If I wanted to have my heart broken, I'd fall in love with you.

see the rest (& more!) on my art journal... eyeseed! feel free to add/watch me :)

Click for larger size on my Flickr page

stab heart #10 is for sale!
in the back there is a mini zine that is all lovey and gushy!
buy it here.

Just browsing my photo shoots...
Hmm... bored.
Going to continue writing my book.
Oh! and I have a photo shoot tomorow too! About umm 1, 2, 3, 4 maybe out 5. Yep! 5.

first:

Untitled from daniela Scrima on Vimeo.

&


you know, if you have 20 minutes

these are a few days late, oh well. better late than never, right?




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i told myself not to cry today..

its 8:53 and im still okay.
Billy still has not text back.

i said i let him go yesterday.
today, i really let him go.

Yesterday Splish Splash and Today Atlantis Marine World with two beautiful children help the tears from saying up in my tearducts.

I guess thats how Moms do it.
They move foward because the kids are so happy and so wonderful and so pure.

You'd be silly to cry about boys infront of them.

just silly.

HEY KIDS.

I would like your Pokemon Friend Codes, and your Animal Crossing City Folk codes as well.

Let's be friendzzzzzzzzzz gah!

♥

2 photos, taken in 2007 @ robert e lee park in baltimore.

x-posted to my journal. add me if u like?

In my parent's house, in my old hometown-- are you sick of that sentence yet? I've taken up to acting just like Bette Davis in Jezebel.

Oh get me out of hereeee or let me stay here forever. Send me the checks in the mail and I'll keep sending you my soul. Don't fret, don't fret.





Dad's out of town let's raise a ruckus mom. Let's pretend this is real life. "In my real life". Because we're dead.

Michael Jackson Helped Develop Merchandise For London Event

From his rented mansion on Carolwood Drive, Michael Jackson sketched out ideas for the merchandise he planned to sell in conjunction with his "This Is It" concert series at London's O2 Arena, including a varsity jacket and a red handbag with a diagonal black stripe that evoked his costumes from the "Thriller" music video.

The May brainstorming session resulted in designs for more than 300 items, including jigsaw puzzles and games for children and rhinestone dog tags. The collection will go on sale as soon as this week at such retailers as Hot Topic, Target, JCPenney and Spencer's.

The sleep masks pictured were Bea's idea, and the she designed the bag they are referring to. She's pretty stoked right now.

( P.S. )

The Dr. Sun Yat Sen Classical Chinese Garden on a bright sunny day.

As if moving wasn't expensive enough, this week one bill after another surprised us.
We have to pay 400 euro's for electricity in our previous apartment. While the usage manager online always said we were paying the righ amount. Another bill was 350 euro's for city tax. 70 euro's moving costs for our internet..
I wonder where they're gonna get the money from. It's not like I have anything left and I sure as hell won't take it out of my savings account in which I put some money apart for my trip to London.

I always have these extremely bad and extremely good weeks. So next week will be different and I WILL get that job!
Next monday we will finally have internet at home so I will show you some pictures of our new place. :)
Now I'm going to enjoy my hot chocolate with whipped cream.

today we visited the wonderful farmer's market in dover!
after that we dropped off a donation to the humane society. they're starting up a new shelter so i put a box at work and a few people donated items. it was so fun to go shopping at the dollar store for the puppies and kitties! we got some free puppy chow (the human kind!) and entered into a raffle because we donated, which i thought was really nice.

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I hang up the phone with my best advice. I say "make it work, if you need to, if you both want to, make it work." I feel like i am giving advice to a younger version of myself. Maybe I am.

I lose the ring. Sometime during the day or at night I lose the ring and even though I don't know it's gone yet, even though I won't realize it until the next morning. And who am I the next morning? That's a good question. He pokes my body in a familiar way. The way you poke a dogs body. The way you wake up a dog when it is sleeping. All my integrity, all my limbs and still I am just another girl in Florida. I am not special. This is a story for blonds, and Randy refuses to apply the dye, this is a story where brunettes are like St.Bernards.

I wonder if they'll find the ring in the grass or months later wedged between the couch cushions. I wonder if he'll keep it in a box or throw it away. "I'm not the kind of person who does those things," he hangs up the phone.

And my fingers-- God, my fingers. How could I have done this to my own hands? My fingers. My fingers. My fingers. I wait for them to break off. I wait for them to break up. I will wash my hands clean of this.

I have mail to send to Oregon. I look at in on a map and it looks like a pretty place. I'm supposed to see Alex there. Alex, I'm supposed to see you there. But what I really want is Paris, Texas.

If I still have fingers. If I still have a tongue to lick a stamp.

