basic folds and bases

There were creases in the folds of her work that would not bend the way they were intended to. Mountain folds collapsed into deep valley folds that sagged under the weight of neglected memories that were meant to be hidden between the flaps of paper crafted to expand and contract with her breath. Inhaling was a task too difficult for her paper-thin lungs to carry out.

Where the carbon in her cells should have met with oxygen in the air and released the meanness accumulated by the cycles of running through her veins, there was only the stagnancy of him. Written into the folds of her skin, the ink from his stories kept her firmly compact, unable to spread the pleat folds of her self to the open air and let it breath through her pores. Memories were the deep-seated anchor that kept her parked at port.

"researching english project"

old favorites.. eeeee!





twee twee twee

more.

second.

((((((((jeweled))))))))

english class.
acrobats.
bristle pine cone
forest.

woke up late.



and got out of town.





drove.

aaah!

i'm supposed to be researching for my term paper and instead i've spent an hour on photobooth, have written all over myself with a sharpie, drank lots and lots of tea, and looked up endless eve videos.

aaaah!

WHAT A FUCKING KID.

Wow. i have full confidence in feeling pretty private on here, so i just want to ventventventventvent. let it oouuuut.

por q necesito frustrarme en tal manera? esque quisiera irme y tambien volver y aveces visitar ese lugar en mi corazon una vez mas, tan solo para saber que todavia esta alli. pero quien sabra mejor que yo? y aun asi, no se. porque vi fotos? porque aun me siento tal? esque estoy peleando contra mi misma y en si veo mi problema. estoy llena de pelea en lugar de resignarme. aveces, pero mejor dicho, casi siempre soy yo la enamorada sin recurso. porque tratar de finjir otro rollo? es sin duda un estupidez tratar de pelear con si mismo.

DRop IT!