it is aimee’s birthday forever.

welcome back, gentle whore.

there is no worse enemy than the one incapable of knowing why they may be wrong.

this world, i tell you.

i appreciate this anger. generally, jealousy alludes me. i just get pissed-off.

everyone here is an artfag and a boy and i am just a girl.

no one looks at her face.

subdued, oblivious-like yet very much aware of my surroundings.

no one sits with her.

no one talks to her.

‘cept for that ugly fag.

running wild dreaming until your eyeballs pop.

this is not my beautiful house.

where is all them ladies?

everyone is just so darn eager to listen ‘cos they know it’s their turn to talk next.

tapping my feet to kid a and dunning out my ashes in this pretty terracotta tray – handmade from mexico. im at jetfuel, alone at my sliver-topped, wooden-framed table. ahh. i hope i locked the door.

release me. you can keep the furniture.

i want to find a bed to crawl in and sleep away the rest of these days. can you help me out with that?

that was a wistful tune.

you need to be touched

hugged

and held

you need to feel

my gaze

on your neck

you need to

turn your head

around

you need to

hold my

hand

face

my everything

you need to sit

still with me

you need to

hug me

we are all slaving for causes we don’t believe in, collectively getting nowhere.

mike just put pepper in his coke, what a maroon.

why don’t you just get the fuck over it!? i can’t do this if your heart belongs to someone else!

he sits in the sunstreaked window of the coffeeplace waiting for his friend he wants us to think will eventually show up.

i dont even like espresso im just happy to sit here.

let your children play.

different girls wearing the same shoes sitting beside one-another in the cafe.

i lie in an early bed.

have you ever worked for the hydro? no. well, you turn me on kid.

you should be happy that you are not a stereotype.

mr.bob, we would like to have a speakyweaky with you.

certainly. but do so at the risk of further exposing your ignorance of proper conversational skills.

aporia – perplexity

a momentuous waste of time.

i am in the wrong place. i should be elsewhere, wishing i was here instead.

and now i am leaving you mother, for you are my weakness.

i am not a target market.

where you are from feels sort of irrelevant these days – since everyone has the same stores in their mini-malls.

celebrities die.

dead at 30 buried at 70.

shopping is not creating.

monsters exist.

bench press your iq.

remember earth clearly.

you are your own sex.

purchased experiences don’t count.

i’m not worth looking at twice today.

so today is kristi’s party it was suppose to be a surprise but i guess someone blew it. i called her and she is all are you coming tomorrow and i’m uh coming where? trying to be dumb and she goes for my party and i’m – oh i don’t knoooow there is a party? and she just starts laughing and says i am an idiot. i love kristi and i am loving putting her gift together and going man she is going to love this big pile of junk kuz she is hand-me-down-syndrome raymi. she actually has an aunt with down syndrome too. she’s the shit.

i use to date one of kristi’s cousins way way back when. me and kristi aren’t actually cousin’s ps so don’t go ew gross cousin-dater even tho that’s so hot right now. yah and my mum wasn’t down with me dating the dude kuz his dad was a junky and thought i’d get diseases so we never got to see each other save for like twice over a month. our relationship was talking on the fone and going this is what i wore to school today i am HOT. i think i was in grade seven at the time and he was a year older.

so one day we finally hung out and i let him feel me up with his dorky friend riding around on his bike. the ugliest guy in the world too. and then not two hours later he dumped me over the fone to brooke and brooke called me and i FLIPPED and three-way called his ass and i listened in and i was going to self-destruct. i felt so used and shitty and flat-chested kuz that’s what he said and what was worse was that i sneaked out to see him and got in shit for it and he had his dirty white trash paws on me.

he might even be there today.

kristi’s older brother (not the younger criminal one) was my childhood-neighborhood boyfriend. we use to kiss in the closet on the floor and fart on each other and laugh and play house and i was the mom and he went to work and the whole theme of the game was i had to kiss him before bed and before and after work but i was always afraid and didnt want to and got nervous so i’d make us tell knock knock jokes til i got up the courage and then finally i pecked him on the cheek and i was like i am suffocating up here in this fort in your basement and i’d go on my bicycle to the park.

i love fugue magazine i’ts like the new VICE but different because you get to pay for it and it is thicker and the articles are written not like they were written by me, lazy with run-on sentences and it’s based in la and as far as i know not established by pissed-at-the-world, we have all the answers because we are canadians and this is what cool is so nya nya nya types. though i love VICE still, but fugue, ooooooh i wanna sex you up. if u are smart about it you can get the first issue now and say i had the first issue when the magazine succeeds or when the magazine fails. for all i know they are canadian i haven’t even read the whole magazine yet kuz there is so much to look at and you know that whole living-thing and doing other stuff with myself gets in the way.

and also they reference canada too it’s not all about nyc and the scene wherever that is suppose to be.

