xoxo, nico

one plus one equals company but its always one less than a crowd and an automobile never has a fifth wheel. its like we seem to have to make it even in order to achieve some so called balance that doesn’t even exist. an eye for an eye or a tooth for a tooth and an i would show you yours if you could show me mine. more often than not stories will not add up and just because you decided you had enough doesn’t mean you’re the one who lost. i always forget to factor in important things and my end result is an equation that i can’t even believe. sometimes digits aren’t always what they seem.

my rock star brother’s flavor of the week rescued a puppy about a month ago and she randomly named it nico. i met her and i actually liked her because she doesn’t give a shit if i do or not so we got along. when we were kids mango and me used to fight like cats and dogs. supposedly i chased him around the house with a butcher knife one time while i was babysitting but i don’t remember this so it obviously did not happen. one time he threw a pencil at me from across the room and i was convinced he gave me lead poisoning because it stuck in my chest like an arrow head. the point of it is still under the surface of my skin but no matter what we’ve ever done i am the luckiest person because i get to share blood with him.

this picture was taken at the beginning of our quarter life crisis. i was living in boston and i rented a car to meet her at laguardia. at this point we’ve known each other for thirteen years, i love her dearly and she’s still as weird as she was when we went through our teen years. i could count on one hand all the people i kept in touch with from high school and no matter what state we’re living in we always manage to come visit. ironically on the day i flew home to surprise my mum i got an invitation to go a party at the home of my first love and an accomplice of ours.

once upon a time sweet caroline came over to spend the night on a school night. my parents were in las vegas so in order to get around my grandma we had to sneak out the laundry room window. the first time we tried it we got caught. when we knew she was asleep i turned off the alarm and we walked out the door, down the block to my first love’s piece of shit car with no muffler. hours later carrie’s dealer boyfriend gets a page from her mom. by the time dawn came we decided we were going to skip the first half of the day and go in at lunch but that turned into camping out in barns and showers together for the next three. everyone thought we ran away. the cops were searching for us within the first twelve hours, the principle tracking down work sites, questioning friends, and my parents caught the next flight out of sin city. we had to escape out the back door of a house and hop over fences and graves to get in the backseat of our accomplice’s mustang because carrie’s dad had staked out the place. he saw us flea and we ended up in a high speed chase down dirt roads but he couldn’t keep up because our driver believed he was speed racer.

now back at home the driver and my first love are living happily never after ironically sharing an apartment together. a few years ago the doctor’s told carrie that she would never have children so she said fuck birth control and being careful. she was always the one who wanted to have a bunch of babies. one night we went to mcdonalds after vicodin cocktails and she dumped her diet coke out the passenger window so she’d have something to throw up in before we even left the drive thu. two days later she called and said she had a bun in the oven. eighteen months ago she gave birth to a beautiful boy named evan and i flew to manhattan.

i took a trip and my pops dropped me off with a souvenir to smuggle through security. the duke and i split the stem and the cap and ate it with raspberry stoli then went to pete’s candy store where we secluded ourselves in a dark corner. we didn’t take alot and i originally anticipated the magic not to be so strong but it wasn’t long before my legs started to weigh me down. the duke looked at me with his palms on the table dead serious and said he’s peaking. i’m like bullshit just wait these are creepers.

the clerks behind the counter at the corner store must have thought we were freaks. i asked for a large coffee cup and one of them said they would cost me twenty five cents each so the duke demanded to see the merchandise. we inspected the product and made sure they came with lids and straws to conceal the contents before we made the purchase. this brilliant idea came to us while we were hiding in the matchless photo booth because we wanted to take our drinks with us in to-go cups. this was the point in the evening when i realized we should not be around the general public let alone run into anyone we know. my pupils now look like black holes. the plan was to walk around brooklyn after we picked up ice and liquor from his apartment but instead we ended up sitting at his bar drinking from the paper cups and straws we bought for hours.

i think we all need to food poison ourselves more often.

making out with girls is fun. i went through a phase when i was in la where we’d play strip poker with a pot of kisses instead of chips and body parts as the blinds. their lips are softer and they know just how to touch because they’re familiar with our secret spots. last night when i came home i tripped over shoes in the living room. princess had company in her bed and i swear i thought when i saw him he would be naked and dead. she obviously didn’t hear me come in even though the walls in this apartment are paper thin. this guy was so loud and he sounded so into the position i imagined them in. it got quiet all of a sudden then a few minutes later the front door slammed. even i needed a cigarette after that one. on the stoop sat princess next to the man she murdered. they were not alone and he was very much alive with a perma-grin sitting in the middle of her and a pretty girl i just met. princess introduced her as a friend and i didn’t think anything of it when she slept over twice last week. that little shit was going to try and keep it a secret. the random guy she had a one night stand with was not who got her off in forty-five seconds. no fucking way that totally had to have been lady love.

