He Loves Me, Loves Me Not

“Ya oughtta be careful what you say around her. She’s the town spermologer”.

When I first heard these words I scoffed. So what, she can’t be all bad. I believe I can handle anything that comes my way; a gossip queen can’t do me no harm.

Or can she?

I went into work the next day, and Liz says to me, she says, “Mourning Wildflower…”. I about choked on my coffee. She looked me up and down with her one good eye – her bad eye glazed like a blueberry donut – hand on her hip – left foot tapping – arms crossed, “Well?”, she asked accusingly.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, miss”.

Crisis adverted. How did she know?

Randy’s birthday is coming up on the 27th. He would have been at Wildflower last week if the transmission hadn’t given out on the last home stretch. As soon as the little red Toyota broke down he took out his yellow bic-lighter. Map in flames he let it fall to the ground. As he stepped onto the pavement the tow truck pulled up. Some kind of birthday month.

Back at headquarters, I was fixing
the little problems Yuri and I was facing. One, I couldn’t go back to work knowing Liz was on to me. Two, it’s time to move on anyways . Catch ya’ll the flip side.

Duct-tape in hand, Randy skates over to the next lamp post.

“Ya didn’t have to quit, Ari.”

I hand him a poster. What was I supposed to do? Let them mock me about my dead boyfriend?

“I don’t think they were mocking you, hun. They were probably trying to help guide you”. He skated over to the cork-board kiosk and did a plea-aye.

I hand him another poster. I look down at my iPod. Everything on my grooveshark account is playing by twos… Whatever You Like, Whatever You Like, Bukowski, Bukowski, Montage, Montage, Doesn’t Remind Me, Doesn’t Remind Me… God, who’d wanna be such a control freak?

“You can throw them a curve-ball, A-train”.

Wildflower is a big, witch-y, family reunion held in the mountains of my beautiful home state. It’s host of some of the best disc-golf tossers in the nation. Every year we have a tournament in the hills. Every year the location changes. And every year only a select number of homies get the maps to our destination. I guess it’s kind of like a sub-let party of the rainbow gathering. Most years I almost always get left behind. Guess they just don’t think I’m cool enough…

Foolish boys… I’d rock their world, too, if they just gave me the chance.

I’m not sure if we are really allowed to talk about it. It might be like one of thoooseclubs. The kind where the first rule is always, The first rule of __________ club is you never talk about ___________ club. He might be dead to you, but in my heart he is still alive.

Well, Wildflower, here is a big screw you with a smile and my middle finger flying high.


-by Arian



Bittersweet Nightmares

Two margaritas in and I don’t believe you,
People hear me but they never surely listen,
Broken promises, false assumptions, not being true…
Where’s the piece that’s missing?

Time, I wasted with you through the years,
My dismissed heart can’t mask the losses,
Blame games, broken glasses, drawing rivers of tears…
May we take this road forever-more-so cautiously?

</3 Finnie

Into the Spin


You Oughtta Hear the Mirror In My House

You Oughtta Hear the Mirror In My House

through_the_looking_glass_by_LanWu Through the Looking Glass by LanWu of DeviantArt

Into the looking glass I see the elusive whore that is me.  Masked and tasteless, she has killed the dream that I dreamed.  Stitches falling apart at the seams, it matters no more what she screams into the inhospitable, isolated, nighttime air.  It isn’t her fault he has gone away.  Left me alone… only with a suitcase of memories… and the girl in the looking glass.

Our past haunts me as I ponder every waking breath.  She says I could leave all of this behind with time.  Even if I could, it won’t bring him back.

Turning away only gave me room to cleanse the mask. Inside of me still lies a dark paradise of  menacing, sinister, ominous delight. There may or may not be two more of me, conflicting spirits and energies. Stand beside me and see. He won’t…

Drowning in her own salty tears, I try to adjust to the imbalance of her abandoned life. Oh. No. I don’t feel pretty. It’s too late for me to turn back, I have come too far. I too begin to drown.

Rescued from a slowly sinking ship she cries with words of freedom. Shadowed wings of sincerity, hinting promises of liberty…  Alas, they came too soon. Shattered bones lying deep beneath, only coming up to prove she’s wrong, pulls her back into the darkness. She doesn’t want me anymore.

She sings to me, “That girl that you’ve been before, the one that you wish never existed. She is dead and gone and lying on the edge of a galactic abyss. You are not alone. There is no time for flight. Go ahead and blame Hollywood, but don’t let that feeling hold you down.” In her eyes, I will always be a monster. No sleep tonight… We’re on the night train.

by Arian ❤


P.S. If you click “Oughtta Hear The Mirror In My House”, the Title will take you to Anya Marina’s music video Miss Halfway.
P.P.S. If you click on “No sleep tonight”, the last sentence will take you to YouTube as well and you can hear LadyHawke’s song Cellophane. 🙂


Day-Dreams of a Hopeless-Space-Romantic


[Illustration by myself from a few months ago]

Space, it’s space! Outer-space!
I’m taking a rocket-ship to another place!
I hope to find a galaxy that’s way far out,
Come across a planet when having final doubts,
Discover another universe of a different kind…

Oh, look, a shooting star!
I’ll catch a ride to a time of punk-rock show space-bars!
If I bump into an alien that knows his way,
Flies his own UFO and knows just what to say,
I’ll set forth into the future humming a song with him in mind…

A time-traveller with a compass!
His name is Anchor and he’s got lots of sass!
He built his own robot to help him explore;
A rebel of a past he wishes to forget and ignore,
Him and I, together, will have a lifetime of treasures to find…

To Be Continued… Possibly…