- raymi the hosen scheisser

i forget about all the pictures i have. i liked this one because it reminds me of how eccentric i think i am, pretend to be. wearing a scarf according to people ’round here, is pretty ballsy, pretty “out-there” like woah, totally, especially if it is plaid and the shirt is striped. fuck that i know how to co-ordinate color schemes and pull that shit together and even if it doesn’t go for you, for me, it DOES. i will wear ten scarves at the same time and wear scarf jackets and gloves and you hAVE to be seen with me, ok! and when i wore that outfit with the scarf to the “coolest” spot in town this girl came up to me and said i was the hottest girl there and i was like that’s fucking RIGHT! and then i fell into a bunch of people and blamed it on them. heh.

i like apologizing for when people bump into me, like willy the wimp.

did anyone ever read that book? me and jason thorne my very good black friend from grade one fucking loved that book. willy the wimp was a skinny little monkey-nerd who got picked on by these big gorillas who throw him in a trash can and when he walked down the street he bumped into a pole and said sorry to it. ehh. and he had a bowtie and a big head and a sweater-vest (ha noel!) and cuorduroy pants.

so one day he sends away for these dumbbells and starts pumping iron and jogging and he gets all burly as shit and he sees the scarey bully gorillas and they are scared of him but willy the wimp doesn’t turn all mean and vengeful even though he could kick them asses, he stays true to his charm and hospitality and they are all friends in the end.

i woulda slapped the shit out of them at least a little bit before being nice and friends. but i’d like to think i wouldn’t slap anyone, only if they asked me to.

yay me and james hung like chicken from strings and i told him all this crazzy shit about my life since we saw’re each other last and he is like oh. well, i was in a hot tub naked once with my girlfriend and some other people? his brother is a christian. nufsaid.

dadraymi and i are gonna see a movie tomorrow. cheap tuesdays rulesdays. i’m always like yeh one student please, pfffffffffft. and then girl is like ok what school do you go to and i’m like uh ahh ok i was lying but then gives me student price anyway. rn thought that was pretty funny. i was just so dumb with fatigue and sadness to even think of what my old highschool’s name was.

so drug/booze-counselling was good. i left there feeling pretty zzz but good my counsellor’s other person didn’t show up so we went outside for a smoke. i am bringing shawnraymi next appointment too. it’s good.

yoga was good though i was a bit scatter-brained for it and there are just some things i can’t do properly ‘cos my body is funky and trained to move in different ways, danseur ways. i even brought my ballet slippers.

i thanked the yoga inslutster afterward.

james saw this one woman wipe out on her bike outside the place and i was all oh man that’s the limberest woman in my class. her sandal got caught on her peddle and she had chain grease on her fingers. i’m like who are you, me?

blythe likes cemeteries she tole me.

a sub is on its fine-ass way to me and then i’m gonna fagboard into your hearts on these mean streets kuz i’m just a po-girl tryin’ to make it in this world.

nah what ahm sayin’ sumpin sumpin?

then i’m gonna fag out yoga styles.

“i know i believe in me, i am i am.”

when me and aimee went to yoga last week the way it ended was all new-agey gayness, like it was all silent and people just left. pfft. i thought we might be too crazy for yoga but we were mature and didn’t look at each other too much except for upside-down in the mirrors and when i almost fell over during one position thing-thang.

I AM YOGATRON!

aimee asked if the woman asked my permission to touch me and she didn’t, she just touched away, but she asked aimee for permission. that’s prolly kuz it says i am a whore you can touch me long time on my forehead.

that’s aimee on the skirtbike. sorry charlie’s angel’s II! tim just wants her kuz she looks like a jewbroad.

this is aimeetheminx. she is wicked hot and hotter and looks like a porno when she wears her bikini. if you know her you love her. if you don’t love her i’ll punch you or say something that only i think is funny or condescending or i won’t say it at all to you i’ll say it to aimee and she’ll go bwuahuhuhuh that IS funny. like the time we bumped into amazon blond fakelesbian and she made aimee feel bad for being amazing and wasted and having raymi in her pocket singing songs about bitches and porn and aids and being girls gone wild. amazon woman you have dumb hair and me and aimee can fit us both at the same time in your jeans. cokeslut.