Katherine was my favorite out of all of them because she taught us how to Google our drugs. This was before we could google anything-- right at the turn of the century. I was stilling using AOL to do it at all, and I used it with such loyalty. But Katherine was older, over eighteen maybe even over twenty-one but I doubt that. She was older and had a hotmail address and a tongue piercing. She'd say "fuck this shit" and she'd say "hand me a pill" and she'd say "look you don't ever take anyone's word for anything, that's how Cracker fucking died." And no one laughed. You'd think-- or I'd think now looking back that you would want to love because Katherine with a K spelled so poetically as if she'd walked out of Sense and Sensibility had loved a man named "Cracker" and this is how he died.

"Read it to me," she'd demand in a voice that I later on adapted (never giving credit)

"M-Y-L-A-N" I think that's what it says-- I think it's an N, try it"

"There is no 'try it', Daniela, stop sounding so goddamn needy. Put down your cell phone and do not message that boy back.

I listened to her because I thought if I could that it would be like magic. Not like a miracle but like magic. I want you to understand that there was a difference. Like how in the 7th grade we stole all those books from Barnes and Noble the ones about witchcraft or "wicca" and then we cast love spells on all the 7th grade boys and I do not know if they worked. We cast one in the 9th grade too, and sadly it did. But the 7th grade I can't recall, maybe this can be an S.O.S do you still love me Palm Harbor Middle in 1997? Do you still love me at all?

But yes, if I listened to her it would be magic, not a miracle. Not a twenty dollar donation over the phone so some man who was closer than you were to God could say a prayer to God for you and then maybe if you donated another twenty dollars God would listen. Magic. Like how when I was 19 I brought everyone back voo doo dolls from New Orleans and my mom said to me as if they'd work "Oh really" with sadness in her face and how Nick still tells me that I smell like voo doo dolls even though I've explained numerous times that when I gave him his I doused it in Dior Addict perfume-- the only perfume I wear. I also let him cut a piece of my hair off and wrap it around the doll. Nick will love me forever. Really. He may kill me, but it will be with love. It won't be a MIRACLE it will be Magic.

"What are the numbers on the pill"

"It says 3-4-5, kind of in a circle"

Katherine types in "round pill orange 345". I say "I think it's really more of a peach color," she starts crying in front of the computer and I wish her mom would get a cable modem for the house. I want to tell Katherine about DSL but Katherine skillfully gives blow jobs, she is skillfully not shy, she has no idea that there are books for this or that the pill is actually peach color. I know that no matter what it is she will take it. It could be laxative for dogs and she is going to swallow it in front of me.

Once, in another house, with other friends someone worked at a pharmacy and they would get prescription DXM in pill form an we would take it. I didn't bother to Google it and i don't remember if I did or did not know Katherine yet but I took the pills and I watched the whole house turn from side to side. The whole house became slanted and it was so funny. It was so funny that I could have died right there, age fourteen. No one's parents were home. The doctor didn't make house calls.

"So what is it?"

"Valium," she says with a large sigh of relief. Valium. And she swallows. She swallows and lies down on the couch. She tells me that when summer is over she is going to "get the fuck out of this place," and I want to get the fuck out too. I have this light blue Dickies bag that I use instead of a purse. it's small and has velcro and a black strap. The internet is slow and Katerhine's mother is drunk. She is pretty with her name like a novel and I want to tell her. Everyone has just gotten cell phones, we still don't have digital cameras. And I want so desperately to call him. I want so desperately to have my driver's license. I am too scared to swallow Valium, I am too scared to Google drugs.

Years later in a dorm room at Kent State University, I am staring out my window. I am looking at the steps leading to the unfinished May 4th memorial because when I am "this fucked up" I like to go lie there in the snow and think about the massacre. I listen to "Highway 61" for the first time one day in the car and then I listen to it over and over and over again. The boys go to the drugstore-- I wish I could remember what it is-- is it Rite-Aid is it a CVS? Where do they go? Do they go to Giant Eagle? Do they switch it up? Did you switch it up? Tell me now, Terrace Hall, torn down into a parking lot, where'd you steal all those Robutusin cough gells from? They are nothing like the pills that someone stole from the pharmacy and I watch the boys I love take ten pills then sixty and once forty. His heart makes a ticking sound. My eyes go black and I pray to anything htat I will not die this way. That my mother will not get a phone call saying I overdosed on the main ingredient in cough syrup.

