being a mother.

little olive
swallowed a long piece of floss,
please olive, let it come out in your poop

movie title

WTF do i want

paperclips

from as far back as i can remember it was either me yelling at my mom, my mom yelling at my dad, my dad yelling at my mom, my mom yelling at me or my dad yelling at me. they remember everything differently, which Im sure can make them feel better about themselves.
there was so much hatred and anger permeating the walls of my home, the smell was thick with resentment , regret and most importantly failure.
i can remember the first time i yelled, it felt amazing like becoming a brand new person. i started to realize my parents were acting like kids, but i was the kid, and that wasnt fair, so i started to yell. Yelling felt like knocking things down, like burning their wedding pictures (that came later)
i wanted them to remember that i was still there. and i hated it, i hated life around me. i hated the boys that pushed me up against the wall and stole my money, i hated my fat body, i hated my stupid fucking teachers, i hated the pretty girls, but more than anything else, i hated my parents.

when i was 12 i put my key through the door and found my father raging at my mother. it was so loud, and my mom was screaming over him. i put myself in the middle of them. my mom picked up my father typewriter and held it out the window " I WILL THROW THIS FUCKING THING OUT MICHAEL. IM SO SICK OF THIS, DONT YOU DARE TREAT ME THIS WAY"
in reponse my father pushed over our living room table and every thing smashed and crashed on the floor. my whole body was shaking, and i picked up all the paperclips and put them back in the jar.

south of france

so the stock market is crashing and i think its time to create a bunker. i need one with a garden for food and a camera and computer for making films. i always think of the south of france. it is surprisingly cheap in areas, and i think life would be nice there. i have to learn french asap and get a place asap, because it all might come sooner than i think.

I am a jew!

when you are paid to blog at work it makes blogging not as much fun.
this is a post to say i feel completely lost without my therapist. its like my therapist is my old cigarettes and i start to fall apart nicfitting all over the place. So here i am an artist trying to live and work in new york, fighting with myself, my parents, looking for a tiny apartment, COMPLAINING and needing my therapist to survive. such a typical jewyorker.

more light

hey "everyone" a little bit more cheer.
i have a job la la la la. i have a boyfriend who i love --pretty cool right? I live in New York which I both despise and love. But if you havent noticed yet the world is full of total garbage (theres that darkness again) and the whole thing is going to quake and flood and id rather die standing here, amidst all the gentifiers, haters, players, hustlers, models, rich folk, homeless, bourgeois, eurotrash, latinos, hipsters, business dudes, kids, dogs, doctors, lawyers, uptown, downtown, west side til i die motherfuckers. id rather be here, and let us all go down in flames together.

the end.

i am a monster

i always made mistakes and all my friends secretly hate me.
what is the point of friends again.