go away

:: 2004 17 November :: 10.53am

Then again there's something to be said for mindless sex. The only real problem with screwing Dan was that he had a girlfriend. And I knew it, and shouldn't have for that reason.

But really . . . I've got to just let myself live.

. . . After all was said and done [it's never done, idiot, you still] I kind of came to an abrupt realization of what a sort-of prick Corwin was . . . and I don't know. Am I blind where Jim is concerned? No doubt, but I mean. It seems like we click so hard, and that's what really gets to me. I don't get along with people in general. Friends are one thing. I have no reason to expect even as good a friendship as I had with Shillowe, and I flat-out refuse to ever angst to her. So what am I supposed to do with this person I can trust 100% and who I'll probably never find again. What am I suppose to do, settle for less but this'll linger over me?

And mindless sex seems like it would be the last nail in the coffin. It still makes me sick to think about. But I need to get that . . . freedom back. Except I can't.

I don't know what the fuck to do with myself. But living in fear is no good. There just seems to be no adequate way to break out of it.

It's to the point where, even if it were Jim, I still couldn't stand to be touched. A kiss is completely out of the question. Even the idea of holding hands makes me twitchy. I don't want to be within three feet of anyone, ever.

And damnitall, I want closeness more than anything.

Frustration.

:: 2004 17 November :: 10.40am

I just found my own journal through the random feature. teh lol 111.

:: 2004 17 November :: 9.55am

emotiondump is conspiring to tear my heart out. This is good. Cathartic.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

I don't have any words for this.

:: 2004 16 November :: 9.33pm

Svelte!

1 huh | what

:: 2004 16 November :: 6.49pm
:: Mood: Bored Bored Bored
:: Music: Skid Row - Remember Yesterday

Not another rant, it's ok.
Bored as fuck. well, for the past few days i've been stranded here in the apartment. no gas to get anywhere. no money to buy anything..nothing. i just sit my ass on this computer, listen to music and play halo2 and thats about it, oh and i watch lots of movies. wish i had some friends to come visit me. heh, anyway, i figured, its too hard to hold together a band with all the needed members. so now, im looking to start an acoustic band. i think its a pretty good idea. but yeah if you know anyone or you yourself are interested, get a hold of me. i thought it might also be cool to have like a girl sing in it too, that might be rad, but i dont know. just hit me with some idea's people. well, im going to talk to nate probably tonight about having a Halo2 party this weekend. see what he thinks, then ill post it and whoever wants to come can come. we'd set up a few tv's and get some more copies of halo together. but yeah, tell me if you're interested. i'd like it to be like the one's i used to have at my old house. with everyone just killing eachother and having an awesome time. so thats what i think about that. ill catch you all on the flipside..

Bradley

8 huh | what

:: 2004 16 November :: 12.45pm

yeah. day is definitely almost done. I am tired. And it hurts to breath through my nose. People actually eat in the school bathroom... ...

:: 2004 16 November :: 11.25am

so darn bored.
i can't wait until next semester when i have norkus 2nd hour.

oh that will be SO GOOD!

16 huh | what

:: 2004 15 November :: 7.12pm

listen, there's shit i need to say. the shit with jay, its between me and him. i shouldnt have said anything, if i didnt, i wouldnt feel like such a shitty friend. i understand why he's upset with me, i deserve it. but now, everyone is talking shit about me. i dont deserve that. i dont see why there is anyone but jay bringing me down. i know i did some shit i shouldnt have done, and i regret it. but everyone should just keep out of it. now, i dont trust anyone. i cant. if you're my friend and you honestly havent said a thing about me, then maybe i can still be your friend. but otherwise, i want nothing to do with you. i want best friends. i the couple people i had, all i can do is be loyal to them now. if there's even a chance. but i just want to know who my friends are. thats all. and if you are my friend, be happy for me, dont doubt me. my past is nothing more than my past now. gah, im losing my train of thought now...thats all i guess. bye.

3 huh | what

onceagainistandalone

:: 2004 15 November :: 5.15pm

i used to dream crazy whackjob shit that made no sense at all. now my dreams are very real.

i dreamed that i broke my ankle.

i dreamed that i stopped people from robbing me and my friend.

those were alright i guess, and fun to talk about in the morning..

but i dreamed about josh, and how i killed him one day because he pissed me off.

and i dreamed about molly....and we were almost there.

:: 2004 15 November :: 2.15pm

razzle dazzle. oh wow. Calc test in T-minus 19 minutes. CRAPPPP. I did study just a few minutes ago though. Hopefully it goes...alright. I love the poem we read in English today. A Valediction Forbidding Mourning by John Donne. It's beautiful. T-minus 17 minutes. America (the book) is pretty spectacular. So is food. Pretty darn spectacular. Did you know there is a store at the mall that only sells calendars? When do you wake up and go "Hmm...It's always been a dream of mine to sell all different kinds of calendars" ?
Eh. I'm so bored. T-Minus 15 minutes.