maybe you’re not aware of the fact that good things come in little blue packages or that i tied bells to my shoe laces so when i walk away it rings like your ears do when i talk about you. sometimes i think you can hear me whispering but thats impossible because you’re miles away from where ever i should be. so i wait until the coast is clear and i sit still until i can’t stand the same position. the same old thing over and over again like the alarm clock waking me up when all i want to do is slip underneath my pinstripe sheets and stay there for days not thinking about breathing.

so its not you. its just me and i’m all by myself in the dark wondering why i’m not there and how you are everywhere. maybe its the first impression you make or how you got blinded by the smile you saw on my face. kind of like it hit you the way sun gets the top of puddles after it rains. maybe one day i’ll meet the person who can touch me kind of like that shine but i probably had never even noticed him on the street. perhaps our paths will cross and we’ll meet again the way they did in kodachrome movies or he could be sleeping right next to me facing the other way while i stay quiet pretending i can hear his heart beat. serenfuckingdipitydodah i gotta stop trying to connect all these dots, crossing hearts and rolling the die because i’ve learned its always the snake who stares you strait in the eyes. i’m exhausted but i don’t want to sleep so please i’d rather not then all of a sudden my subconscious stops and one thing leads to no question between why or why not. talent lies in whether or not i get caught.

this morning i left my keys in my apartment. i forgot them when i decided that i needed a cigarette. as soon as the door slammed on my ass i realized i had to go back in for my lighter. i was barefoot with no keys. sweet. i get to walk to the store with bed head and ignore the sign that reads no shirt no shoes no service and went in wearing just panties with an ex boyfriend’s old wife beater. the clerk knows me but can’t see my feet and i asked if i could use the phone before i realized that i don’t have my cell so i have no numbers. its a little before noon so my roommates are’t even due home until this evening. when i buzzed all the doors it made my landlords dog bark but that was the only response i got. fuck. i’m going to have to climb over ten foot gate to get into the backyard for the ladder so i can hopefully scale the siding so i can crawl in my window that might be unlocked only if i can pop the screen out. the cops happen to be patrolling the street and saw me hanging from the iron bars as i was trying to swing my leg over so they stopped, interrogated me for breaking and entering, then made me call a locksmith so it ended up costing me sixty bucks. lovely.

sometimes i get so wasted i need to be carried home. i swear i don’t do it on purpose. it just kind of happens.

as it turns out i found there’s nothing i could have done about it. i wish i would have thought faster but i don’t have magic powers and i can’t recite a spell that turns clocks back or makes everyone believe that time is just figment of our imagination. even though my watch is broken its still right one time when its light and twelve hours later in the middle of the night. in a perfect world there would be no such thing as what happens when we sleep. we all have secret dreams and the most important thing is for them to stay quiet in front of the people we pretend to trust. you can’t hide your skeletons from the ones your love because those are the ones who are supposed to love you because you possess them. i can love you unconditionally under one condition and that is only if you have the heart to show me what you may be feeling.

i was never a good girl nor was i ever a strait a student. i got b’s and c’s and was voted biggest skipper in the senior mock elections. i thought it was a joke so i didn’t even show up to the yearbook photo. my life fell apart during my last year of highschool. all my friends were older and had already graduated and left me behind to rot in the halls with all the assholes i had to sit through class with. i’d leave at lunch went to smoke blunts, eat acid or sprinkle shroom dust on pizza. maybe it had something to do with the drugs but i had the biggest attitude and i purposefully broke rules knowing that it would would suck to get caught even though most of the time i got away with it. i just didn’t give a fuck. i cheated and lied and i was the most ungrateful spoiled little shit you could ever imagine up until my baby sister grew up. i envy my parents for their forgiveness and i wish i would have listened when they tried to teach me how not to hold grudges.

you told me you were going to make me your queen but now whenever i hear your name all i can think is off with your head. i pretend that i’m the one in the throne and you are below me on your knees with your head down begging me for the plea of insanity so i spare your life. sorry love, not this time. instead, i’d like to stuff it and place it upon a shelf with all the other ones i’ve collected over the years. some of them are getting dusty now but your looks are still shiny and new even if there’s no life in those blue eyes. frame after frame after frame its always exactly the same and my crimes i committed years ago in vain are dragging behind me like shackles and chains. i let it go but they’re all still connected to my ankles. every evening i go home with a migraine and every morning i wake up in pain from tossing and turning on a slab of concrete screaming in my head for the gate keeper to pretty please fucking let me out of this place.

two’s company but three’s a crowd. shhh, listen. can you hear them? they’re all rooting for you, screaming your name over and over again, a whole entire stadium full sounding like a broken fucking record. you’ve been going places and doing things lately where you’re not allowed. treating others how you would never want to be treated yourself. shitting where you ate should have left a bad taste in your mouth even though everyone else can still only smell roses. too bad flowers remind me of funeral homes.

hail mary
full of grace
the lord is with thee
blessed art thou
amongst women
and blessed is the fruit
of thy womb jesus
holy mary
mother of god
prey for us sinners now
and at the hour of our death

life’s not fair.

