enfin's reality


rise and shine, 6am, paella, camping, sunshine rays,

jumpin’ off docks, oysters on boats, sailin on the high seas,

alpha/beta squad, greek yoghurt, sunbaths, fris, crunching granola,

happy endings, floods, stitches, kayaking to remote islands, co-ops,

taoism, good camraderie, supertramp, are you hot mama?, snuggles,

asshole/president, minigolf, the ocean, tofu, bugbites, sea-legs,

morning swims, g-sesh, zenning out, being sneaky, saving the world,

quarry diving, baby spinach, film, sitting in the middle, maaahlliiiiii,

no baths, beach fires, nighttime stars, chubby bunny/s’mores, MIA,


what better way could i have spent two weeks?

enfin's reality

today has been absolutely wonderful.  regardless of how early i awoke, i’ve had the most pleasant day.  it started with strawberry picking in scarborough- and these berries were so delicious and juicy and mouth watering, it made me want to pick like 80 pints. i got sunkissed and freckled and then i walked up the east end, bought some iced coffee with soy supp, and then began work.  now i’m headed to SPACE to see Ted Leo & The Rx.  So frikin excited.  ecstacy excited.  tomorrow brings adventures with mr sean, and i hope to buy a new nose ring & get it changed- although i’m dreading the pain.  monday i’m with miss lily and hopefully we’ll head to the beach.  on tuesday, miss annie, who i haven’t seen in ages, a trip to salvie’s and higgins is truly in order. and finally, wednesday, miss bela, how i’ve missed the darling.  clothing swap and all that jazz.  i’m planning on getting out of maine on the 29th or 30th, and catchin’ a flight to MSY.  tomorrow is daughter’s day, i’ll be begging for a roundtrip ticket down south, and on thursday, miss m will be back from EUROPE.  it’s almost been an entire year since my father passed away, and i’m feeling it.  i don’t know what to expect on the 28th, but i know that he wouldn’t want me to be sad. his life was short- and as they say, only the good die young.  i’ve been overly emotional the past week- not to mention, girly. i’m not taking to heart my horoscopes, because at this point in time, i don’t know if i trust them.  to do.

-buy b&w film
-buy color film
– short shorts & bathing suit
-beach days
-strawberry picking
-iced coffee
-the eNOh
-finish life of pi
-yard saling
-dinner party
-get dolled up
-grow my hair out
-be realistic
-accept grief
-be pleasant
-take photos
-finish a story
-write some poetry
-go swimming
-see more fireflies
-be sociable
-change nose ring (OUCH)

enfin's reality

mr. charles bukowski

who knew that it would be so difficult to find ham on rye in manuscript form? i didn’t. anyway.

i like dis stuff:

springtime breaks, lemongrass, homegrown and harvested tea, brunch, fancy people dressed in black, haus parties, white wine, tattoos, sunshine on the seashore, driving into rural areas, dense pieces of literature, packing light, the distinct smell of arabica’s french roast, scouring the congo, sleeping with a quilt, open windows, deserted playgrounds, nighttime picnics, worthwhile short stories, oh dad poor dad mama’s hung you in de closet and i’m feelin’ so sad, sending in rolls of film & the wait that accompanies it, shock value, old school rap, gritz and kale, legumes, diana ross, johnny hobo and the freight trains, anarchy, the underside of the iceberg of culture, temps, FSU (as in fuck shit up), bandanas, hula-hoop, little ethel slowly making her way up a small incline, cats, quiet, popping bubblewrap when i should be working, bareback streets, starving artists, crowns of all sorts, bike rides, walking, vintage pieces that fit perfectly, black heels, big earrings, tights, grass, straw hats, matchbooks, bonfires, trips to unknown places, being in company of enjoyable people, putting up a fight, dissin’ the admin, criticism, used book stores, history in print, exchanges en francais, sensations of adrenaline, piercings, grunge, hating hipsters, making a point, the devil’s advocate, word etyomologies, charles bukowski, friedrich nietzsche, swimming in casco bay, music, 70s dance parties, nag champa, greek salads, power yoga, skinny jeans, sundresses, being completely refreshed.

i plan on:

going to chick-fil-A, riding dirty in the dirty south, speaking cambridge english, sunbathing, adventuring, singing, sleeping, saving strays, developing film, writing stories, finishing stories, reading stories, cooking lots and lots of delicious food, beach trips, biking around, arboritum.

enfin's reality, Uncategorized, writing

“can i have you?” caught up in what to say, i said, “you do!”

maybe this is the wine… but maybe its not.  isn’t there some latin phrase that says, through wine comes truth? oh boy. forget regrets, it’s time to get this off my chest and into the open.  i’m a coward and i hide behind words and excuses and personas of all sorts.  i have learned those things in therapy! but yes…. coming back with the lovely tuung and angus and julia stone, i realized love… when you love without desire..love…does not exist…but mediocrity love sure… is that even a word…or a real thing. affection..better word choice there. love without desire. when i ride you home because you’re drunk and its raining and you win. your untouched world….your views our similarities. que..que. ququque.


