Evacuate Soul

Sally likes to run relapse around the track at the gym

There’s a shocking amount of comfort in going in circles

In moving constantly and getting nowhere at all

Sally is shirking at solid foods and solid convictions, and gags at either one

Sally sells herself down by the seashore in her daydreams

But in reality she is half-asleep on the bathroom floor trying to [not] make herself sick

Sally swallows electrolytes and lies just to make it through the day and stands

On stilettos and pedestals that the villagers build for her, she is tired of people

Worshipping her body, of sinking their teeth into her like some hard hollow chocolate bunny

Sally is in trouble and incoherent and is trying to practice self-love with her eyes

Closed and her hand between her legs but can only think of how dirty

His fingernails were and Sally watches sad movies because she has taught herself not to cry otherwise

Sally is as white as a polar bear and twice as aggressive

The color has gone out of her face and into her fucking language

It takes a lot for Sally to make puns or to make love now, and that’s probably for the best

December Whatever

I remember looking away
The way I am told to
Do when having blood drawn
It seems an appropriate response
To having something vital being taken
From one's body

No doesn't mean anything
When you weigh 96 pounds
Two ounces of screaming could have stopped it
Or if a door would have been flung open
Anything close to a cry would have made it
What it really was

I spent the entire last summer punching
Every male around me square in the jaw
It was half the drinking problem
And half making up for lost time

Chewing and Spitting

America the beautiful ugly

Habits die hard

A basket case study
In glitter
Glimmer
Glamour
Glutton

Obsession with getting things out
Of her body
Does anyone else think it's funny

This oral fixation or
Obsession with control

Veins
Always already penetrated
By every needle
From a broken record

Player winner loser
Low numbers just like golf
Just like a dance floor
The dizzier the better
She loves that

Feeling, almost near
Fainting
The feeling one gets when falling
In love

Je ne suis pas fatigué, j'ai beaucoup d'énergie

Translation: I'm not tired, I have lots of energy. FALSE. In fact, I feel depleted of any semblance of energy, but I once had a CD called "I Can Learn French: hip-hop edition", and this single line from said CD has been stuck in my head all week. My conscious is one sarcastic son of a bitch. The point is, lately, I hardly dress up anymore. Instead of putting thought into an outfit, and dressing like art, I've been in red plaid flannel and black leggings, and dressing like the hottie sweet-stache'd lumberjack that used to be on the front of the Bounty paper towel package.. And my only accessory? A constant black cup of coffee in a semi-shaky hand. This was perfect, this was my shit, last month when I was in Oregon. I was overjoyed and ecstatic to walk around everyday in skinny sweats and rain boots, with absolutely no makeup. I was on a farm then, and happy as can be. But I mean, I think I only looked in a mirror like, ONCE. (That day I took a long, hot shower). But here, back in Austin, it's all part of it. Part of waking up, getting ready for the day, and running around the city getting things done. But I'm lazy, I'm tired. Je suis fatigué, je n'ai pas d'énergie. I AM tired, I have NO energy. 

I'm generally a hard-worker sweating out at the grindstone. It's a Taurus thing allegedly, but mostly I think it's due to my middle-class, and then awesome single-mom household upbringing. But clothes? Outfits? Dressing up is fun, but that doesn't mean I have to prioritize it at all times. What else is fun? Tennis, and when's the last time I played tennis. EXACTLY. So when I'm grindin at everything else, I look for lazy shortcuts with the way that I dress. I'm not saying anything is wrong with wearing the same leggings everyday, but personally, you guys, I'm starting to get a little #peopleofwalmart over here. 

Here's how to counter that. First of all, heels heels heels. Even when I AM wearing a flannel and leggings (multiple days in a row), adding a pair of high heels always adds more visual value to this outfit. I mean add heels to slummin bum clothes, and really you just look like a celebrity on her day off. Heels just make me feel good, and when you feel good, you look good. I wore shorts and stockings with this plain T-shirt because I really am tired of leggings right now, but leggings would look cute, too. 

Also a word on T-shirts- if there's one thing I fancy, it should be clear by now, that I love shirts that say things. ESPECIALLY when I'm not reeeeally getting dressed. I want to make some joke about these being statement pieces, but that's not even funny to me, and I generally crack myself up. 

Growing up I always remember reading things about how to dress for your body, I.e., how to dress for the parts of your body that you don't love. In retrospect, I intensely wish instead that these articles could have been written about advice about how to LOVE your body, but that's a whole 'nother story. So yeah, I decided to write on how to dress for laziness. How to dress if you're losing your shit during finals, or if you're a busy mom, or if you're one of those people that gets hangovers. (Lucky you, party animal) This is how to dress for fatigue. Also, shirts that say things make it at least look like you put a little bit of thought into it, insofar as you probably at least READ the shirt. At one point in time anyway. Also, I thought this shirt really encapsulated the entire feeling behind this blog. Also, you should love your body. Every part of it. Kay thanks bye. Time for more coffee.

Bags Under my Eyes shirt: Saturday School shopsaturdayschool.com

Black patterned high waisted shorts: Forever 21, you betcha forever21.com