Freewrite Entries Week 2

Entry 1:
Walking to Townsend after ENGL 4109 saved in my cell phone: Sounds of horror on a night like this the wet grass to quick sand to swallow my baby body… am I the final girl, redeemed? A new virgin born of necessity survival as my soul breath (ruah, ruah) drops of rain like gun shots street lights like dim burning candles whispering to me telling me to run like hell. I saw regan last night, or puzuzu, I can’t keep them straight anymore, the girl from the demon, they’re the same to me, in me we’re the same. the shadows tease me and tell me to watch out because the boogie man is still real, like the angel that was in my parents bed during that thunderstorm in the third grade. Do you remember that?! We always remember but nobody believes us. She was older than me like she still is now of course, brunette but we have the same eyes… same parents too of course, but the same face, same big ole teeth, same memory of that angel with the gold hair in the middle of that bed they never shared and I always slept in until barbies got old and so did i… why am I so scared? It’s all the same hallucination, regan and the angel are the same because they are as real as the beers that conceived me and made us look the same and laugh at anything with cats on it. Mama said he got in some fight and his face was bleeding when she woke up, a fight probably my fault (don’t raise your cat to be gay) so he was laying in the middle of her sheets pathetic as can be just like me for way too long. I locked my car right after shutting the door and its okay you know, this is all okay.

Entry 2:
It’s like I take in a breath and suddenly the whole world is breathing with me and I hold my breath to pause but she breathes with me and I’m scared. I’ll never be able to tell you how this feels. I’m on this plane, you see? I stare at the tree bark until it becomes my skin and it wrinkles and cracks like me when I’m laughing and when I am old. In my hand the skin hardens so can we know how she feels? The whole earth breathes with me and we laugh to shake the leaves in each tree and the birds mock the passersby because they cant hear her laughter. Can’t you see, this is no metaphor but my whole body… we pulse and hurt and it’s a lot of pressure to understand her.

Both of these are kind of just prosey nonsense pieces from my reg journal and notes saved in my cell phone... Also, I dyed my hair blue today. Just sayin'.