SOLID.

Okay well Bathwater didn't post another Truth exercise so I'm off the hook.

I talk to P for like 4 hours a day. We're just laughing about how we're shut up in our rooms for months and people think we're flaky and out spending time with other people and neglecting them and get hurt and just don't understand, don't get it, the staying in and writing artist shit. "Friday night, in the crib..." he said. Yup.

I'm really just blown away by C and I sent P (too lazy to come up with names right now hahaha) just this electronic arrangement and me just laying down the piano and vocals for reference recording we just did, and he's freaking out over it, and I sent it to one other person and he FREAKED over it, and I'm freaking over it, and C's freaking over it, and finally in my life I'm just like, Okay, okay, okay this is good... this is really good... I don't know what's gonna come of it, but it's kind of really exciting...

And the show with P is gonna be fucking GOOD... and that's kind of REALLY exciting... and I'm realizing... I have NOT been doing nothing. Holed up in here? Yes. Losing touch with some friends? Unfortunately yes. Fantasizing about J and having no personal life besides? Yup. But I just... just realize... this is some... real shit... for lack of a better expression. And I did not waste a year. NOTHING was a waste. I'm talking about with P, he's a writer (and director and producer and business genius and yeah, workaholic, artist) and he tells me he does the same thing, and I NO LONGER feel bad about it, or like a waste, it's who I am, I'm an artist, I create, and this is the process, for me.

And it might at the expense of a lot of other things. But. What are ya gonna do?

And we talked about also, real friendship. And it's people that get you. That get THAT. Aren't offended by it. Listen. Cut to the chase. And don't judge. Don't judge. Never, ever judge.

Too Much Fun

Being that it's only my second day off TMF, I decided to go for a run. It's 3 30 now, and it was like midnight, and I was uncharacteristically sleepy and debating, nice to go to bed at a reasonable hour but during the weeks of TMF I didn't go running at all (though i did manage to go to a shit ton of really intense dance classes and work, at the beginning) and I had a feeling once I fell asleep the Kicks would come courtesy of the Cold Bird. The DTs make your legs jerk around cuz they haven't been moving and there's no more TMF calming their nerves so even if you're so tired in your head you can hardly keep em open your legs and arms will thrash around in revolt and you'll be left, sleepless, sweaty, and and angry.

Plus I wanna keep the youthful bloom in me as long as possible and this city has definitely made its attempts to take it away from me, and this city has definitely made me feel that at 4.5 and 20, being closer to 30 than 18, I am definitely in danger of losing the aforementioned bloom any morning.

I've had dreams where I wake up with hideous lines and marks on my face, and then I wake up, and they're really there, and then I wake up again.

But I ran, now it's late, but it's ok, I don't have to get up early.

I'll feel better tomorrow.

Anyone get a seriously bad crash after dancing or running? like the runner's high and then a crash like a drug crash? i get really sad when it's time to go back in the doma...

I wonder if I'll tell J if I move. I wonder if I'll send him postcards from my roadtrip to Tennessee. Or from onwards to Ohio. (With a stop at you Kitty, for sure.) Or possibly onwards to New York.

And I wonder if I'll amble down to Table Top in 2 weeks and try to run into him there.

BUT NO MORE WRITING.

I will be writing more, k?

Cuz no more words for Julian. No more. No more.

Love you guys.

Beautiful calm driving.

P called me while I was at work, I finally just got myself to GO.

I've been a mess this month, is what it is. I've been a complete and utter mess, and it's been an inopportune time to be sloppy, but... All's rather fair in love and war.

What happened is I let my finances go, I haven't even looked at my bank statements in a month... I've hardly gone to work... I racked up over $500 in parking tickets- well, no, a lot more than that- over the last several months and just procrastinated paying them because I thought they were fixer tickets, but I procrastinated fixing too, getting my registration taken care of, and all that, and I really never think about money but now and then I end up in this place. Like. Oh god. Oh, my god. How will I pay my bills.

So that's where I'm at.

But no more. No more drinking. No more Vicodin. No more procrastinating sloppy-assedness. School is over but I have these two exams, and I'm gonna study, and I'm gonna do my remaining work, and I'm gonna go to work as many nights as I can, and go to open mics with Cam, and play again, and do this movie, and pay my bills, and get a desk. And Jo's gonna come with me so I do it, and we're gonna go to this damn wedding. And I'm gonna do my movie.

I'm gonna do it.

I went to work tonight, finally, and it was cool, no big money but it was fine, I met a cool artist there... and then P called me so I went over to see him and mess around a little and asked if he could help me out with rent again and he's going to.

And when I was driving there, listening to the mix that I made for Julian, in my stripper clothes under a sweatshirt, onto highways unknown, and the moon was so bright, and there were so many clouds, and it was finally warm... I felt it again... I felt free.