Dumpling Covered Pooh Bears

I've been having these weird dreams about random things, such as, secret police investigating my house, weird bridges that look Disney-esque, an Armenian investigator hassling my dad about a dent on his car, me telling my mother about the secret police in Farsi, my cousins' hanging out with Blake, Water-Buffalo's eating meat underwater, and a million other random pieces of information.

This house gets colder everyday. I'm at a phase where I just want to escape from everything, weather it be people, work, school, or Arcata. I just want to go somewhere magical. Unworldly places where I am not hungry or tired or sick or taking pills for my health. Maybe I just want to be in dreams all the time without a constant reminder that I am a conscience being on Earth.

The day I got really sick, I went to La Dolce Video and got two great Pedro Almodovar movies. Both are from the 80's, one is called "Dark Habits" and the other "What Have I Done to Deserve This?" I got them so I could practice Spanish and because Pedro Almodovar is one of my favorite directors. They are equally bizarre and humorous. Not only are they weird, but the music is so fucking good. I think I've fallen in love with Spanish classics.

Yesterday my dad calls me, while he was protesting in Beverly Hills because the Armenian president was meeting with the Turkish president to talk about their closed boarders.The Turks are still denying the genocide and want to negotiate some sort of deal to open their relations. Anyway, fuck Turks and Muslims or any religion at that matter. But my dad calls me, there is some commotion in the background, he tells me about the protest, then he chants something in Armenian, then all these people chant what he said.It was weird.It feels good that the old man still has it in him to be active in his beliefs. I was just a little worried because I didn't want him to get hurt, but that was just me being high and paranoid.

" I think that i preferred to put myself in serious danger rather than confront my shame.My shame at not having become someone, the shame of not having made my parents proud after all the sacrifices they had made for me. The shame of having become a mediocre nihilist." - Marjane Satrapi

I feel you, my fellow Iranian sista.

Before I start this post I just wanted to say that Mew changed my life once more. SF was much better this time around.

As a child I only knew of being Persian trough my parents, and summer vacations to Germany to meet my mom's sisters and brother. Only once have I seen my mothers grandparents, the only living grandparents I have. They are beautiful, intelligent people. We have been separated by the burdens of an Islamic regime that took Iranian identity, our kindness and our community. They effect of my parents departing the place they once called home and paradise has been my blindness. I don't know what it feels like walking down the streets of Tehran or the house my father grew up in or the house my mother grew up in. The closeness of family has been separated into western ways and western cultures. I'm a product of everything I come to disagree with or just simply hate.
I started reading Persepolis in the beginning of the semester for myself. This graphic novel has definitely effected me in a way I can not explain. I wish I was not living here. I wish I could see my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins whenever I please. I wish I was eating Persian food.I wish I could smell the Jasmin in my grandmothers garden.

Persepolis is basically my bummer as a graphic novel.

As for my life at this moment. I am typing this in the computer lab. Surrounded by smelly hippies, wishing I could give my mom a huge hug for being the coolest Persian lady I know. And reminding me where I came from.

FML

I feel like two more weeks in Los Angeles is going to drive me crazy or give me a new addiction. I've spent most of my days on drugs. I gained a bunch of weight and seen everyone that I've promised to see. I want to go back in my room, and my sanctuary that has been taken over by God knows who or what. At this point I'm missing my house all together. It would be nice to start picking at the guitar and learning. I want to start my work out routine and start cooking at the house. I just want to be in Arcata.

The only fucked up thing about all this is my ticket to leave LA is on the 23rd. I wish I would have set it sooner.

I have been playing a lot of PS3. Smoking weed and drinking beer every night. It's been good and relaxing. I'm going to take pictures of Rudy's band at the Whiskey tonight. That will be weird and fun. I guess. I have beer to keep me company. I wonder what life would have been if I had stayed in Humboldt. I'm off to the pool. The valley is raining fire as my dad likes to say.

It was my birthday a couple of days ago. I was stuck in Jersey, depressed and wishing I was in California, but I had a good dinner with the Thomas family. I have no more money. I have to call the family for a hundred bucks before I leave on Friday. This has been a great trip and it only re-enforces that California is the only place for me. New York was great, but it's really crowded and the humidity was terrible. All I want to do is to be in L.A. where I could hang at home and smoke weed with friends and see Shai Hulud. People in Jersey are the ugliest creatures I have seen in a long time. Even Kentucky had cute boys and girls. So yeah, I also can't wait to see JT play a bunch of shows and be backstage. I love you, family and friends.

