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Dear Ian,

I miss you. You should just call me. Just write back. Just write back one letter.

love,

bones

Last Christmas

Last Christmas Eve I didn’t tell you I was taking LSD to stay up all night tripping. It is a weird tradition of mine that always seemed to work out since high school. I was drinking with my dad and talking about his coin collection when you called to say goodnight. I said I was freaking out (probably because of the guilt and anxiety I felt) and you started crying and we started fighting all night long until Christmas Morning.

Things I remember you told me: -I’d always choose drugs over you. -I wasn’t good enough for you. -I was insane and needed help. -I knew I’d regret this tattoo.

Things I told you to make it better (and pretty much failed): -I was worthless without you. -I was scared of being a drug addict and needed your help to stop. -That if you left me I was going to write your name on my forehead and hang myself in the shower (we later laughed at this and it became a running joke for anytime we felt stubborn, we’d threaten the other with it).

Each time we made up I went through a manic swing and started to feel weird and started another fight with you. I remember this happening, but not why I did it. You said I was a boy that was a dime-a-dozen and I felt like a Taking Back Sunday lyric and hated it. Eventually you said you had to sleep and I was scared to be without you on the line, then my phone died.

I frantically tried to call you from my mom’s cell phone that I lifted from her purse in the hallway, but dialed your number wrong. I ended up calling some Mexican lady at 6am on Christmas Morning and was tripping so hard I actually thought it was you. I started laughing and making jokes and the lady kept yelling at me in Spanish and hung up.

“Lise, stop playing around” I’d say as she yelled something I couldn’t decipher.

I kept calling her back until she stopped answering and my phone was charged and I realized the number was wrong.

Redeeming part of the story: Despite this being comparable with a legitimate psychotic episode and causing a drama filled night and ruining your Christmas day, I actually ended up learning something. You kept saying “think of me, think of what I need” and it was pretty much the first time in my entire life that I’d thought of anyone but myself. From that day forward I started to think about you and what would make you happy. I became a better person. It was probably the best Christmas gift I ever got. Merry Christmas everyone. -Dick

#christmas #lsd #acid #write or die #dick jones #lisa bones

lewivuitton-deactivated20130828

I am going out of my mind

My back is arched, my nails are shredded, you called my words dreamy, you left a song up I told myself was about me, I feel inspired, I’ve been crying through the night, but not of tears of any particular denomination.

My heart is filled with you. My lungs, my skin, my bones, they creak with your touches, with your sweet kisses, with the ache that we must be apart, trapped in letters where our love belongs.

I want to write you two thousand letters, I will write you far more. I will spend my life seeing you as an idol and praying that I am forever your muse.

It feels exciting, touching your hand writing. I want to listen to the music you listen to. I think of you sparkling in California, think of me breathing quietly in Russia. We are ancient worlds apart.

I thought I understood it, years ago, but I didn’t. not really. I only knew the fragments of it, the semi-precious eagerness of it. I didn’t realize it would sometimes be more than whole, that the wholeness was a rather luxurious commodity. But it’s really just halves- half of you and half of me.

I don’t know much about it all, just the bits, the raw bits of you, and the raw bits of me.

#writing #redux #dick jones #elizabeth jones

You gotta strangle kittens if you want anything to get made into something. You gotta be ready to suck a lot of dicks and strangle a bucket of kittens.

Thomas

You think you gotta big heart?

That's total shit.

I didn't wish you to hell,

I just want you to split.

I wrote a snappy poem you were too conceited to realize wasn't about you.

Now you made your self Queen of the Tumblr fools.

So hear this now:

You think you can send curses around?

Oh you Sad Girl,

I'm the one with the crown.

You think you got good karma wishing me

stop

breathing?

Look in the mirror you dumb fish queer,

You only get worse with every beer.

You wrote poems about wanting him back,

so I took that for what it was:

a full blown attack.

Don't cry to people who don't know the whole story

Tell the real thing you fucking phony.

IF WASN'T ABOUT YOU, GET OVER YOURSELF

GOODBYE

I would never want to make you cry.

But really girl, you've created a new line.

-L.

#poem

See you Sunday

Me: I'm going to put words in your mouth to validate myself in the internet.

Illiterate Illegal Alien Cab Driver: HUH?

Me: Yes just hold on now that I've established to everyone reading that no cab driver speaks english at 4 in the morning I'll start writing.

Illiterate Illegal Alien Cab Driver: WHEUR TO?

Me: Oh I just want you to know that your thick accent and two word vocabulary sounds like poetry to me.