I think of the mother of Sandra Lee Scheuer known to her friends and family as "Sandy" and about how she was shot on May 4th 1970 just walking in between classes. How she died within minutes from loss of blood. They made us watch some video during student orientation and in it Sandy's mother says she called the hospital when she heard news of the shooting
and operator asked her daughter's name
"Sandra Lee Scheuer"
and then the operator, or whatever we will call the woman says
"Your daughter was D.O.A"
and the mother asks all panicked just knowing "D.O.A What does that mean?"
And the woman on the other line just says "Dead on arrival".

I see black and remember Katherine and the memorial and how I have always picked up the cell phone but no one calls my mother because I do not die. Someone takes me outside for fresh air and I get to live. Allen takes me outside but I don't like him the best. He is 21 and doesn't have a Driver's License but instead carries a passport. If he remembered me, he'd love me forever too. Miracles. Magic. Type in exactly what you see on the pill.

Katherine died to you know? I bet you knew that before you started reading. She slitted her wrists in a bath tub because she loved a man named "Cracker". Her mother kept chickens in the front yard and left town soon after.

I tell this story just like I told it to you, because a girl younger than me picks up a pill and asks what she is, and me, I'd stick it in my mouth even if it was estrogen, but for the sake of our heart beats and our lives I let her type in the search engine.

I say in a tone that I had forgotten "will you just fucking read the words already?"

I walk into the kitchen and make "green drink" I guzzle it after pilates. I wonder what my body things of me. I wonder how our brains and our bodies have gone on a quarter of a century.

Maybe we are not like Cracker. Maybe we are not like Katherine.

We had already been grown ups, while you were sleeping, while you were watching late night television we had been adults. And now again when we should be sleeping, when we should be watching late night TV we are passing the tooth paste & folding the laundry before bed. He folds it better, I've known to cause wrinkles in fabric.

Do you remember me when we were kids? Did my eyes sparkle differently? When my arms formed bruises did they look better? You say I cry different now, and I wonder if anything if it is more dignified, if it is more solidified. I look toward the sky now when I cry, I look toward the sky like somebody used to look toward heaven. And you tell me I am fleeting-- that I am leaving and I just wish I was already gone. In the fetal position in a bed that is not yours or mine, I wait for all the blonds to make their rounds and I grab my car keys more dignified. I will never pick up that phone again.

I used you & my arms to make the bed & then I tucked myself in & slept alone.
We had already been grown ups, now we had been monsters too.
And that's the thing about this story, I couldn't believe it, I couldn't believe you. I never wanted to write this story like that.

It is almost 4:30 in the morning. This has taken a decade but it's been more of the same and all I really wanted was to say was we grew up, but it's the opposite. I will not write down that we matured. I got better breasts, you got better muscles. You don't gag, I don't swallow. We can do sit ups while we're standing. You know I don't forgive you. You know that I stopped.

This didn't get to be a story about grown ups or men at war or girls who had left to go to big cities because they thought that big cities weren't like small towns. They thought in big cities all men would have fingers. In small towns they just had torsos, in small towns they just had saints.

And what do I have to do to be a liar? Do I need to go West ? Do I need to make your mothers love me more? Do I need to remember that I've spent the better part of my life trying to forget this?

I will count to ten and I will get out of this bed. I will get out of bed with your blond girlfriend in the doorway with my dark hair on the white sheets. She has forgotten: her jeans, her cell phone charger, her hair straightener. I have just forgotten, you, myself & time.

What am I supposed to write in this story? We had already been grown ups. We were so much older then. We were left unattended. You reach for my hands &I'm almost surprised when you grab them, as if I'm waiting for grenades and we're still playing house.

You see, we have already done this in three apartments and two houses and I still get carried away.

when the girls are saying prayers & the men are missing fingers I just know we've done everyone wrong. Not just you, baby. With the bluest eyes I've ever seen. You tell me that they're brown, but I'm the one writing this down. And it's not just you now, it's not a backyard or a backseat or a scary story. It's not a sunburn or first love. It's not true love or our mother's names scrawled like our father's meant it. It's a horror show. It's a slasher flick. I used to be an angel, but now I'm a monster too. I used to believe in torsos, now women just believe in you.

Me? I've been folding this shirt for a decade, I've been phoning 9-1-1 for years. For companionship, for independence. For all those girls that try not to spit when they say my name.


Sent from my iPhone

Photo I took. Any type of feedback is great! Thanks! http://stevedepinophotography.blogspot.com/

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Oh, and check out Marian Kihogo's blog. This bitch is so effortlessly stylish it blows my mind. Brb right click saving every single outfit.

currently my life is being controlled by someone elses money.
what an unfortunate existence I live in.

this will all change in due time.

Panorama 313 by ~bruhinb on deviantART
Tuzigoot Pueblo
Tuzigoot National Monument, AZ

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