I woke up early today to use the internet in the health food store in Kentucky. I hadn't been online for a while now which is okay, but I don't understand how some places still don't have Wi-Fi. I'm glad Kentucky is almost over with, but it has been relaxing. It's what I needed after eating, drinking, and tripping in Chicago. I just want to spend some more time with the family before I head out to Humboldt. Also, I want to get more tattoos from my cousins artist. That's why I might leave the end of July. My birthday is coming up soon, the big two-four. It was my dads birthday yesterday and the guy is 62 now. I really love that guy. Besides that, Mew was amazing. I had a dream that we were going to see them again. We also saw Copeland in Kentucky the other night and that was good too. I don't know. I haven't been smoking weed at all and I miss it. This trip has made me realize that I love California. See you Californias soon...i'm hoping.

I can't believe I use to live here.

My whole semester has been shitty. From losing a boy that was really in love with me, to having several bosses be the biggest dicks imaginable, to having the crappiest professors teach subjects that are suppose to be fun and engaging. My dilemma comes from having a final photo shoot interfering with the GWIPPI and to top the shit ice cream sandwich is that I am scheduled to work on the day I need to do all this. My asshole boss didn't approve my time off request because he is always on pills and half-asses request all the time.
I miss my fucking family, the pollution in L.A., and hot straight boys that make out with me. I just want to fucking get it over with. Maybe I just don't want to give a fuck and not go to work and tell them I no longer can work for them. But what am I going to do for money? I don't know how some people survive without jobs in this town.
For anyone who wants to move to Humboldt County...DONT! Stay away from this shitty place. Maybe I will always be an L.A. kid, and maybe that's where I need to live.

So I guess it all boils down to this Saturday.

i'll never be in love with life.

I have this weird "ignore all things internet besides school work and porn"- kick, so sorry for being a bad blogger of emotions and such.

Well, being out of the self-righteous hippy house is great! I got a cool, yet very cold room that I frequently hibernate in, and living with the jon tom couldn't be better. School is getting hard and work is not making it any easier, so i wrote a letter to Kyle about lowering my hours. I wrote it on a light pink paper out of my journal. It has a cute layout on the top left corner of a punk girl turned to her back smoking a cigarette.
My classes are so fucking lame. I can't wait to be over with this journalism bullshit and just move to Spain. I want to be a better writer and thinker. I feel like the only person that gets that out of me is Daniel, since he is a writer and a guy who just doesn't give a fuck. It's great to know that an former inmate can have so much knowledge without an education, just some self-taught shit you only get in prison.
As for my life outside of school and home, I've developed a liking to Dirty Shirley, probably the gayest cocktail known to man...maybe not. The Alibi is one of my favorite places in Arcata now, which is kinda depressing.
Fuck school and fuck mass law and editing and fucking life. ok. good nite.

I am ruled by the Sun and he was ruled by Pluto. It would have never worked. Namaste.

I woke you this morning in my comfortable dead-hooker-blood-stain bed and decided to clean the shit out of the house. Take down the useless hammock from a useless owner...*ahem...kate fox*. Cleaned the stoop, cleaned the kitchen and bathroom. I just went to town. I organized under the sinks of both the kitchen and bathroom. There wasd a family of huge slugs living under the sink. Joey, our recent roommate, helped me out and the same concern for the dirty ass situation. It's good to know someone else is disliking the situation and saying something about it. I got to know him better and seems like he is going to be a great roomie. We want to throw a "Kick The Transients Out Kegger". Sierah helped out with some of the shit. We decided to put the transient girls shit in a box cause we decided to give her the big fuck you boot out of la casa...fuck yeah brother. The transient girl ask Sierah if she had a pregnancy test and if she could use her computer afterwards. Fuck. I seriously could say that Mary Ellen is the queen of destruction and....stds. I have good fortunes for the coming weeks. I hope.

Just downloaded Dert's mixtape of Bjork Inspired beats. They are fat.

It has been a restless, long, lonely three nights since I've been back to Humboldt. My arrival was greeted by a beautiful comforting sun and a cute punk rock girl that picked me up. Our burn cruise in Trinidad made me realized how much I missed the scenery of trees, ocean, and unfamiliar birds. But it has been a nostalgic three days.
Arriving to my house was the worst. The living room was a den for Dirty-Pac's nasty friends, the kitchen was a layer of mold and a bathroom dirtier than a bathroom found in a crack house in East L.A. My plans to live in Mario's quaint home went down the drain after a phone call and now I'm here in this unstable house where my future rests.
I guess I'll have to make the best of it.

