hang it on the wall, in front of my sofa, and then I sort of, I stumble back to sit down, and just, yeah...'
He mimics falling asleep on his sofa, which I imagine as deep purple and thinned from overuse
'and when I wake up, I just go yeah, that, that's beautiful.'


Interesting soul, my roommate.
Last night:
'you, yeah, I think you are a good person.'

Pant pant pant

Happy early Halloween/birthday to me
;)









I moved into my flat!!! Big bed, high ceilings, ancient matches, NYC paintings, apples and peanutbutter, and a biostore literally next door.
Positively elated, more details later.
Eeeeeeeee