heathermaxine

fuckin a.
agenda of the day:
go get boozed out and visit an art museum with extended family, the kind with money coming out of their ass and nothing coming out of their mouth. hurrah.

coke-stained lesbian with a taste for filth and perv and do i want a date? of course, of course. i like dates like i like prunes.

I feel: off. airy. floating. scarred.

last night my potty-mouth got us kicked out of a party. a first, to be thrown out of a party. perhaps it shows i haven't lived enough. but how exhilerating! to stand out in the cold waiting for a cab or a loving friend to give me a ride, knowing behind me stood a house of seething girls and drooling boys... and if aja weren't...
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i had something to say a moment ago but it fell away with my nail clippings and an eyelash. maybe i'll pick it up in a couple of months and wonder that a piece of trash like that could ever have been attached to my body.

listening to the hives...
me: they're very good, but they bring nothing new to the table. i mean, if i'm going to listen punk, i'll listen to the real stuff, the old stuff.
him: you and your sex pistols.
me: yeah, my sex pistols. those were the days.
him: green day, they were a good band...
me: but they're still around now. that freaks the...
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i'm sick again. it looks like a dry throat and a sharp cough are my christmas present from the heavens. hallelujah.

i feel like dancing today. i feel like throwing some shit out there, making some noise. i need someone to recognize me, acknowledge me, celebrate me as i celebrate them.

in the mean time, i'll give myself a pedicure and do last minute christmas...
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i got my nose pierced on saturday. i keep running my hands over it, twisting and pressing until it starts to hurt. it will probably get infected- you're only supposed to handle it immediately after cleaning your hands but mine, like the rest of me, are almost invariably dirty.

i love the way it interrupts my face.

i need to get a better picture. the...
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i feel slightly sprung and tense, as though something is happening or is about to happen and i will blunder my way through it all and never even realise it was significant until two weeks later.

but then again, maybe i'm just horny.

fountain.

Snapshot of moonlight and candlelight on alabaster and alabaster skin. Droplets of water and droplets of light that intermingle in water and sky as do two writhing bodies in a pool of dangerous spontaneity. Sparkle on pale flesh silent except for the resounding spash of water against body against mattress against time. Nothing except for the lubricious flow from one form to the next,...
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today the heel of my stiletto boot fell off and i limped on tiptoe like a bird with a broken wing.
and because i'm a trendy little whore, i've started using the word stiletto as a catch phrase. "what a stiletto party!" "i just bought this fabulously stiletto pair of jeans..."
i know. i know. i'm cool.