treasure days

forget about sunny days and cleaning parties
i'm talking about life
and all it's treasures
i'm talking
wall art and curtain hanging
i'm talking about your face in the mirror and my hands waving back

forget about cigarettes and spilled
mimosas
i'm talking about the chatter
that fills the night sky
as we sit and delay the fresh air
from hitting our smoked out
lungs

forget about happiness
and giggles
i'm talking about the
endless
laughter and times of overwhelming
joy

joy

joy

forget about me
i'm talking about
you

you

you

rainbow day

crystalized matter surrounds me

i look out and see prisms

prisms in your eyes

prisms in the sun

rainbows of what was

and what is

and what is going to be

i can't break this yet

because these prisms are so bright

and i'm basking

and touching

and glowing

in the rainbows of what was

what is

and what is going to be.

just rambles.

This is the miserable part. Everything inside me NEEDS to write...everything in my brain, heart, body, it all wants to push out. It wants to process. It wants to rest.
Too much good.
Too much hope.
Too much everything not to write.
But it's so hard. This resistance is vicious. It's only 6 19 and I'd rather do anything than write...but really...that's so untrue.
I want to write until my fingers bleed, until my wrists are broken, until I go blind. I want to write until I have a stack of papers so thick that I can't even carry it.
But I don't know what to say.
I don't know what I feel, other than completely overwhelmed with joy...and therefore, fear.
These miniature panic attacks when everything is perfect. What the fuck is that all about?
How is it that I can be having the time of my life, and panic strikes for a minute, forcing in thoughts of misery and unhappiness?
Is that just the human condition? Not truly comfortable unless I'm somehow unhappy?
But oh how happy I am. This happiness reaches into every pore of my body and I'm flooded and blinded and sailing and falling and I'm not even sure where I am, so disoriented because of this happiness.
I don't want to over glorify life, though. I don't want to be unaware of the fact that things are going to suck sometimes, and that's okay.
And maybe that's where the fear comes in, knowing that at some point, sometime, probably even sometime soon, I'll cry. Or hurt. Or just be upset or disturbed for no reason at all.
I dread those moments. I dread moments of dispair, and as I dread them...I get a taste of it. Of the moment that I might be secretly summoning just so that I don't have to wait anymore.
I'm still looking absently around and fiddling with my phone, just to avoid this. To avoid the flow of emotions and thoughts that I know will instantly relieve me when they're out of me.
I think of other things I could be doing: reading, laundry, movie, smoking, napping, anything but this. And this..this...this...is what I really want to do..what I want to do all day every day.
It's the only tangible thing in life that fills me.
oh.
and love.
Love came again. And this time just destroyed me. Destroyed.
I want to love him with everything I have. But what if I don't have enough? What has caused me such discontent in the past? Was it just never the right time?
I never want it to stop being the right time with him. I never want to run away from him. And yet I've said all this before, I've loved before.
And I love again.
And I guess that's all I can do...is to keep giving it. To keep receiving it. To keep spending ridiculous days with him and smiling and laughing and being so sickeningly in love that everyone else and us included want to puke all over everything.
okay.

my life just keeps getting better.

i love dance parties.

so

so

so

much.

and now san diego with chrissy bear.

loooooooooooooooooooooove.

this is the first bit of alone time i've had for days. part of me loves it and part of me hates it.

this tiny room is so filled with smoke that my lungs can barely stand it.

my head is so filled with thoughts that i'm not sure what to do with them all.

i'm in love with him in a way that i only understand when i look in his eyes.

blinded.

The decision about my jobs ended up being made for me.

Riley's fired me.

For wearing leggings to work. I don't think that needs any further explanation.

This has been the best and worst week of my life.

So tired. so stressed. so malnourished. so disorganized. so under/over slept. so irresponsible.

And yet...I wouldn't give up one second for anything.

Yes, I may have been fired. 

But who the fuck cares. I want to travel anyway. And I still have habana...regardless of the fact that I make no money there. 

It's all okay.

It's all perfect.

hot mess.

I'm feeling really weird today.
It might have to do with the fact that I slept for another 14 hours last night. I'm turning into baby bear.
I can't do anything right today. It's actually pretty amusing. I put my coffee cup in the basket at cvs and spilled coffee all over my not yet purchased items. ah well.

I'm still trying to figure out if I'm going to quit habana, or not. If I'm being honest there isn't one ounce of me that wants to stay there, minus the fact that I'm being persuaded to (that feels nice, right?). I'm just too disorganized to work 7 days a week and get all the other shit done that I need to get done. What's the point in actually having the money to pay my bills if I'm constantly forgetting to pay them?

So, yes, for the 4th time, I'm going to go into habana tomorrow with the plan of telling them I'm done. This time I hope it works.

I mean, working 7 days a week really just makes me want to get as fucked up as possible on the afternoons that I'm not working.
Last night was fun, though. Sebastian, Ben, and I decided to take a little salvia trip. Nothing too intense, we mixed it with pot. It was fun...ended with us laying in a circle on the bed and passing out at 9 pm. Needed it.

I really don't like not having time to evaluate my own thoughts. I have no fucking idea whats going on in my head right now. It's just a jumble of work, friends, tim, life, exploration, and exhaustion...but it's just a jumble. Nothing decipherable.

Time to get ready for work again.