you always struck me as the type to take it lightly.

I’m moving slowly. Lots of things are happening and I feel slightly behind this morning. Not too bad, but atleast an hour behind. That’s okay. I re-read my paperjournal, which is almost at it’s end. I was amazed. I’ve seen so much growth in myself & especially my writing. It’s getting clearer. Smoother and nicer to the touch. I can feel and hear and touch my words, not as what I’m describing per-se, but in their own way. They taste creamy like soymilk and turkish royals. Sometimes like soynog & whiskey. But always good and tastey to the tongue. I’m excited to put all of this bouncing around in my head down in a way that tastes really good like that, because hopefully other people will understand the soynogg/whiskey or soymilk taste. Everyone should like that shit anyway. It’s recognizable as my own, not as someone elses. I claim it as my own, because, for the first time, I really think it’s worth a damn. And it will just get better.

Self absorbed, for the moment.

I think people should know their zodiac sign, of course, and all about it, but also, their chinese horoscope. I’m a snake. From wikipedia:

The person born in the year of snake is the wisest and most enchanting of all. He or she can become an Ambassador, a Mediator or a talented musician. Such a person is a thinker who also likes to live well; affluence. The snake-person loves books, music, clothes, fine food and wine; but with all their fondness for the finer things in life, their innate grace and elegance gives them a dislike for frivolities, small minds and foolish talk.

Some Snakes may have a slow or lazy way of speaking but this does not reflect in any way their speed of deduction or action. It’s just that they like to ponder things, to assess and formulate their views properly. Generally speaking, Snakes tend to be very careful about what they say.

Snake-persons like communicating and like interesting and challenging conversations; if the conversation becomes repetitive their attention may soon wander. It is almost impossible to fix their attention for long talking about mundane everyday habits as they prefer to focus on new, interesting and evolutionary ideas in general. The snake needs mental exercise in a conversation or relationship.

In his relationships with others, he is possessive, and very demanding. And yet at the same time, he views his associates with a certain distrust. He will never forgive anyone who breaks a promise. He is also prone to being neurotic, even paranoid, where his pet fears and suspicions are concerned.

These people have a special talent that enables them to judge situations correctly. They are alert to new possibilities: when they have an idea of what to do and how to do it, they will pursue it persistently and energetically. The snake is at home in any social situation, able to adapt and converse on all levels. In Chinese astrology it is believed that they are self-confident, driven, focused and willing to listen to someone else’s opinion, but don’t necessarily take it ‘on board’. Refusing to listen to constructive advice; intelligent and headstrong. He treasures his privacy and will have many a dark secret locked up within him.

Although it is difficult for such people to take advice, they are patient and compassionate with others when it comes to giving a helping hand, and their ability to look at a problem from a variety of angles is extremely useful. When faced with a dilemma, snake people, as a rule, act with speed and conviction, since they believe intensely in what they are doing and rarely waste time or energy on projects lacking in good potential.

Ridiculous, huh?

So, let me charm you into some sick deviant shit.

 

<3

suck my left one.

I want to write about something fantastical, something “bloggish”, something appropriate. It doesn’t matter. I want to write about hanging out with The Dresden Dolls, about being home alone all day, about Denver parties and downtown PBR fests at Kingdom of Doom. I want to write about seeing stars, about smoking pot, about running around with no shoes. I want to write about my life, in a way that isn’t trite, or selfish, or whatever.

 

I want to write about seeing Delfino, that wanderer.

But I have nothing to say.

 

 

 

The Dresden Dolls – The Ogden Theatre, Denver, CO May 27th, 2008

i’m poor, so the whole world belongs to me.

Ah, it’s finally happened. I’ve lost it, really. I’m out here dumpster diving with Danzig before we go check out this new apartment. I’ve ruined his life, It really is my fault that we are in this mess, in such a mess that I can’t even begin to see the way out. But its okay, because I refuse to feel like shit because of this. Even though I do. But, I’m hopeful. I talked to my mom yesterday and told her, you know, I hate you, for not being able to help me, like Thomas’ parents or Casseys parents or whoevers parents, my mom is being evicted, asking ME for money, trying to push my sisters off on me, because she can’t take care of them. It’s so depressing, but then again, whatever mess I get myself into, I have to get out, because no one has ever been, or will ever be, there to help me, which is kind of empowering. Ditto with Danzig. No one ever will or can help him, so whatever we need help with, we have to do ourselves. Realizing that you are completly alone in the world is somewhat relieving. I have no false pretenses now.

 

The world is not made for people like me. Thats okay. As Jack Kerouac says,

I am poor, so the whole world belongs to me. – Visions of Cody

And it’s true. We have no food so I’m dumpster diving. I rip off pay phones and free samples.

 

The whole world is mine for the taking.

little sister, can’t you find some other way?

