23.5.14

Drunken feelings
Linger from the tip of the back of your skull
To the front lobe
I know this because that I how I feel

And as it continues,
it melts into your eyelids

Eventually,
It will slip outside of my mouth.
As I yawn.
Okay my brother just smoked crack. 
Oh, stumbling on
The train
It's that my body is drunken
As poorly as my brain
And as we teeter
From car to car
I catch myself
Because I'm the dancing star

I didn't mean to
Become vulnerable too quickly
It's your glasses
That creaked when you kissed me

I can see clearly
That I'm purely a ghost still
As I travel from Finland to Russia
Still consuming my pretentious pills

But I don't want to rhyme anymore
I'm bound to my hometown
And the trees,
They look so different
I want to play music so badly
i've been on the verge of a panic attack twice within three days
I think that drinking could take it away
Sipping on Finnish vodka
Smooth and cold in a fancy little plastic cup
To ease my skull that keeps me corrupt

I've forgotten the man that used his hand
When he felt that it was necessary to make me understand
Tha bodega men, they miss me, they've said
Without Rumpelstiltskin, I'd find myself dead.

My money flies when fur finds itself inside the same time
But I can rely on my mother to buy the wine
I need more vodka to retain this frame of mind
But cocaine follows me on the planes that I fly

 can take my stash through security all that I want
But crossing Russian borders is where I ought to start
The eggy creepy crawls
I'm Snarkbottom until I fall

I've got a weakness for being too open
But nothing matters if I'm vulnerably closed in
You think the mystery is dead
But there's novels that lie underneath the bed

Momma say that she got some chocolate
I say that I gotta get some vodka
We argue when to have the next round
And I laugh that babulia will smell it on us when we're in town

But momma grab my arm, she say "It will smell like family."
230514
Finland is the most passive woman that I have ever met.
Her purity is calming, though it makes me realize she is lucky that I'm not here for long.
I slithered my way onto her skin running away from what I've become in America.
This country, I could swoon in one night only to leave her dead and freshly evil.
It's so easy to destroy pure things.
It's usually a guilty accident.
However, I have come here in weakness, and these streets are so clean.
The air smells of freshly mown grass like that of my baby days,
But the little bits of gasoline make me feel as if I am already in Russia.
Everyone here has multiple dogs of the same breed,
And I wonder if that is due to aesthetics or the lack of creativity.
Maybe they never separate the siblings because everyone is so soft hearted, and that makes sense.

But yes, they are so sweet here.
I feel so separated and as if I don't belong.
I would frighten these people.
They are bold in their happiness, and many have come up offering help.
It seems that they view others as fellow human beings
Rather than the way New Yorkers view each other as ants that crowd the sidewalk.
This girl who works in a booth selling coffee by the Gulf of Finland gave me a poem that she wrote,
And to sum it up, she dreams of bigger things, 
But understands there is a bit of torture to endure
In order to seal your escape.
I don't think that there will be many moments in our lives where we are satisfied in the present
Because we are always aspiring for what we believe could be better.
That's really okay, though.
It causes for the constant strive towards growth,
And to simply plateau where you stand
Would leave you as lazy as a glop.
There aren't many trash cans here,
But there are many people who walk around picking up waste.
And though the tram is just like the one in Poland,
These people are passive in a different way than the Pols.
The folks here are quiet in a positive silence
Rather than the pained expressions I was surrounded by in Krakow.
The elevators are like those in Russia.
Small cages that you shove yourself into.
So sensitive, they break.
But this time,
Instead of freezing still in between floors,
This one paused and started to descend back to the ground.
It was frightening, but I wasn't surprised
Because my luck always brings me to deathly accidents.
Ah, but the smell of these elevators.
It is the same as Russia and Italy.
It's this dustiness that is so specific.
I don't know why, but it's something I want in my mouth.
To roll up this dust into a cigarette.
And smoke this memorable stench only to stain my lungs with it.


Everything I unpack smells of cinnamon and cigarettes,
And I guess that is a good way to describe myself.
Traveling with my mother has its benefits,
But Jesus, I am left to swim in my mind so much
That I feel consumed and alone in this journey.
We went to the island of Suomenlinna
Where there is this village of artists and angry geese.
We took a ferry there,
And I was engulfed by children.
One had a toy repeating the tune of Rudolf the Fucking Reindeer.
I think it is my karma enduring this because I was the loudest and most energetic child of them all.
So much that I've quoted my mother saying she wanted to kill me all of my childhood.
There were so many dungeons to explore.
I felt all of the evil in them.
My mother didn't follow me as I ran` down the hill,
And I knew she would be a piss about it,
But being alone felt so good.
I miss myself.
Waiting for the ferry,
I was laying in the sun basking like a lizard,
And what do I know,
This lizard is basking in fresh bird shit.

