baby_donut

I haven't written in a while and I finally was able to piss out some stream of consciousness stuff so here it is. Schol is crazy and intense. I spend all the day practicing waxing and facials and being in a pseudo beauty school cult. Luckly I've made friend with the coolest tranny girl ever who is sexier than Jayne Mansfield but looks a hell of a lot like her.and an older hairdresser guy who has seen Gen X and the Clash in the 80s and looks like a skinny Elvis Costello and plays rockstar music in his spare time. A girl in my class takes pictures all day long of us waxing and being half naked so I will have to get her to e-mail them to me so you can see what life at the Paul Mitchell is all about. Xo
Here's the writing.

I dreamnt that Marilyn Monroe
was on my creamy yogurt container
and I only bought it for her picture

The days fall into eachother
Tuesday Thursday Friday
I don't even know

My clock ticks for you
wake up smelling of you
remember you telling
me I was beautiful
when I can't remember
what beautiful is

only know that girls have eyes

the size of goldfish bowls
and they stare and glare
and make you feel like your face
is breaking
a cracked dish
something no sun lamp
no eyeshadow could fix

but you fall into me
on top of me
you push your way
out my eyes and
I ooze with you
don't care
that I have forty more words
to memorize
I size up your thighs
I bite your neck
like a sick leech
I but there are still
worms coming out my eyes
and I am not completely dead on the inside
I have it all in me
like cupcake batter
wating to ooze out
from between my legs
I just need you to press a little harder
and I know the way I like it will
make me bleed

millapere is an electrical charge
I am barging in your class
passing you into my hallway
I am not so refined
not ready for Hollywood
need to burn off a few more
calories
need to take you in my mouth
fuck lunch
I am punching down cardboard walls
taking you like a vitamin
it feel so fucking good
my lips are parched from one too many cigarettes
I think if I bum them out I get less nicotine
but I am green and it's obscene
want what's in his pants
want it for myself
want the blue green of the television
screen to appear between my tits
so you can watch me like a movie
I'm no good at pretending
the bruises are thick and purple
I like the feeling of leather
some vegetarian
all the while I know you love me
at least in your solar plexis
even if you want to throw up
I'll have you for lunch