katie

Tue, 21 Jun 2005 20:56:41 GMT

i'm a mess of desperation, hope, and paint.

Sun, 10 Apr 2005 06:54:52 GMT

i'm still alive, been busy.
and probably not the person you knew a month, or less, ago.

Thu, 17 Mar 2005 09:30:38 GMT

uninspired, at best
what will shake these cold blues away?

Fri, 25 Feb 2005 07:01:38 GMT

three days ago i got some bamboo shoots, the tag said that they would bring good luck.
i killed them all in two days.

i've just decided i'll have to go where there is bunches of bamboo, instead.

Fri, 11 Feb 2005 20:36:40 GMT

barely sleeping, thinking, living.

Wed, 02 Feb 2005 06:09:46 GMT

Sat, 29 Jan 2005 18:03:13 GMT

Wed, 26 Jan 2005 03:47:46 GMT

the ring was loud and shrill; haunting, it echoed through the house. i could see a mist of devistation surround the room; bugs waiting to die. i had to leave. i drove fast; too fast, hitting a brick wall seems just. what haunts most is the carelessness of others, oh it stings.

you will be missed.

Wed, 19 Jan 2005 06:24:58 GMT

everything simply, feels so forced - sleep is a farce, as I wake up (confused, as if i drifted somewhere else, and dreams, shockingly life like) and wonder about the next day, exhausted inside and out. my stomach aches and twists itself into knots; it hurts to think about you; i fall back exasperated. my head is foggy; like those days crossing the river, gulping in air shutting my eyes tightly and clamping hands over ears, not wanting it to slip in, but its in...it is in.

Thu, 09 Dec 2004 00:19:16 GMT

legs outstretched and stiffening in the black. the earth is sighing and the trees fall together with the inhales and exhales, bowing (seemingly, to me). i expel breath quickly fading in the cold, and think how i will be glad when december descends into the rest of the year, a memory (although, new years always bring false promises.)

and, its not distaste, not anymore; its just sometimes i really wonder if you get tired of hearing you're amazing.

Wed, 17 Nov 2004 05:14:51 GMT

long inhales with short exhales. winter breathes heavily down my neck scarves strangle me across my apple. words are stuck in throats, sputtering, growing limp with each passing moment bodies exausted, its possible and everything is pulsing with throbbing revolutions through arms and legs and fingers. remains, nothing was fathomed (just the same as yesteryear.)

this week brought nothing, simply nothing. i'm deflated. (like birthday balloons, slowly sinking to the ground the more you wish them to bump and bob off your ceiling.) i'm alive, yes, but i am not living.