i'll put the moon on a spoon

it's 2010. i'm back in school now, done with my required drug classes. i think i want to keep going, if they'll let me. mr murray's just amazing. it's not like it prevents me from toking or drinking, but it makes me more aware of it.

you're still a sore spot. why are you doing this? you're beautiful handsome brilliant, you don't need that. you're a beautiful boy you are i just want to scream. if tears could bring you closer to me, we'd already be an old married couple. i hope that made sense. i limped around all day in a fog, worrying about you. i don't don't don't don't know what to do you don't want me and don't want to listen but i can do anything for you. i'll cook dinner and you can do the dishes, ok? and we'll drink kool-aid like your mom made for us that day and we can have a cat who's mean to our dog and we won't do meth. sound good? good.


i need a cigarette, a high school diploma, and a husband.

meet me in montuak

oh my darlin', oh my darlin', oh my darlin', clementine.
she's me in ten years. i'd like a guy with a bit more meat on his bones than joel. i want a honeymoon on ice and the little box of pot and getting all of our dishware at goodwill and burning incense in the apartment but always smoking on the balcony or by the fireplace. i have a habit of obsessing about my adult life. i know twenty years from now, i'll be willing to give anything to be in this room that i'm in now, with my robert downey jr and avatar posters on the laptop mom bought for me. i'm trying to enjoy it while i can.

i was supposed to go back to school the day after tomorrow, but since school canceled, my last drug class and piss test was canceled as well. so hopefully i won't have to wait until next tuesday to go back. i can't wait another week, i just can't. maybe i can work out some deal with them.

my name is kelsey and i am an abuser. i cannot just sip a few beers, i will chug ten. i cannot have the toasting half of champagne at midnight, i will down five glasses. i will sit outside in shorts to smoke when it's zero degrees and i will dry sob when asked about billy, and text dumb things and just make a complete ass of myself. i'm pretty good at that, y'know. at least i don't smoke pot though, right? three months clean from that, it feels good.

my record player is taking good care of me. te amo, victor.