and the winner is...

pure kush. more pain relief and lasts longer. but now i am hungry.

i smoke, and smoke and i smoke the bubba kush, but my fucking hands still hurt. what the fuck? should i try a sativa? i'm a babe in the woods...

gone

it is late at night when i usually realize the enormity of everything i have thrown away. 2:36 a.m. is the hard time of the night. what have i done?

iPhone porn...

i love my new iPhone. i can't stop looking at it. holding it. stroking the screen with my thumb. cold, heavy, solid...smart. like a piece of technology from a slightly advanced parallel universe.

it will be obsolete in two weeks.

my father

I was getting off the ferry at 1 am, on my way home from louisiana where i had just the day before emptied a cheap plastic box of my father's ashes into the still waters of the lake behind his house. i had left memphis at 6 am the previous morning, and had slept about 5 hours in the past 3 days. as i turned the corner of the enclosed tunnel that leads from the ferry brow to the terminal exit i saw a man. he was stooped and old. jaw thrust out. drugstore bifocals perched on the tip of his nose. his hair was fine and brown and thinning yet parted perfectly and hairsprayed into place.  he wore a maroon velour track suit, with a hooded top thrown back. he wore white running shoes with white socks. he leaned upon an aluminum can and stared at me impatiently as i plodded up the walkway.  as i got closer he continued to glare at me, clearly annoyed. my footsteps slowed and i looked at him and started to speak.  the passenger behind me hissed noisily through his nose in frustration and accelerated around me. i picked up the pace, and as i got closer the man in the velour track suit looked away, over my shoulder. i turned the corner.  as i neared the automatic doors of the terminal exit i stopped and looked back, but my father was gone.

hitting the reset button...

motherfucker.

reset. restart. let's try this again...

to blog...

or not to blog?

Catalina