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I like just sitting at 3 am on my window sill chain smoking cigarettes and watching the smoke trails roll on my fingertips. Its when I feel ironically safest to think on my own for a while.






tonight I learned how to open a bottle with a lighter. I felt so cool. I thought maybe I could pick up chicks this way.





the apartment brimmed with laughter as drinks sloshed in solo cups and shots lapped at the back of our throats. Powdered brown sugar molly sat warming in the front pocket of Ming-Ming’s jeans as we threw back more skyy. Photobooth pictures flashing in the next room while we circled and lit rolling papers. Getting to the warehouse we dipped fingers into the ziplock bag and onto our tongue, shaking the chemical aftertaste from our thoughts. Night turning to a wild blur of glistening smiles and drunk tales only stopping to catch my breath as I sat in the bed downing beers. Room a tornado mess we finally closed our eyes and talked till drunk slurs became incoherent.




BIRTHDAY with the AMF being churned around in the metal bucket stirring the sounds like a mating call, people began showing up. One Ritalin taken to keep me awake for the long night ahead, I began downing drinks and socializing with the new faces walking through the door. Each moment brought me closer to the midnight call of my birthday and for some reason I was nervous. I hadn’t seen these people in a while and I wanted to make sure everything was going smoothly. Without the help of Maverick who was busy keeping another birthday girl occupied, I had to solo mission the party to myself; and as the night started to fill with more guests, the house bursted with a stir and I found myself getting more and more drunk. A few moments before the birth day was about to be chimed in, powered white lines gathered on top of the Teena Marie record I kept on the wall of my room, and entered my blood stream. Like a cue on stage, I shouted to the masses in the front yard it was my birthday and cheering began as a flush of blush entered my cheeks. And just like that, as if a stage manager was calling a show, a friend of a friend began fire spinning, dancing with lit hula hoops and breathing fire into the night sky almost burning down my neighbour’s house. With bouncer’s of the club behind my house making a special appearance at the party, it still continued and left a good taste in everyone’s mouths until the sour after burn started to take place. With a fast fist and dirty words, the party took a turn ending as Maverick got punched in the cheek by some trying-too-hard anti socialite who quickly left the scene. With the party mimicking my come down I finally went to bed happy for the way my 20th was brought in.




SEPTEMBER and suddenly like that, it didn’t matter anymore. it’s like that feeling you get when you’ve forgotten something in the house on your way out, and for a split second you decide to go back and turn around but then realize you don’t need it. That feeling where the weight of something you left behind has been suddenly lifted. yea I guess this is what that feels like. the feeling of I don’t give a shit and whatever this was, is gone as quickly as it started.



OCTOBER Its crazy how losing trust in the people you thought you had hand selected does this crazy thing to you. The thought that your own screening process of selecting people to put faith in was misguiding you. Cash Money is going through more things than she’s willing to talk to me about. I know that since I’m not a girl she doesn’t think I will understand, and maybe I wont, but I still want to try–


All she does is– takes another shot for that date that she planned for, with that “friend� that will never come. To save her from that loneliness she finds at the bottom of the shot glass.



the small pieces of paper made my mouth salivate and irritated. I don’t like the way wet paper feels along the soft sides of my gums. But I guess this was it. The location had been chosen. The drugs had been procured. And I was finally ready for whatever was gunna happen over the next couple of hours. Maverick, Kat, and I, sat waiting for the long first hour to go by, when our eyes began to dilate and our brain would begin to sizzle. Flashes of heat passed, filling my pores of Siracha sweat and soon the carpet turned to cogs of a clock, and a small light bulb recessed in the ceiling turned into a metal lily, blooming with life, and suddenly withering to death in front of my black eyes. We walked around the golf course like homeless people seeing a free brunch for the first time. Unable to understand what was real and what was the illusion of reality. Seconds seemed like hours and hours seemed like lifetimes. We talked of love and hope till the sun started to shine into our dilated pupils and we finally went to bed unable to begin to process what dipped paper had done to our evening.







FEBRUARY the nicotine headache just isn’t enough to escape this place anymore. I feel like running and staying stagnant at the same time, just to disrupt the fucking placid lake that only ripples in the wind. I swear some stone was dropped into the middle and I drowned with it.





the paper slipped around my thumb and index finger as I re-rolled benjamin back into place. And just like that, from the cold metal of the mac book pro, my virginity of that Lindsey Lohan was taken. From there only fragmented thoughts of memory and glassed filled shots filled the rest of my head as I stumbled back into my apartment at a loss of where my phone and apartment key had gone. Eyes and mouth drunk with words and images they shut to regret.


sometimes my head implodes and I sit here counting the minutes as if they matter much.










So precious in her young life, her hands tremble over his skin, In return sniping that “irreplaceable” flower, that she let be killed with pleasure. I sat listening to the tales of her sticky mind, pollinated with hopeful eyes and a hopeful heart. Her mind coming down from the clouds of prescriptions, I couldn’t help but be hopeful too. Hopeful, the same will happen sometime soon to me.





with a hammer I crushed the left over pill on the back of an ipad and made lines with its purple chalk for the 3 of us. With the edible already taken we rolled up a single and set forward the night. Eyes dilating we blasted the music taking shots at our will. The evening taking hills and valleys we spoke of topics sober minds wouldn’t cross and danced as drunk ravers. I barley woke up the next morning, I cancelled whatever I had planned.





a zippo lights an old flame and I ignite the bowl of distraction. As long as the lips don’t taste foreign saliva we’re in the clear. my inner echoing voice reminds the intoxicated youth. We sit there eyeing the birds chirp lies into each other’s ears. The clock strikes and the caged birds sings lullabies of good-byes and with mixed music transitions, and we settle back into cigarette smoke and moobahton tunes.






this a book about youth and the different levels of growing up we all faced. this is a book about myself. this is a book about everyone. this is a book with pictures and a book with text. I hope you enjoy it, and place it on the coffee table in your home.

I'm Happiest When The Car Stereo Is Playing  
I'm Happiest When The Car Stereo Is Playing