Plastic

Ο έρωτας είχε πάντα έναν καλό αριθμό στον ονειροκρίτη της μαμάς. Όταν ήμουν μικρή, η μαμά έπαιζε τους αριθμούς και θυμάμαι ότι είχε έναν ονειροκρίτη όπου έψαχνε να βρει το όνειρο της, και το βιβλίο της έλεγε αν το όνειρο ήταν καλό ή όχι, και αυτό συνοδευόταν απο αριθμούς τους οποίους έπαιζε. Τα ερωτικά όνειρα είχαν πάντα καλό αριθμό.

Όταν θέλεις να μοιάσεις σε κάτι σημαίνει ότι το αγαπάς πραγματικά. Όταν θέλεις να μοιάσεις σε ένα βράχο, τότε αγαπάς το βράχο. Εγώ αγαπώ τα πλαστικά είδωλα..

(κείμενο από andy warhol. όπου μικρή βλέπε μικρός)

Naked if i want to

Nude lips make me look like a dead blondie.

I adore them because they make me recall the time that i was missing you like hell and i wasn't only dead outside but inside mostly.

Now is weird beause i'm felling just fine.

But in the end i still got my nude lips.

SICKNESS

All of your love letters were written on restaurant napkins.

They used to make me smile, feel loved, precious.

All of them now when i read them make me want to throw up the best food in the world.

Thank God i still got your napkins to clean myself up.

l

i

e

s

I'm in too deep

The Basketball Diaries

- I just wanna be pure, I just wanna be pure.

- I felt dazed, like I just came out of a 4 hour movie I didn't understand

- Gee whiz, ma, we oughtta have these heart to heart talks more often, they're good for us.

- Just my own naked self and the stars breathing down, it's beautiful.

- You're growing up. And rain sort of remains on the branches of a tree that will someday rule the Earth. And it's good that there is rain. It clears the month of your sorry rainbow expressions, and it clears the streets of the silent armies... so we can dance.

- I'll tell you what, if our school was this nice I would go there more than once a week.

- When I was young, about eight or so, I tried making friends with God by inviting Him to my house to watch the World Series. He never showed.

- All I've been doing is reading this diary wondering how the hell I'm still alive?

I'm not dead yet

But i'm confused/confused/confused/confused/confused/confused/confused/confused/confused.

Sometimes i wish everything was different. I hate my cellphone. I wish there weren't any.

It would be nice if there were only payphones or even better just the phone at home.

Spending the whole day in, waiting for your call and when that call never comes, on my disappointment i'll go on and write love novellas with happy endings.

i love this month

“...and now April's ruling April's looming April's fooling, around, in yet another round, for this year's ruling April fool.”

On of those days

I TOOK MY MORNING WALK

I TOOK MY EVENING WALK

I ATE SOMETHING

I THOUGHT ABOUT SOMETHING

I WROTE SOMETHING

I NAPPED AND DREAMT SOMETHING TOO

AND WITH ALL THAT SOMETHING

I STILL HAVE NOTHING

because so much somethings has always been and always will be YOU

for my dear ma

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!” - Jack Kerouac

I Wanna Fight

This is a letter to you:

"Hey friend, you don't know me,

but you think you do,

and I want you too.

I'm everybody's friend,

and I'm personally connected with you.

This song's on the house,

and this one's for you.

I don't like the way you're treating me.

I wanna fight. Settle it right.

I forgot your name, but I'd be happy to

beat you to death with a pool cue."

Scars will remain

I think you saw me confronting my fear, it went up with a bottle and went down with the beer and i think you ought to stay away from here. If my fear has keep me here, only my fear can set me free.

I hope you'll hear me in the streetlights humming, softly breathing out your name.

MY DEAR I HEAR YOUR VOICE IN MINE.