i almost married someone because i was to scared to break up with him. we used to go at it like two stray cats and i would freeze when he couldn’t control his temper tantrums. that would just piss him off even more because he believed i was ignoring him so then he would make me flinch by almost hitting me with his fist, grab my shoulders and shake me or slam me against a wall so hard that i would end up with a bump hidden by the hair on my head. i used to keep a journal of all the things that he used to do to me, the things he’d say and the awful stuff i thought inspired by him when i got hurt. everyone has their fair share of personality disorders and i know i am guilty of several. he happen to be bi-polar, have adhd, post traumatic stress syndrome, and ocd. i thought if i cared enough then one day he would be a miracle. he used to get so jealous that i barely could even talk to anyone without him accusing me of something i was never guilty of. i planned the whole wedding and i had it almost all done; the band, the catering, the flowers, the dress and all the save the date cards had been sent out. the only thing missing was the undergarments, something borrowed and something blue. he took a cocktail that stole his libido so he stopped taking all the drugs and not long after that he started telling me i was worth nothing and i should just go kill myself. he got more and more violent to the point where i was living in this fear that if i said anything he might react by strangling. it wasn’t until after he put me in the hospital that i called everything off two months before i signed a contract.

on august 11 i was supposed to get married but instead i started my period and sat in the boston apartment we shared for two years all alone watching the storm. when it rains it pours. fast forward a couple years to when i first moved to new york and just got dumped by someone who told me that they would never love me. a mutual friend of ours popped the question to his lady and asked me to document their wedding. i agreed before they picked the date, started seeing someone else and then fell in love with my rebound. he broke my heart a week before the road trip to go shoot amy and pete’s special day in vermont when i shared the back seat with the friend who said i would never be his one and only. last year the sky was crystal clear blue on august 11.

it took two years of therapy before i realized this all wasn’t my fault. i can push buttons if i want and when i took a kung fu lesson i learned that walking away is the cleanest way to fight a battle i can’t win. i can cut off and it will be like we had never even been introduced and if i pass you on the street i will find the nearest avenue. you could be invisible if you’re rubbing elbows with me and i don’t really give a shit what you think. you can talk all you want and justify your actions with no remorse and all i’ll have to say is yeah, whatever, i’ve heard that line before.

i was in high school when me and my friend went to the humane society then left with a kitten in my pocket. we lied and decided we were heroes for our rescue plot and i didn’t care how pissed my parents got i was not ever going to let them not let me keep my pet. cat sitting always reminds me why i left mine at home in romeo with my mom and pop every time i took off to a different city. willow and max live on the forth floor of an east village apartment building with the photo editor at page six magazine. right now she is in la la land shooting and they are mine for the week. this place is a cage compared to what puff sneaks around in plus she even gets to go outside.

duchess believes that the duke has been cheating on her since he moved out of the apartment that we used to share. i moved into his old room when fara princess took over mine but he was still using my floor for storage up until this morning. i was sitting on the stoop when abby road drove up with the duke shotgun all pissed because i tipped duchess off to a photo on the dream girl’s public profile of him hiding behind her uploaded during the last time i watched willow and max. i told him he was not allowed to be mad at me and i decided he can be one of those friends i don’t exactly trust. i just can’t get over the fact that he’s still scared to tell the whole truth and how he spins things in an attempt to justify his actions. its fascinating to see that what goes around can come back around in full spirals.

the truth hurts. it stabs you in the back of the heart and twists the knife while it gets deeper until all of it has drained out into a pool at your feet. love stains just like blood does only you can’t see it on the rug when it’s been swept under it like dust. in my opinion you should keep your head down rather than your chin up. you should be ashamed of yourself because i know i am for originally being your accomplice and you’ve left me no choice but to question my own loyalty. pathological liars believe themselves and cover up the truth they make up in order to make themselves appear to be the good one on the surface. two wrongs don’t make a right and i wish i could exchange my eye for one of hers so i could see what she even saw in you. obviously you don’t value a friendship enough to swallow your pride but maybe that’s because you’re too afraid it might get caught in your throat and god forbid you choke. what you don’t realize is that nobody gives a shit where you go or who you do with your time. you don’t have to answer to either or and you can head for the catskills whenever you get bored.

i just feel bad for the innocent girl holding his hand while she skips down the street. she thought that whole time he was being honest and i even lied through my teeth to her face to cover up for his past that up until more recent than not was still his present. when she asked me if it was over i should have said no, probably not. right now he’s in a bedroom telling her a story - oh, and the night before he was under your covers he was sharing her white sheets. of course you should trust me because i made up all six sides of three stories. he kept telling her to not tell me things but when she got drunk she’d let secrets slip out. its my fault too though, you see i spiked her soda with lime and poured words down her throat. finding out he met his new lover while he was still with duchess then lied to everyone makes me wonder if the only thing he wanted was to get caught.

dear homecoming queen, things are not always what they seem but i do wish you the best of who you see in between.

“getting ahead in a difficult profession requires avid faith in yourself. this is why some people with mediocre talent, but with great inner drive, go much further than those with vastly superior talent.”

~ sophia loren