I've left fingerprints on my desk from newsprint, orange peels curled by last week's herald. I would hate to go to a psychiatrist in twenty years and have them say you wear her nail polish? well, that explains the compulsive tendencies. and the writing.


yesterday was cold and beautiful and absolutely terrible. I found five dollars on the sidewalk and missed my train, I sang christmas carols until people came and I sat thinking of all the places I'd rather be. home. at school. with you. mostly the latter but I wasn't taking my chances with high expectations. (the five dollar bill had the initials A.H.P. written in the top left corner, with pink indelible. I gave it to the woman with soft brown eyes.)

when I came home the lights were on and it smelled like cinnamon.

chels is more like me everytime I go back, it's scary and hilarious. we laugh and roll our eyes and tell the same lies to mom. unbelievable I tell her, unbelievable.

after dinner I walked back alone and thought about all the things I could try to forget, the conversations in my head. punishment, jealousy? we all have our vices. I had a dream you called from saks and I didn't care at all.


ash @ 1:13 AM