emily jones

I had the chance once, but if I remember correctly I chose to roller skate instead. I dont know how I feel about that.

is somewhere

right now

doing something.

vacate or vacation.
dessert or desertion.

*see notebook you will never see

accept what is around you, have it become a part of you.
because it could be a lot more cold than this.
embedded in the crust of your nature, no more than skin deep. you get up in the morning …or afternoon or early evening. but did you wake up? everything is together & ready to be thrown away. kapeesh? …never mind. oh oh oh, the days get shorter if you let the looms over come you. in fact, length is only what you make of it.
im not a baby
maybe sometimes a doll
but i sure will play with you

some words that have been said echo in my head the way memories come & go when senses ebb & flow

I have been told is worth in weight. cross my heart, cross my legs. away with tails, back to using my head.
no time to waste, too tired of everything to rest.

chances ~ changes. good < goodness. less = more.
crisp winds on my cheeks, solid steps in my BOOTS
cut the cookie, type the stereo, pickle the tip
this still means everything to me & it feels good to finally start to get what I want.
this still feels good to me & it means everything to finally start to get what I want.

I just don’t get it. But I guess I don’t have to get it. But I just really don’t get it. I guess this trip did its job. It did make me thankful. Or help me see what I have to be thankful for. That my mother got out of this tiny little hick town when she did. I am happy for my her that she has finally made amends with her parents. At the same time, all the years of distance, when I was oblivious, all the time spent apart makes it all the more painful during our recent visits. Sometimes… well, most of the time I feel like I can’t relate to my own supposed family very much at all. My great grandparents, who are no longer alive, barely even left the country, let alone their house & spent their whole lives in southwest (more south than west) Virginia making biscuits & storing fruit preserves, hiding their money in places all over the house in fear that another Depression would devastate the country. My grandparents have been married more than sixty years. Can I just say wow. They have known each other their whole lives, living down the street from one another. My grandfather can’t hear me but at least he tries, his hearing aid buzzing whenever he chews. He tells stories whenever he gets the chance, which is probably my favorite thing about him. When he was my age during this season, he was docked on a boat in Japan writing letters to my grandmother. She lost her cousin and best friend on her graduation day. People wrecking their trucks & lives, the pies bought not baked, teen pregnancy, the constant gut disclaimer that they do nothing about, the disrespect of race & homosexuality, golf, church. The chit chat… the fucking walls they put up. I can’t stand it. Families are so messed up.  I want it this way. Well I want it this way. Well… about that. What are we going to do? Maybe if you don’t talk all the time you wont say something you wish you didn’t. We take people who we love for granted so much. What is that? Why does she feel like she can talk to him like that? She knows he will never leave her. How could he? After everything that we have been through. What a miniscule hero. Such an overlooked issue that im sure happens to more people than we would believe. There is a lot to be thankful for. There are not a lot of things to be thankful for. Except I am really excited about roller skates I just bought for three dollars. What I would give to be able to spend time with my dad’s side. Go to New Hampshire or New York to visit. Be able to photograph them. Maybe they would understand me. No, I haven’t found hay for my donkey… yet.

dress, address, undress