if i had him i’d do so much. i’d walk to his nook-in-the-wall house in the middle of the night to apologize for whatever drama i caused that day.  i’d take rolls and rolls of film of him and ses companions.  i’d bike baguettes to his doorstep, with books of matches, just incase. i’d listen to everything he would say, and because i’d listen, i’d remember. i’d laugh at his jokes even when i would be sad, i’d hug him until his heart’s content. i’d ask him about his aspirations, about his past, and about his ideals. i’d smile encouraging smiles. i’d say things that i’d regret. i’d have multiple playlists for him and his moods.  i’d go searching for beautiful writing implements with him.  i’d wallpaper his room. i’d find him a stray and name it harriet. i’d write for him. more than i already do. i would cook for him and let him pick the movies we’d watch. i’d know where his freckles are.  like the one on the back of his neck, the lone one that caught my eye when i first saw it.  i’d know how his joints work, how he’d walk. how he slept and how he dreamt. his room would be my haven, and my world would be open to his.  we’d join forces, taking midnight bike rides around the west side, drinking wine and beer in the middle of the summer days.  the wharf would be our park, where we’d picnic, write and photograph. i’d speak my broken foreign languages with him, and he’d respond with his broken languages too. my eyes would be intent on his, and my hands would be reaching towards him. i’d take a daily adventure with him, whether it be to mackworth island, or to a flat surface where backrubs could be donated. i’d give him hope and i’d give him love. it’d all be a secret, every last bit of it though.  when he would be drunk, i would go to him and listen to his rants about his partial insanity, and his hindered dreams. i’d loan him my shoulder and show him my secrets. i’d collect his bits and pieces of poetry and keep them in my pocket.  i’d pack up my bags and find us a fort to live in, somewhere with an herb garden and vegetable garden. diana ross would be our sunday soundtrack, and barathrum’s would be our favorite place to adventure. rules would be broken, but passions emphasize.  we’d run, jump, skip, dance, paint, do, create, initiate whatever which way we’d want.  the clouds would be our bedtime stories. my hates you pin would be my way of saying just the opposite.  dinners in the dark, days under the covers.  no one getting up to turn the vinyl. i’d forgive and forget.  he’d do the same.  later on we’d laugh over cups of mint tea. we’d think that cable has a hex that comes with it.  our newest discoveries in the department of music would be shared via text, or via whisper. affection would be expressed through jabs, through words, through contact. eyes fierce, smoke puffing. one of these days…one of these days.  drives on long stretches of highway, stopping at random fields of wildflowers. history in the making. crazies on the loose. no such thing as fail, no such thing as atrocious. we’d go our ways. we’d remember. being forever…perhaps in the mind, perhaps in reality.  no promises that can’t be fulfilled. no empty hopes or empty dreams. he’d be mine, but he’d be his.  i’d be his, but i’d be mine too. black coffee after a never ending night.  hating when divine days end. sharing each other….rarely. takeout and foreign films. early morning trips to diners and delis. trading literature, in exchange for other literature. stories and words mark our progress. the more we write, the more we are. today doesn’t start until the page says so. lives lived, and lives to be lived. restraints…minded but not. a world to explore…each other to do the same. messages meant to be delivered explicitly, as if to address it to him in the title.

intuition to be heard and trusted. once in a lifetime opportunities to be grasped, days to be seized. company to be shared. lilac bush. in season once a year. in season once a year. then death when winter arrives.  when winter arrives, we begin.  we end when we’re done.  his attempts to end it are countered by mine. nothing happens when we both try. courage built up….maybe later rather than now.  if there’s a will, there’s a way, and there’s certainly a will.  to be, or to be. question him, or me.  love is what i’d give him. love and aspirations. love, aspirations, and a loaned shoulder.  all in exchange for just him. because he…well he’s me. but perhaps not. perhaps i’m him, and he’s me. but we’ll never know. if i could do anything right now…well i suppose it’d be telling him this. telling him my thoughts…my wishes, my wants. but all in good time…all in good time. who knows what that means. all i know is that i’d do a great deal for him. and i’d hope he’d do a great deal for me.

enfin's reality, Uncategorized

zombie blood

first day all week that i have woken up before 7:20am.  thanks to trout.  i stayed awake for quite sometime, close to one but all for good cause! i made a big dent in the story that i’ve been working on for quite some time.  i’m hoping to finish it today! riding bike, taking photos, surviving hell. simple to do list. maybe even nap. who knows what today will bring.  let’s just hope good stuff, because i had another nightmare last night.

i was in my grandmother’s herb garden, picking basil for her, along with bok choy (why it was in an herb garden, i don’t know) and she was going to make me something tasty.  when i got inside and passed by the vegetable (grandfather on couch) and the dogs, i found my grandmother sobbing on the floor.  i turned around because i felt uncomfortable seeing her cry and when i looked back at her she was dead.  is this the anxiety my therapist was talking about? i’m getting really excited to get my tattoo in Quebec! i also have decided, officially that i’d like another stud in my nose.

we’ll see how long it takes me to make enough cash to pay back loans, pay for the ink sesh, and piercing comes last.

im feeling: happy! also i’m feelin’ like my story will appear!