2 huh | what

:: 2004 15 November :: 12.38pm

Oh man oh man oh man. Day 1 of the week is almost done. My back hurts so bad. gotta go. test time.

:: 2004 15 November :: 8.44am

huh?

my mom was yelling this morning.
i never help.
i never clean.
i'm never home.
blah
blah
blah

10 huh | what

:: 2004 14 November :: 8.37am

OK. Let's pretend like everything didn't shit itself to death five minutes from the start.

1. NaNoWriMo. I got maybe 3,000 words in before it all imploded, but somehow, I'm more satisfied with this than I would have been if I'd proceeded with the orginal plan. Ressurecting Glitter&Achmed for even so short of a while, and realizing exactly what it was about them that gets to me . . . good thing. I'm done with it now, though. Let the chips fall where they may, I'm [sort of] through pining over the idea. Reality isn't a damn thing like that . . .

2. Concert called on account of, I dunno, pneumonia or something. Seriously, I don't know what the fuck I caught, except that it was obviously psychosomatic and probably nothing more than stress and lack of sleep. Still, I felt like ass.

3. Hapkido. Went once, enjoyed the hell out of myself, and haven't been back since. Excuse me, self, what the fuck??? I really need to remedy that, and fuck the night shift. It was never scheduling that was the problem, I just feel like a retard with no coordination. Which I am, but for fuck's sake, nobody holds it against me. [Except, of course, me.]

4. Phone line, website, AIM. Actually succeeded beyond all of my own expectations on this one. Congraduration, a winner is you.

5. Comic. Yeah, I'm supposed to be drawing one for Shillowe, like now, but you know me . . . it's not just that I'm lazy so much as crippled by fear of producing the utter shit that I know I will produce. So I don't do anything at all, which is ridiculous, but whatever.

6. No Blockbuster within reach, but the shoppette does have a small collection for rent and I watch a movie about a porn king. Haven't played DDR in weeks, though.

7. Ability to concentrate has returned, for the most part, except that I've run out of special features on the Clerks dvd. Sadface.

So, uh. Two and a half out of seven isn't too bad . . . oh wait, wait. Yes it is.

Crap.

:: 2004 14 November :: 8.40am
:: Music: Inspection 12- Red Letter Day

Sometimes I worry about the life you lead...Sometimes I listen to the way you breath...Sometimes I long for you to see yourself, and realize that you need help.
I never noticed how empty this house could get with people in it.

But right now they're gone again.

2 huh | what

:: 2004 14 November :: 8.14am

Names. I've never ever ever found a decent name for myself. And I've lingered long and uselessly over why, which I don't wish to re-enact now. But:

To Zenith, Ayrn, Deph, and maybe others I am still LT. Zenith is just Zenith to me, Ayrn has been Corwin for a while, Deph switches between that and Wes. All for different reasons. I never really knew Zenith that well, but at one point she offered her house to me. God, think about that. Never met the girl, and through the strength of AIM conversations she decided that if I needed it, I could have a room in her house. Isn't that awesome? She was, for a while, my wings. And then she kind of fell of the face of the internet, and now that she's back I'm not sure what to do with her. It's wierd and awkward, she hasn't changed at all and I have so much.

Ayrn . . . still a thorn in my side. There was never any decent resolution about him. Probably never will be. I did get to see him once, though, long after it had ceased to matter. Sort of. Thorn thorn thorn.

Deph/Wes . . . well, he's Wes. I mean. That alone should describe it, if you know him. He's cool.

Psyche was the only one who ever picked up the habit of calling me Torpor, one of the many millions of perceptions to which I am eternally grateful to her for. She singlehandedly destroyed my mindless argh at the christian nation by being so wonderful and accepting. I know her given name, but don't use it out of respect.

Alicia calls me Maggie, or Magpie, or Marmalade, or whatever the fuck she feels like calling me . . . it's brilliant. Only she and my grandmother have ever been allowed to bastardize my given name. It's an insult when anyone else does it, with her, it feels right. It'd be wierd if she called me Margaret, or Torpor, or whatever. She has a handle on me. [somethingsopmething, god, i'm so too tired to do this]

Jim calls me Chesh. Short for Cheshire, because, [and I misquote] ". . . you seem to be fond of the creatures." [Referring to my art.] The first time he suggested it I laughed, thinking there was no way he'd ever know how hideously accurate it was, and mentally dismissed it, figuring he'd find something better in a couple of days. He didn't.

I've lost track of my point . . . very tired. Blzz blzz blzz. No handle ever seems to fit me. No name is ever adequate. It's frustrating, after years of trying. I feel faceless and mute and wierd.

