in case you we're wondering depression is the fucking worst.

just for a second
everything feels fine
but then life goes back to feeling
i'm drowning
fighting the tide
salty water
my throat burning.

fragments

I used to carry around a little notebook with me wherever I went so when I thought of something to write I could just whip out the notebook and write it down. wherever whenever. But now sometimes I don't even carry a purse when I go out, not to mention a notebook that I'm afraid I'll lose somewhere. I've started writing using my cell phone, which I always have and is usually already in my hand. I don't use a special app I just send text messages to myself and then delete them when I put my writings somewhere else. I keep forgetting to put these mini poems/little story wannabes somewhere else and now my phone is running out of memory. So here are a bunch of my little cell phone fragments of stories to come.

sent jun 9: "I swear to God, Gina we are not going to die damn it"

sent jul 9: "You know if your parents didn't love you, you'd totally be homeless right now"

sent aug 7: "We found each other because of a magnetic pull. our bodies drawn to each other for survival for love. out of necessity friendships formed. and i call you my sister. I hug you through our bonds that won't be broken and I press my face to yours and through tears and smiles i say girl we made it we made it" (sidebar this is absolute shit omg)

sent aug 7: "picture this: cold/dark/late afternoon/hazy december. i'm in your broken down rusty honda, passenger seat. the heat is on. it's hot. there's sweat forming on the base of your neck. i take off my scarf/unbutton my coat. smile at me/ hold my hand next to the shift stick. i'm looking out the window at skyscrapers turning into factories into trees. take me into the woods. this isn't right. i watch a lot of lifetime movies and baby i trust you but baby don't kill me. baby don't kill me in this car on this december afternoon in this too hot car in this goddamn state in these woods. i don't even get cell service out here. baby it's so hot in this car and i can't breathe. i roll down the window/that blasting loud rush of highway air rolls in. you look at me and smile and hold my hand harder look up at my face and kiss my cheek. what's wrong? nothing its just hot in here and i'm tired."

sent aug 12: "She doesn't look like the type of girl that ate 7/11 chilli cheese dogs on the side of the road waiting for a metro bus, but there she was."

sent sept 14: "Have you ever been on the verge of tears on an uptown D train? Partly allergies, part melancholy from disappointment: a night out that never really made it out. I don't know why I feel like crying but I think there's something romantic about crying on the sidewalk of a busy NYC street. or on a packed local train during rush hour. Anonymous pain on display for hundreds of passers by. validating your feelings for the world, with the world."