I’m feeling very strange. I’m kind of sex hungry and prowling downtown, trying to fix something. My job, which is causing me stress and nightmares and flash backs. I was thinking, about men. Men and all the weird relationships we have with them. Thinking about seducing one off the street. Thinking about getting drunk off someone elses dollar and attraction. I just feel so weiiiird. I want to get out of here. I want to..oh my god. Delfino’s back. Delfino is only streets away. Oh, men and the weird obsession I have with them. I want to go to Paris on the Platte and smoke my cigarettes coyly and get one of them between my legs and sweaty. I was thinking, how long am I honestly going to be with Danzig? Can I see myself far down the line with him? No, and honestly I can’t. My sexuality is still up in the air but that doesn’t matter. I want a witch. I feel so powerful in my body and the energy I have, I want someone who will channel that with me, and that may or may not be a woman. Danzig said to me, once in a rage, I believe you are a psychic, and psychics are naturally gay, to relate to everyone on that level. I don’t know. Delfino being back in town is terrifyinglyyyy exciting. Oh god, can I just kiss him again? Oh jasmine, shut up this is all bullshit. No it’s not. I care about this person IMMENSLY. I don’t know. Everything is so strange. I was just thinking of him today, walking down the street. I’d put on my skinny jeans and wear ALL BLACK and dark eye makeup. Oh holy shit, if I could see him before Danzig got back!!! Oh jasmine, you devious. And cruel, if what you are thinking of you are actually going to do. I don’t care. I want something, and oh, Leo! Jesus I had so much I wanted to say but now that’s all gone out the window because there in my inbox is “hi baby. i’m home. how can i find you? delfino.” And then, I’m lost. I’ve lost my head. He wasn’t even that mindblowing as a lover, but as an equal to the power I have to give. Ah, to see that arrogant swagger again! That seductive lion look he gives when he doesn’t like what I’m doing but doesn’t dare say a word. Jesus. This is so awful. I need to see him today. Right now. I’m going to go back to my mom’s house and do some more online shit because the library is closing and hopefully meet him for something. I don’t know. Anything. A lick on the lips and a grip on my hips.

I’m on fire.

destroy everything you touch

I’m somewhat all over the place. But not because everything is exactly as it should be, and I’m not a glass half full person, my glass is full of booze all the time. I don’t give a monkey’s what you think about me. Today started out kind of rough. Thomas was mad at me because I used his phone this morning to call Tigerbeat. I forgot about his non long distance and talked until the phone died. I needed it. I miss him, terribly. I put my emotions for him out on Craig Ferguson, because atleast I can hear and see that man every night, where as not with Tigerbeat. I don’t know what it is, but I call him and not a second has passed between us.

“Wassuppp Girl, whatchu doin’?” New Orleans accent with all that French charm behind it. I hate him. And love. I don’t know what the fuck. So we talked. Rabelais & CSS & New Orleans in the spring time and [insert my secret obsession here that no one knows about because my punk cred would never hold up]. I left soon after and went to work. We went to Littleton and I met the most amazing woman. Her name was Stevie. She came to the door with 75 year old wrinkles and long curled fingernails, gripping her long thin cowboy killer cigarette. I spilled my RAP and then she said, girl, get inside. The next 15 minutes were probably the best I’ve ever had “on the job.” I mean, old people teach you tons of shit. I need more of them in my life. She said,

“Girl, everyone thinks that when they are your age, that the world has gone to shit, excuse my french. But, imagine how it was during the Plague! You can’t get much worse than millions of people dying the world over from the same thing. But we got through it, didn’t we? You little ones can get through that. Here, have a cigarette.”

And for some reason, I was telling this woman everything. Love life, fear, confusion. Terror. And she was just handing me cigarettes and tea and giving me such wisdom. I felt stronger as a woman when I left. “Remeber this, Jazzimine baby, a woman never knows how strong she is until she is in the fire. Eleanor Roosevelt said that. Keep it with you.”

I couldn’t work after that. I walked down the street and went into a dry cleaners and called my manager and said I was going home. I was crying, hysterically. The man who ran the dry cleaning place was a dark man, short, a black man with blue blue eyes. I stared, they were real as I was. He was very zealous religious, but he was saying things that in my secret heart of hearts I believed.

“Baby girl, you are lighter than me, your life will be easier than mine, but it won’t be better, until you get that pure heart of yours out of your chest and share it with the world.” He grabbed my hand.

“You are in the wrong line of work. I would say go work for Barack Obama, but you know that man will be elected, and serve for at most 2 years, and some white bread chicken shit motherfucker will take him away. You know it.”

And I do. In my heart of hearts, most of what he said rang true. I got on the lightrail in Littleton and started the trek home. I wrote. I wrote and wrote, which I haven’t been able to do since working there. I looked up. Broadway. I decided to go downtown. I walked to Aza’s Kingdom of Doom, and there he is, drunk and ambling out, CHUCK P is tonight! I don’t catch up to him, he’s on his bike, I’m on foot. I shove my way into the event. It was probably the best fucking author event I’ve ever been to. Reading short stories, throwing out blow up sex dolls, ahh, it was great. I found Aza and he walked me to the light rail. I was feeling high, I got a pair of anal beads for everyone!! And a little stuffed dog with Chuck P’s signature. That’s right. I have the man’s signature and anal beads. Not used, of course. I went back to my Moms house because I couldn’t handle angry Thomas. We talked and I watched my Craig Ferguson and now everyone is sleeping and I’m awake because…

I don’t know or care.

Maria makes my heart sing:

she is a goddess.

obligatory

required “information”/basics post.
aries girl, proud of it.
aspiring author, doula, sex master.
just kidding about the last one.
no, not really.
i’m literate, i’m young, i’m pretty, i’m powerful, i’m motivated.
hell hath no fury like a bad girl scorned.