January 2011
19 posts
“Let me clarify to anyone that doesn’t know what exactly DTR is. DTR- down to rage. DTR is a group of hot girls placed on this earth to fuck your day up and make ours awesome. We can probaly out drink, smoke, dance, sex and party you..at any given moment. DTR means youre ready to fucking rock at the drop of a hat. You don’t sleep..thats for dead people..you rage.You rage like...
Daily Routine
I’m looking out the front windshield of Maria’s white beamer at the open road ahead. My window’s open a bit, just wide enough to let the breath of the air seep in. My right hand stealthily sneaks through the crack in the window and lightly taps the roof, in concurrence with the bass drum. The tobacco saturated air dances below my nose. I find safety in the smell of cigarettes. We’re...
a self portrait.
I’m just a person that ‘gets it’.
Not everybody ‘gets it’. In fact, few people do. To ‘get it’ means to understand how fucked up the world is and be okay with it. To ‘get it’ is to give a shit about what matters. To ‘get it’ is doing what you love and loving what you do.
And I ‘get it’.
It wasn’t until recently, I’d say about two years ago, that I finally ‘got it’. I used to be the kinda girl...
The Trestle
An old train trestle serves as our diving board, forty feet above a river chock full of cigarette butts, socks, and stone boulders. The trestle itself is about a hundred feet long from end to end. Wooden planks are evenly spaced approximately eight to ten inches apart from another. They’re connected by rusty iron bolts. The entire structure is faded and worn, I’d expect it to be at...
I want to be punched in the face.
Not slapped, not tapped, punched. Full force, preferably to my right cheekbone. Close enough to my eyeball that a few blood vessels break, giving me a nice shiner. My clear, blue eye in a puddle of dark, swollen tissue surrounded by my pale, fair skin. That is what I really want.
I have really wanted this for about a month now and have had little luck getting...
