Friday Nov 12, 2004

0
beck.
last night i wandered around the dirty parts of nola, where my dreams always are- and was pulled aside by willie to an upstairs bar sort-of-thing, a combination between snake's and goat's place with the railings. any way. he said things to me, about jules and even she was there, i think... and i can see his lips moving right now in my head but i cannot understand him. sigh. i need to call goat. and i need to get on the road. lunch with the uncles. and where else? but the evil. ponderosa. which i loathe. as well. mad love. more later.
hyenahell:
just ate mcdonalds. so i am sure i will be sick shortly. but. it was so delicious... i don't want to go to work tonight. i feel spacy, like things are slowly coming apart. disintegrating. it's the time of year, i know. from now until february it will be like this. and it will get worse... it's just now coming on. but it's not terrible. i'll be a little mad, but i'll be able to see things. it is worth it, i geuss. anyway, i am going to wait until rhys goes to work, and then go get some coffee. bleh. yeah, i know i need a new coffee pot. but. whatever. i'll talk to you later, my head's still not right yet.

love you. more. than anything.
beck.
melvina:
your head and mine today, eh? meh. i've been seeing and hearing things. more than that.. it's still the chants that goat sang into my head but more. i think willie nelson is my familiar in dream. ha. HAH. NOT EVERYBODY GETS TO TALK TO WILLIE IN THEIR SLEEP.
i am special.
and i am insane. my aunt is in and i had lunch with the uncles this morning and my aunt says. mel. we really must talk. CALL ME.
and to myself, i think. HMM? what could this be. (probably not grand since it's coming from her.) and what do you know. i call my mom. ask her wtf is up. and.
my aunt wants to give me the it's-time-to-get-on-with-your-life speech. AS IF THIS WERE THE RIGHT TIME OF YEAR TO GIVE THAT TO ME.
anger.
ANGER.
and as if that weren't enough. farmer's mom caught me at wal-mart this morning and decided to start in on the. it's-not-the-kid-in-the-trucks-fault-cause-i-know-the-mother BLAH BLAH BLAH. i hate them all. this is not the right time. there will never be a right time. i will never go on with my life. i will never recover. and who would. after losing some thing like her. some thing like jules.
sigh. beck. to hell with them. and to peru with us. i'll call you after the weekend. i hope it goes all right. tell all i said hello for me, will you? and. stuff.
mad. mad. mad love, baby.
<3

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