I think that a big part of the way I feel is related to the fact that I haven't listened to any music nor made any.
I've trolled my own soundcloud for only a few moments.
We went to a photo exhibit,
And I hid myself in a dark corner where they were projecting.
And I just sang and sang, and my anxiety melted into something I could stomp.
I think the purity of this town just aids the spin in my skull.
And the fact that I accidentally brought cocaine with me.
That god damn silver snake has followed me through out the years.
That inhale intake, I'm in love with a bad woman that I can't leave.
Oh, but I must, and I will, it's going to be okay, I know.
I'm about the get on the train to Russia.
I don't feel like I'm out of the country.
I feel nothing.
I think it is because I am living in my head.
Frozen in time.

22.5.14

I feel like a bird perched.
I feel like I'm not present.
I am consumed by myself.
And the way that I feel.
I am dreaming of the future.
Nothing specifically, though.
I don't know I don't know.
I am putting so much care into social media.
And that always happens when I'm anxious.
Maybe I should cut ties with that.
No one will miss me if I'm overbearing.
I will lose my mystery.
And my social media presence is kind of odd.
I don't know.
I wish I could write away this fearful energy inside of myself.
What is it that I need.
I need youth, and I need alcohol.
I don't know.
I saw pictures of cocaine.
It's funny.
I was looking at what people were liking on Insta.
And it was Lissette.
She liked a picture of a bag of cocaine.
And it's a profile.
That just has pictures of cocaine.
And all the girls are following.
I feel like they started it or something.
They're in love with cocaine.
And it still affects me in Finland!
I've been having so many panic attacks over coke.
I don't think that's necessarily why I'm so nervous now.
But the more I indulge in my mind,
The more this acclimates.
I must escape myself.
Wow I have so much anxiety.
Traveling leaves you to float in your mind,
And I therefore have to write in order to stay present.
It was Saturday night.
They were having a party at Joe's house.
I had been thinking about him since I had spent an evening hanging out with him and the girls.
I guess that I could tell he was into me.
And so that made me think of him.
And so I didn't really acknowledge him for the length of the party.
But that's because we were talking to other people.
The end of the night, he comes up.
And says that he feels like he didn't really get to say hi to me yet.
And I asked him how he's doing.
As he hugged me and lifted me into the air.
He said better now.
And we danced.
And he spun me in and out.
And I'm not good at dancing with men.
I am good at dancing with myself.
Oh, isn't that the case when it comes to anything with me.
He said can I ask you a stupid question.
I knew what he was going to ask.
He asked to kiss me.
I told him yes, but over here.
He didn't hear that,
And watched me run away.
He said, oh okay, Masha.
But I laughed and told him to come here.
He did.
And we collided like we had been waiting to do so.
We're very compatible, the way that we physically move.
I would stop kissing him anytime someone walked by.
And he felt as if I was embarrassed of him.
But I just don't like the publicity.
We went downstairs into this dark hallway.
And it was all so great, I don't know.
He kept telling me I was so amazing at kissing.
I felt the same.
But I couldn't get myself to speak.
And he told me he liked my hips.
I don't really know what it is about them.
No one's talked about them before.
And I asked him if he was sad when I ran away.
He told me he was because he knew this was his only chance to kiss me.
Because he's going on tour the next day.
And I was leaving for Russia.
I told him that I've been thinking about kissing him.
And he told me the same.
I don't know.
I'm glad that I ran away to Europe.
But is this the same situation as with Rob.
Where I'm forgotten before I return.
He'll be at Governor's Ball.
And I hope to see him there.
I'll kiss him again if he lets me. 
Might become bulimic in Russia what choice do I have.
Ah.
The second I open my eyes,
She asks me to come out and buy fruit.
I tell her I need to wake.
So I make coffee for the both of us.
She isn't happy that I already drank coffee before she came home.
She's mad that I ate my cottage cheese and didn't wait to eat with her.
I told her I was trying to wake up.
She says I could have done something to help everyone, instead.
Like what?
She asks me to clear the table, I do.

I think that she just needs her coffee.

17.5.14

I'm addicted to coke. 

13.5.14

Okay it's the first day of summer I've thrown up twice this week gotta stop eating I'm dumb. 

11.5.14

Liza is good at talking. 
She talks with passion so it sounds like she's right. 
Like she knows what she's talking about. 
We only know what we know. 
We don't know everything. 

2.5.14

Also, what I would do to spend some inebriated time with my studio lighting teacher. 
I get really turned off at times by how superficial my friends can be. 

And they start going on their rants with sparkles in their eyes like they're really saying something important, but they're really just talking about everything you need to know when it comes to Instagram aesthetics.