ABOUT ME
Sometimes I write things in notebooks and pieces of paper, and then go on to lose them.
é tudo mentira.
Starting from the middle
(
Brighton, January 1, 2026
They walked and it rained a little. He dragged her suitcase. She entered the new apartment. This is not their old – home. This is his new place. The furniture was the same. A museum postcard she gave him was on his book shelf. A BW photo of Hollywood she sent him when they were still talking about him moving there with her. The photo was prominently displayed and that soothed her a little. It made her think that it was a sign that he’d forgiven her. She needed absolution. She was afraid of this day. But she also needed this day. Desperately in one of her versions. And another version thought this a complete superfluous and useless gesture.
She handled duality and multiplicity of realities with her multi-arm personality holder. (excerpt from “This is not my Kingdom. An unreliable Manual to BPD self diagnosis”
It w
How
?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? 
How
Culver City studio, pandemic thoughts, Sept 13 2020
Hollywood is a wasteland
Glendale is hell
People don’t say Los Feliz right
Santa Monica is dead
The homeless now live downtown
We have nowhere to go
The Beverly Hills are flat
I thought I could live with the Palisades
But he made sure to take that too
I hope for things to fall into place
And they just fall
It’s a wasteland out here
Stay where you are – wherever you are
Don’t move out west
Los Angeles is hell with a beach
LOS ANGELES, 2020 or 21
Realizing
The essence of you as a child is still alive Watching other families fight Some days I look at the corners and I find things I don’t need anymore. I stopped looking Because they were not there when I needed them. Then I find things I never wanted
Shadows and stuff
But it feels like it’s all connected and it’s a puzzle that I am too blurry to build. Mask. Youth. Daughter. Dementia. Charlie Kaufman. A house. And something else. I already forgot
The dancing. That’s it. The spine stretching in pain hoping for a future that already didn’t come
The dancing stopped at the beginning and no one asked for more. The people around and their noise and their thoughts- always invading my life. I never thought to share. What for?
After the sweat rolls and the car takes you home to rest And the bills are paid and the feeling of relief settles and you’re pretty content and happy with yourself, then you remember you have to go to bed ‘cause tomorrow you gotta go back
and do it again.
And it’s good to have a schedule and some money coming in so it can go out the next month. It’s pretty good to be ahead and not behind. No one wants to be behind. And when you’re ahead what else could you want except just stay ahead, you know? You can’t really ask for more.
That’s just life. That and the feeling of infinity. When you dance and your spine stretches like your body is the milky way expanding. that’s fine too. What else could you ask for?
FLORIDA, AUGUST 22, 2020
August 22 already
The distant thunder sounds like a muffled war being waged without the danger of invasion
I am a woman with an army encircling my kingdom
I am absolute in my defense
I am royalty lulled by my sense of self importance
I am god and I know secrets
inside the crashing of the waves
I should not have said yes to this
The rolling of thunder stops and even when there’s a flash now I’m not sure
Josephine waits again
I hope I fly without dropping dead
She was a tropical depression
LOS ANGELES FEBRUARY 9, 2018
I wrote this article in February 2015 while living in Salt Lake City, Utah and asking myself “how am I going to make my move to LA happen?” This story is a reflection of my feelings then, my deep desire to tame the beast I was mesmerized by and intensely fearful of.
Subscribe
Sign up for our newsletter with the latest blog posts and exclusive content. In your inbox whenever I feel like writing something!
Fine Frenzy Films 