Los Angeles was good to me this winter break. I spent the days sucking in television and spending time with family and people I hadn't seen. I miss everyone back home. I don't know what else to say about L.A. only that I miss my family and friends.
I still think L.A. is a raw motherfucking bitch.

So my life has turned to poop once more.

1) I have a tooth infection

2) Wamu has continually raped me of 300 dollars from overdraft charges which is my fault to an extent, but seriously. Fucking corporate money hungry fucks.

3) My relationship with the only person that I have been closest too and came to love is finally drowned in a sea of lies, bullshit and more lies. This town is so fucking small that every fag knows every fag and they talk and talk and talk. I need out of this place.

4) A part of me wants to be in LA and a part of me doesn't. We'll find out how this Christmas break goes.
and as for people..well they always dissapoint me and make me contemplate Death...a lot.


FUCK LIFE...I just want to sleep and dream forever and ever and not be bound to this piece of shit human race. This world is so beautiful yet people just make it so fucking lame. Yin and yang of this dumb dimension.

Happy Holy Daze, Leo! If I could give you one gift for the holidays, it might be a magic object to add to your love altar -- something like a pomegranate resting on red velvet, or a golden heart-shaped magnet, or Pablo Neruda's book 100 Love Sonnets. What? You don't have a love altar? Well then please begin creating one as soon as possible, and continue building it throughout 2009. For the next 12 months, the time will be right to get smarter, wilder, and kinder in your approach to creating intimate connection.

THIS IS WHERE I AM AT IN MY LIFE.

They were so young and Mod. I can't fathom how much cocaine these guys have done.

...and time is a love and I'm caught in her stare."

It has been the hardest six days of my life and they say it gets better, but does it really? This house and people and things are making me sad once more. Nobody will really know who Matt was in my life or what he was feeling at the time. But deep inside I know we were meant to be with each other in parallel dimensions. We both were terrible to each other. Lying and not being honest with our emotions or our intentions. It turned into this fucked up parasitic relationship. Yesterday, after work (I fucking hate you wildberries), I was faced with the "final meeting".He is a very articulate guy and everything he was saying was valid and honest to a degree, yet dramatic and unpleasant to hear. I wish shit were different, but I know I will always love him. Like many things that give me perceptive in life nothing has been offering more moral support then Copeland's album You Are My Sunshine. It's surprisingly keeping me a bit stable. The whole album reminds me of a "it fucking sucks and the world is sooo fucked up, but so beautiful and sweet so just hang on, buddy, you'll be fine I swear when you die it's going to make sense, trust me"-feel. Yet, I can't come to grips on losing my counter part. I also have to think the possibilities that are out there for me. Maybe one day we can pass this bullshit and get back and take on a new route. All I know at this moment is I am here writing, waiting, and trying to paint a beautiful portrait on this empty canvas of life. And if the portrait comes out shitty then I'll laugh drink and smoke some more and try to make something good out of shit. I miss being at home with him and having great meals listening to metal while he paints. Doing things with an awesome person who some couldn't adjust or recognize the way I knew and felt about Matty.

There seems to be a transient couple slumbering on my stoop and couch. There are two of them. A hippie girl and an Indian looking fellow from Fiji. They smoke a lot of pot and have random grow books. She is a short white girl that looks like shes 12-years-old, but might be 30. I didn't catch her name nor do I care. The guy is weird and resembles a rat. He has dark brown punjab skin with shitty gold studs you find in a Ralph's mini-vending machine with random stickers of christ and the virgin mary. He constantly wears a blue XL shirt with a zip up hoody with nasty stains. He always comes to Wildberries and eats soup like a rat and starts licking his fingers like a rat and picks his beard and walks away...like a rat. Mary, of course, found them somewhere to check out here room while she is away getting railed somewhere in South America. Oh yeah, and dancing...sometimes.

She started sleeping on the stoop, then she gradually slept on the couch. The smell of eggs and the weird hippie porridge in the morning reminds me there is a random in the house. Fucking Namaste, brah.

Anyway, I fucking hate my life and can't wait to poop it out when I start The Master Cleans after Thanksgiving. My system needs a re-boot.

I was thinking about pooping and having to be in this room where it connects to the dinning area where people consume food. We have weird connecting doors in this house.