1 huh | what

:: 2004 13 November :: 3.00pm

I love this book! (America- The Book)
Alexander Hamilton:

"Founded New York Post in 1801; dubbed young Andrew Jackson 'Wacko Jacko'."

YES!!!! HAHAHA

3 huh | what

:: 2004 11 November :: 11.20am

too much emo . . . . aghaghagh. i know without a doubt now why i've been in such a good mood for the past three days, 'cuz today it all went away . . .

anyway. you know i'm right, she says. mutterings of Truth and Truth and Truth.

and i don't know. look at her. look "how the mighty have fallen." and she never would have if i hadn't. if i had stuck to my guns and.

a keening wail as i consider what could have been.

but if i had never known dan like that, i probably never would have met jim. so it's a fucking catch 22.

but i mean. it could have meant something.

but i mean. this burning in your gut. that's why it should never. ever. mean anything.

why. i thought it wasn't in me to understand the concept of "making love." [too much emo, child.] the endless calm that i float upon when [i wake up to.]

but there's another kind of calm, and it's probably what i need more right now. in this world there are and always have been things you can never have. beautiful objects made to look, not touch. you're one of them, boy. so was alice. am i going to look back at this later and laugh? and is it going to be in a year when you think everything's gotten better? and is it going to be in a year when i prove myself right, sickeningly saddeningly again and again? is it going to be in five years when i remember how . . . stupidly optimistic i was. and blablablablalbalbal. ptth.

no my point is . . . actually. no. my point is, and always has been. you know, people make mistakes. fucking deal with it. you know, some things, some stories are too great to pass by. you meet this guy on a chance in a million and you're giving up just like that?

. . . yes. think about it. really. really.

i suppose you're right. but i am too, or something? please, don't let this fire in me be always wrong. there's got to . . . . something something.

fuck the future. look at what i am right now. this is what all things are made of.

& i still say he's blind if he can't see this. but let him be. it's all built on lies now anyway. [you've closed yourself off too much for it not to be.] & you've got to take whatever you can get. you dumb. shit.

:: 2004 11 November :: 12.02pm

i finally got my license back. now im back on the road. except yesterday my car decided to bite the dust and not start for the whole damn day. but i had someone fix it. hopefully it wasnt a one time fix and it'll stop working again today. i really need to get it looked at and tuned up.

when i look at how everything is right between everyone...i think, wow, if our old selves from at least 2 years ago seen how we are now. they would kick the shit out of us for being so stupid. this group used to be all about friendship, we were the closest group of friends that nothing could split apart. i hate to look and realize how fucked up everything has gotten. one reason as to why things change so much...every year new people just invite themselves into the group. people that most everyone doesnt like, just because one person is friends with them...they're all of the sudden a huge deal in this group. i dont feel as if there is one big group anymore. now its seperate little groups secretly talking bad things about all of the other little groups. then some gang up and attack another group. i was part of what i thought was pretty much the origional group for the most part. a few new additions but thats ok, everyone got along. but now, shits just gotten worse over little things. i feel as though the members in my group(not saying its MY group) dont talk enough about their feelings towards eachother. and im a prime example of that, i fucked up. i know i did, but im doing now everything i can to repair this hole in our friendships. i feel as though the group is so busy talking shit about other people that we dont realize what we're turning into. we're not caring about true feelings, we're just worried about making fun or pissing off other people that really mean nothing to us. i dont want this group to fall apart. the group i consider myself a part of has a select few in it. the other people i accociate with are just friends, nothing more. and i dont want my true friends confused by that. but i know one thing, ive learned my lesson not to say something that shouldnt be said about people i know i dont want to lose. i will never find two more guys friends that i am so much alike. no one will ever compare to them. if i lose them, its my fault as of now. if there's anything i can do to get things normal, i will do it.

but now, im going to leave, think about what ive said. goodbye.

14 huh | what

:: 2004 11 November :: 11.31am

what the hell?

really?

how does this kind of thing happen?

:: 2004 10 November :: 8.00pm

You'll never see this, dear girl. I have no idea why I still bother with you.

. . . Never. Nevernevernever. Tell yourself it's inappropriate to feel what you do. I've been down that road. Worn deep ruts in it, I know it like the back of my hand. I've been feeling guilty for having any emotions that were not joy since I was a small child.

Yes, I love my dad.

[that was a low blow. i don't care. i am free here to say whatever.]

Trying to surpress it just makes it a thousand times worse. Maybe, maybe I'm wrong and you can handle it better than I can. Maybe there is something within you that I lack, or something in me that you lack, but I doubt it. I first became fascinated with you because you remind me so much of myself. A younger, purer, infinitely more focused version of myself.

I mean, think about this for a second.

