Woke up at 11 by reflections of the pool dancing above me on the ceiling. Filled with a strange sadness I put on my Celine dress and slippers and walked down to the café. Air sweet of flowers and exhaust fumes and freshly grinded arabica. It's where me and black used to have our mornin' cigarett but she isn't there either (where IS she?). Instead a guy that introduces himself as an "Entourage actor" sits by.
"Whaddya readin?" he asks.
"Emily Dickinsson." I tell him. He nods
"Isn't that the chick who killed someone."
And they say americans don't know literature. Only they speak in difficult metaphors.

As I walk home I'm struck by how much I MISS her. I'm starting to think maybe she was just a dream, like my brother or the rest of the world. But then I see her scars on my arm and know she's still out there somewhere.

*

I'm goin to swing by her old house. Maybe they know something.

*

By the way, if you live in LA why not swing by @ the Marmont tonite! I'll meet some friends and take pictures

15 comments:

  1. I love you, mysterious girl. Just wanted you to know that.

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  2. metaphors is the only way to go.

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  3. Hope you find her soon!!

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  4. Love your writing.
    I'm following your dreamy world.

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  5. I love your blog! I can't wait to read and see more. xx

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  6. beautiful blog dear! the photos are just stunning- you seem to have a great sense of style xx

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  7. Fantastic blog!! Can't wait to read more & see more...;)

    Faiza xo
    VELVET MOON DIARIES

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  8. safe to say I love your blog as well. I just follwed, and your tumblr too, cheers :)

    MalibuMara

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  9. amazing photos in your blog. This site is so beautiful dear, keep posting.
    ps. just found yours from lookbook, followed

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  10. Just found your blog and immediately fell in love with it - you seem very interesting person. Posts with imaginative and inspiring photos really caught my eye. Perfect.

    xx Paula || intergalactic radio station

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  11. This is CRAZY. Who are you? I was at the Marmont yesterday and everyone was like: she was here! But nobody could really descripe what you looked like or anything. It's so weird and I'm getting more fascinated all the time.

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