me to you.

what would I do if they send me back? how do you handle something like that?

nothing to leave behind, and everything

the tornado which is mother is blowing through our home. father's back from China. I've put on Chanel lipstick, their darkest shade of red, and mother's pearls.
my sister, the curious one, comes into my room but remains standing next to the door.

"They're thinking of sending you back to Romania for a while," she says, her eyes fixed on the floor. for the first time I notice she has a scar under her chin and for a second I think of everything we never shared with each other, of how we're really strangers living under the same roof. "You should really get it together," she continues, and then my sister does something she has never done before. she gives me a hug.

it's strange to feel her so close, her skin touching mine, her carefully brushed hair against my nose. her mouth smells like strawberry and as strange as it feels to say it, I kind of liked it.

once more.

dear readers,
I'm back home again.

I've been dragged out of the apartment, I've been thrown in the back of the Bentley, I've been put in my room with my beloved windows once more.



Sara, thank you for taking care of me these two weeks, I won't forget it.

sleepless.

nightmares tonight. can't go back to sleep. dreaming about Romania, 2001, before we moved to Hollywood.

that big old house with its 50 (so strange with even numbers) windows and 23 doors. "Life's too short to stay inside," said my beloved grandmother (the only one worthy of our family name). "Come on out and play with your sisters." but all I wanted was to wander the hallways, observing the world from the fabulous windows. a different scene in every window, a different story through each glass.

window no. 7; grandmother smiles her gracious smile as she tickles my sister (the thin one), but has collapsed on the damp grass from her final heart attack when I get to no. 24.

mirror land

this is Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia, one of the worlds biggest mirrors. have you ever been there? if so, tell me.


it's the remains of dried-up prehistoric lakes, the worlds largest salt flat. the reflective salt gives you the illusion you're walking on clouds. for the past two nights, this is all I've dreamt about. for the past two nights, this is all that has existed.




take me there,
where heaven meets earth.

about a room with a mattress.

love by Édouard-Henri Avril

my room here is rather small, completed with a tiny window. I can no longer observe the world from above in the mornings, with a cup of tea in my hand, as I usually do when I wait for Catalena and Andrei to wake up.

last night; Catalena's white breasts, Andrei's longing body. no lights except the moonlight. a nipple in my mouth, a hand up my thigh. kisses down my spine.

suddenly I hear Sara's voice and the lights are turned on. we're caught like the deer in the headlight for a second, before Andrei takes his tongue out of my belly to ask Sara if she'd join us.

"don't you fuck all day long in Sweden?" he continues but she's already gone.

free.

I'm currently living with Sara, in her new apartment. Swedish girls are beautiful.

mother's calling incessantly. and, to top it off, my teacher's called her, saying I haven't been in school for several days. I have no friends at school, they call me 'epilepsy girl.'

sorry for the short post, darlings. just thought I'd update you about where I'm currently living.

leaving the mad house.

that ysl dress if anyone remembers

tonight, party under the Hollywood sign. Sara's turning twenty, mother's turning red.
I was recently grounded.

it feels good to scream at mother. I haven't screamed in ages.
I will leave tonight.

I will leave,
and I will not come back.

chasing moments.

my hair's much longer now

the week's been uncoordinated; a jealous objection against the free birds. it has now been exactly eight days since I showered last.

just get into the shower, says mother bitterly as I wobble in through the front door, closing the night and life behind me. I've read your stories about the world over and over. I envy and adore you all and

tonight, I'll sleep.

could you?

I love you. I love to read your comments. to see that someone out there cares. this is new, scary in some ways. wonderful in others.

please tell me about places in the world you would like to visit. please tell me about exotic animals and plants far beyond America. please tell me about the oceans and what to expect, cuz I'm never allowed anywhere since I seizure so easily. could you tell me where you would wanna go, you, who represent the free people? could you tell me stories about the world,

could you?