Author Archives: raymi

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glow in the dark raymi

I didn’t go to bed last night. The night before I slept for two hours because I promised my dad I’d get up and drive him to his last day at a course he had to take so that he can one day get his suspended driver’s license back. Sometimes I think it’s not the best idea for him to be allowed to drive ever again but that’s a whole other story and mostly I just want him to be okay again, if he ever was.
Am I okay? Sometimes I think yes, but then other times I’m so clearly not. I sleep all day then go to work in the evenings, then come home and stay up all night reading books and blogs and watching cartoons on television that are meant for twelve year olds and generally wasting time because I want so bad to just create something but I can never figure out what it should be so I do nothing.
I have friends, I have hobbies, I have a life, but those sorts of things only matter when you’re experiencing them. The hardest thing to do is to be happy without distraction. To be yourself by yourself and be comfortable with that. I stay awake until I run out of things to do and then once I fall asleep I don’t want to wake up again. I have problems with momentum.
I forget where I was going with this now. Every thing starts to get disjointed as you approach the forty-hour mark and you keep seeing flashes in your peripheral vision like little patches of self illuminating reality and you start getting so tired that you’re awake again and then eventually you get to forty-eight hours and pass out lying on a fork. All the you’s and your’s in that last sentence should be replaced with I’s.
I think my point in the beginning was that fuck I’m tired but when I got home tonight, your book had come in the mail so obviously being so far past tired I had to read it and I’m glad I did and I think that one day I want to meet you at a concert or at the fair and just go up to you and kind of nod like I’m saying “So this what everything is.” and then I’d buy you a drink or hug you or something and then I’d offer you some cotton candy.

Colin

The post is from RaymiTheMinx.com copyright 1888 to 2888

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Hey Hey;

not to sound “too” stalkerish, but my buddy ordered your book from cafepress and sent it to me for Christmas.. I just started reading it and must say that so far, you’re fuckin awesome. Thanks for actually “writing” in a day when so much bullshit is put into a book and we’re forced to pretend to enjoy it — when there’s actually people out there like you who are able to formulate a sentence in it’s most natural and honest form.

Sarah.

The post is from RaymiTheMinx.com copyright 1888 to 2888

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after reviewing all of the fotos from last nite it has occurred to me that i am really getting fucking fat and i better do something about it. anyway.

after the shoe museum fil decided to stay in and not venture out with me and my droogs and he made a wise choice because today i received my first ever for real grown up hangover, no lie. so all those other hangovers were FAKEOVERS! nice one.

we crashed jeff’s (pictured) private work party at supermarket and totally threw down. melody sang dreamer by ozzie wearing a trashy negligee and jeans and hi-top sneakers and i stood in front of the stage screaming at her and going WOOT WOOT YEAH BLEEEARRGH! and also doing “the point” and nodding my head like i knew what it was all about meanwhile everyone is in office attire and being polite, responsible drunks and then back on the farm i have the microphone and am screaming beastie boys songs and making up porno freestyle raps and calling everyone bitches.

samir threw me in the snow and then i put a snow boulder down the back of his jacket and melody totally slid and fell on the icy sidewalk and it was very funny.

as we were leaving some homeless guy asked us to buy him some corn chips and i said no dude but ask that guy his name is jeff. ha!

The post is from RaymiTheMinx.com copyright 1888 to 2888

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it is old man fil’s birthday this saturday and he will be thirty-one years old and then it is noel’s birthday on sunday and he will also be thirty-one years old. i have been trying to get fil to open his birthday present everyday since i bought it but he is one of those gays who are all into being surprised and i am all LOOK AT IT NOW!! HEY PHIL LETS OPEN YOUR PRESENTS!!!!!

nobody likes me.

The post is from RaymiTheMinx.com copyright 1888 to 2888

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i like how all my friends are like HEY RAYMI MOVE BACK TO THE CITY WE’LL HANG OUT ALL THE TIME and now that i am here they’re like, avoiding me. that’s fine, i can make new friends. if you want to be my new REAL LIFE friend email me your phone number and you can buy me lunch! I AM SERIOUS!

anyway, i am listening to the ipod machine right now so i can’t hear how loud i am farting.

also something that drives me MENTALLY INSANE in a major way is when i am finished showering and towelling-off, well before i towel-off i squeegee my body with my hands and once i get to the crack of my ass there are like a hundred hairs stuck in there, hairs from my head, long black ones and so i have to pull them all out and most of the time my tile wall hair art consists of hairs that have been in my butt. ha phil! burn on you!

The post is from RaymiTheMinx.com copyright 1888 to 2888

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Raymi,

I received your book yesetrday and I missed my ‘International migrations’ 1pm class because of it :-< You must get only good feedback so it will just be another boring email but hear this: You have balls. I fucking respect that, especially in Art. Your prose is unafraid and yet you admit being afraid sometimes, the writing is vulnerable but in a don’t-give-a-fuck-nothing-to-lose-way. It is fair to say, I believe, that this is quite rare in waves of Post Modern cynical literature. And it’s refreshing, because you’re Gen Y but you’re not cynical. Jaded yes, sad maybe, but at the end of the day very much alive, as funny as it may sound to you. And this life, as shitty as it can be sometimes, you pass it on to your readers and maybe they in turn turn you into some kind of icon just because they have no one else to look up to, or maybe because they recognize themselves in you, but at the end of the day what you do is just what artists do: make other people’s lives more meaningful. So fuck, we owe you one for being fearless yet full of fears and doubts, Raymi. Jessica

The post is from RaymiTheMinx.com copyright 1888 to 2888