Went out on a hike and he never came back again.


So anxious.

There is a small animal in my chest trying to break free.

Cocoons in my gut getting ready to burst.

Sweaty.. everything.

Looking around at work today, driving home, watching movies… I realized I’m ready. With the support of two very lovely ladies who apparently know exactly what to say (Yeah you know who you are!), I feel bliss. I’m ready to fly. I’m ready to fly.

On your mark..

Get set…


I decided that I’m going to take a picture of all the poeple I’m going to leave.. or at least the ones I deam important in my life. It seems like a fun art project, and it’s always nice to have something to hold on to. (Sivan, you’ll have to send me a picture of you and Morgan looking super cute or some romantic shit.)

I went through my room today and put everything that I’m going to take with me into one corner. It’s weird looking at it and thinking ” This is me, this is my luggage and I’m going to drive it 600 miles across a state so that I feel some sense of wholeness.”

I’m constantly in fear that I won’t have enough money, time or resources to make this happen. I fear that at the last moment I’m going to change my mind and want to stay. I know deep down that it’s real though, that I’m doing this. I can’t tell wether I’m more excited or anxious or terrified.. It’s a thrilling feeling.

After watching the movie Sunshine Cleaning, Ive discovered that I might like to become a fireman

Sometimes I don’t know if I’m moving or running away. When faced with scary things, I tend to hibernate and watch a bunch of weird, quirky or depressing indie movies (You and Me and Everyone We Know, The Go - Getter, and The Vicious Kind respectively) so that I can escape whatever drama I have and live vicariously through these people. With less than a week to go, I feel… a strange malaise; I’m hovering in this nothing-space filling in time before I actually start living. Everything here seems trivial and a waste of time. But I’m scared shitless to move. What if Portland doesn’t fill this hole in my chest. What if I’m just as shy and horrible at talking to girls?

The hopeless romantic in me came to a conclusion. I’m leaving this town, yes, but symbolically I’m leaving the girl I can’t help but be in love with… or angry at, or whatever emotion I’m feeling for her that day. I need to leave and know that I’m not exempt from being liked by someone simply because they are close with my ex. I need to leave and know that I’m not going to be interested in a girl, only to be dettered because I’m close with her ex. I need to leave and know that I won’t know anybody. I can’t move on while I’m still in the same town. I should have figured that out 2 years ago.

It’s the opposite of Cheers, man. I wan’t to go where nobody knows my name. I’m going to express myself fully, meet amazing people, and I’ll start going by Christopher instead of Chris.



"Christopher," they’ll scream, "Howare you?”

Dec 9
Dec 8

Things are uh…. going pretty well. :D

World of Warcraft + Joints (to make me feel like I’m smoking a cigarette) + Nasty ass Hamm’s beer = What else what I be doing on my Friday?

I broke a record!

4 minutes into being at work, I got yelled at! It took every ounce of strength not to walk out of that door and never look back again. As always, things got better. I got off relatively early, and I didn’t even ask anyone for a cigarette on the way home (this would be day 8 of quitting). Definitely in a much better mood than last night.

Who am I talking to?

No love.

Anxiety, walking flesh, soul regurgitation. 

No words accurately describe.


broken; lost; shattered; hollow; aimless.

Only 8 more months or so till I move

and realize it’s just the same fucking shit again.

And the process repeats.

And the process repeats.

And the process repeats.

No love.


I’m never all there. At least 50% of the time I’m high or sleepy or thinking of an alternate reality in which I verbally fuckhate every person at my work. Most of the time though, I’m thinking.thinking.thinking. About the weather, the sky looks nice, I’m hungry, I wonder if…, work sucks, I think I look good today, I gotta shit, rent’s coming up, where do I want to go, is college right for me, I’m lonely, I should quit smoking for real this time. Reality seems to be slowly fading out. I go through work not as a person, but as a trained robot, jauntily doing my job to impress my alcoholic, cocaine addict, short tempered bosses who could give a shit because they’re too soulless to realize that they lost track of themselves years ago and are holding on to what’s last of what they think is their dream: Money.

My skin crawls with yearning. My innards retch. My head spins.

I’m overwhelmed. I need too much.

This is reality?

Why don’t I live in Boston. Coming back to Napa, I can feel.. withdraws from the city. It doesn’t feel quite right here anymore. The fan in my bathroom hums too deeply, the moon is slightly different, my house feels foreign, my bedroom too empty. Also, I have the biggest crush on a girl who lives there, so that could have something to do with it. It’s been a really long time since I’ve been twitterpated, and just waiting for her reply via email is making me a nervous wreck. 

In Boston I feel free, somehow. I don’t need a car to go to the store; If I can’t find something to do, it feels GOOD to read a book or just get out of the house and walk around town; People play beautiful music on the streets and in the subways.. songs that can haunt you while walking through a dark park; I at real home cooked meals.

I am enamored.

Skinny bitches get out

Or stay, that’s cool too.

Skinny bitches get out

Or stay, that’s cool too.

Found this in my house.. I’m pretty sure it’s Justin’s, but it could be Jeff’s:



I go to sleep every night

You smile at me and

I smile back

This will only hurt a bit


open your eyes

Put your clothes back on

oil engulfs my arms

like bubble gum