Illiterate Illegal Alien Cab Driver: LADY YOU PAY-RIGHT?

Me: Yes, I was just going to ask you about paying it forward. Do you study existentialism?

Illiterate Illegal Alien Cab Driver: ME NO-KNOW THAT STREET.

Me: Its okay, it doesn't matter where we go. As long as I'm not in the rain. I called my mom at four in the morning frantically asking her for advice and money because I can't handle myself. So you'll get an extra good tip tonight!

Illiterate Illegal Alien Cab Driver: Yes! Tip!

Me: Oh of course! You haven't said anything about my heart or how big it is yet.

Illiterate Illegal Alien Cab Driver: $25 DOLLA!

Nobody likes writers that take back their words and talk about it.

Fiction Writing Department

Dave: I don't think I've ever had a girlfriend.

Me: You should get a girlfriend.

Dave: Girls don't usually like me.

Me: I don't think you're meeting the right girls.

Dave: They never like me.

Me: They aren't the right girls. I don't like most boys I meet.

Dave: Girls think I'm weird.

Me: People think I'm weird too, Dave. I think were just weirdos.

Dave: Yup. You talk like Ian, you know.

Me: Really?

Dave: Yeah. You just talk in the same beat. Really quick and you both change the subject fast.

#Columbia #College #Dave

I really like this story I read on NPR this morning.

I'm the type of person that gets attached to certain puff pieces and I'll follow them for years. My mother is the same way and I really like that about her.

The part about the investigation is the thing that really gets me. Miracles are phony baloney, I think it's more of a freak accident. But the thing about the professional Devil's Advocate?

It just smells like a movie.

Interesting reading, but once again the Catholic church is making extremely profound statements very early in the morning.

#Catholic Church #NPR #News

giggle giggle giggle

You're a pathetic car crash blast from the past,

I feel bad about your fake laugh.

The truth is, it's all about how you play the game

and you still think you're somewhat sane.

But I was head cheerleader starting in seventh grade

So I know how to smell a lie from across the way.

And you're just about as clever as an anteater

You couldn't have come any nearer.

I can't sleep. I want to call you and tell you about my nightmares.

I'm going to dig my fingers into your chest during Human Centipede. Sorry I'm such a weirdo.

Going to Chicago today once I get my shit done here. Going to see a bunch of readings. Every reading. I'm going to steal the good lines and laugh at the bad ones.

There were about five or six kids sifting around, very drunk, screaming ‘Rock star! Rock star! Oh, look, he’s going to freak out any minute! He’s going to have a tantrum! He’s going to start crying!’ Then this other guy comes up, puts his arm around me and says, ‘You know, my girlfriend broke up with me and took my Nirvana album, so you should give me $14 to buy a new CD, ‘cause you can afford that now you’re a big rock star.’ And I said, ‘Gee. That’s a clever thing to say. Why don’t you fuck off?’

Kurt Cobain

‎"I'll say what my professor said to me: don't abuse the moon. It's a little Plath-y, and she was a noted moon abuser."

-Fran Abbate

My mentor/professor/hero

... why must you go on sabbatical!?

#sylvia plath abused the moon #most people write shitty poetry #i write shitty poetry #i used to also abuse the moon

Wanna know how great my school is?

Classes are cancelled tomorrow, WOOK is playing, and we get a carnival in our field house.

SUCK IT EVERYONE ELSE, HAPPY FO TWENTTYYYYY<333

This is How I Found Out Everything Was So Fragile

I had to learn 100 lessons in 100 years.

I know lots of things that I didn't know before.

I know that J. M. Barrie can make me feel less alone. The way he writes about Snow.

I know that sometimes people are born with their hearts to small.

I know that when they called you Hopeless, it was because you hoped less.

I know that anyone before the age of eighteen knows nothing, but says everything.

I know that the whale didn't swallow you, you swallowed the whale.

I kept dreaming about his island and his swollen lips, but the mornings all blurred together and being a waitress requires no brain.

Huxley wrote about what it looked like from the end of the world. But there were no oceans rising, no meteorites hitting, no atmospheres splitting. Huxley wrote about breaking and he ended it with a hanging.

I can still tell you everything, I can still reach my fingers out, you'll still hold them in yours.

You're the boy I know who collected all the light and you gathered so much, so much more than anyone else before.

You didn't even know how much you sparkled until I found you.

-L.

#lalalalallalala

The only cool thing to do living in Wicker Park is talk about how uncool you are.

Ian

Jones and Bones circa 1999

#blast from the past #lolz

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