With Love~ oooo ooo aahh aaaah!

A~ "Sis, I broke my ankle last night. I stepped wrong on the driveway and then there was the monkey grass and my ankle just folded over. I have surgery tomorrow morning."

me~ You broke your ankle on monkey grass?

A~ "Twice. or in 2 places. whatevs."

me~ Seriously. Monkey Grass!?

A~ ...

me~ (laughing uncontrollably)

A~ "Bitch. Just pick me up at 8 am ok?"

me~ OK.


I have the most interesting friends. And if you actually knew them you would know they are the most awesome too.

Monkey grass. I can't wait to sign that cast.

Heaven Waits

I am a manuscript.
I am not a costume.
I am cinematography.
I am not a story.
I am light.
I am darkness.
I am nothing.
I am everything.
I am script.

I am flesh.
We are the same.

Fuck.

What do you do with a brain that chooses to walk down the proverbial middle of the road? You create art in terms of the logic behind it, while knowing that your efforts are devoid of logic.

You feel disappointment more profoundly than any joy, and yet you feel every joy more profoundly than any disappointment.

Your circle of aquaintances could fill the vacuum of space while your circle of friends would simply fill a thimble.

More lost than I have ever felt, yet more found than I have ever been.

(*edited January 09. It has been a long road to come back and read this. I started this blog at a transitional and extremely difficult point in my life where I could hide because I needed to. Hindsight being what it is, this right here? It is right where I belong. My name is Julianna. What's yours?)