[i don't care what their "real" names are, i'll call them whatever the fuck i feel like calling them]

Jyiis was so much a better version of me. Artistically, creatively, humorously. I looked up to her, and I guess. My little crush on her came from that and from the small amount of attention she paid to me. Keep this in mind, it's a recurring pattern. Anyone, anyone that I look up to for any reason whatsoever, if they pay me just a slight amount of attention I will enslave myself to their shadow. I can't help it. Wish I could.

[wish i could a lot of things]

Corwin, he could write. Really, really well. And . . .
[i don't like remembering this. how easy it was. to break it down.]
. . . he sang. Flying Pickles In The Sky, I think, will never leave my memory. How could you forget a song like that? He made me laugh. Often. He wrote for me, a couple times, I think. Something. It's hard to recollect exactly what went on, then or five minutes ago [my memory is such shit.]
No, it's . . . pretty much what I just said, I guess. He paid attention to me. And so much of him was like me, in certain regards. Of course, I also realize that when I find someone to look up to, I mold myself after them. So how could I help loving him and Mel? They were both sort of versions of myself.

I want that time back. Or rather, I want memories of it. I want something to look back on. I wish I hadn't freaked out and destroyed everything. I'm not sure if it would help if I had found his old diary, though. I fucking damn near memorized a few of those entries . . . that's not good, if you can't already tell. I get obsessive so easily.

Tie-dye. Motherfucking tie dye, poofy hair, Doctor Who. God. I miss it.

Emoticons. -.^ Bastard.

I should really learn to trust people more. Where was I.

Alicia, with Le Rouge of course, and the John Smith fixation . . . she understands more about that side/s of me than I think anyone ever will . . . & I am so grateful for that. For knowing I'm not completely alone, not a total freak. For knowing that someone out there will know what I mean when I say that skinning a corpse can be beautiful. And why I want to break mirrors.

Jim, who feels that raw intensity of emotion. The less said about him at the moment, the better.

Eli, the amateur philosopher, eternally curious at the nature of the human animal. Always managing to find beauty in life, even and especially in the worst moments.

I'm a fucking narcissist, but I doubt anyone will ever believe me because they don't have all the information at hand. They don't have the reactions, the thoughts, the reasons. They only have the surface of it. They only have what it looks like from the outside.

But you know, maybe that isn't such a bad thing.

Maybe I've spent too long convincing myself that I am Filth. Maybe something something something. You know?

Maybe . . .
[long, bitter laughter. the only one who'll never leave, who will ever be that dedicated, is my greatest ally and worst enemy.
i am such a fucking narcissist.]

Brad	:: 2004 10 November :: 8.23pm I'm sorry, please forgive me. Believe me if you could. 6 huh \| what

fadingfallenstar

:: 2004 10 November :: 6.58pm

I'm falling apart.
I don't care if you want to hear me bitching, skip over it if you don't want to hear it.

I hate how my dad doesn't love me.
I hate how my mom loves me, but is too damn miserable to ever show it.
I hate that my brother hates me.
I hate that I lost almost all my friends.
I hate that I let people get to me. Everyone keeps asking me why I let them get to me. If I had a reason, I'd make it stop. I have this, "fuck everyone, I don't care what you think" attitude that is entirely too fake. I do care what people say. I can't stand all these people hating me. I can't stand people talking about me.

These past three days I have been breaking down for no fucking reason. My mom yelled at me, I went in my room and cried. I walked to the middle school after school, I cried. My dad called me a slut, and so many more words, I cried. I don't cry. What is wrong with me?

I hate how this easy life is so hard for me to take. There's so many people that have it a million times worse than me, yet here I am falling apart.

When I heard Sam didn't want him at her party I couldn't help but be angry. How all these people can just turn against someone for NO fucking reason kills me.

The fights that exist shouldn't.

I hate how I have NO ONE to turn to. My dad was drunk, like every fucking day. And he was screaming. He isn't the funny, haha, drunk. He's the violent, screaming drunk. I had to go somewhere. I went through my cell phone. I have 30 or more names on there. And I couldn't find one fucking person to turn to. Not one. And half of the people aren't my freinds anymore.

I hate to be hated.
I hate that I don't understand.

I don't want to be the sarcastic bitch anymore, yet I don't want to be the little depressed girl. I don't know what to be.

I don't get why you're all such terrible friends. I really don't. What is your reasoning? How hard is it to just be there and be understanding? My group of "friends" is by far the saddest excuse of friends I have ever seen. When it comes down to it none of them are there for you.

None of you can have a mature conversation. You have to call eachother names and be assholes to eachother. Just talk it out. If you are so sick of drama, stop creating it.

All I know is that if I had enough guts I would have ended this all tonight.

And with reading this, I know nothing will change. You'll just bitch, and I'll be your next topic for your lame ass gossip discussions.

34 huh | what

:: 2004 10 November :: 8.39am

so what if my dad and i blast neil diamond?
so what if i saw yet another animated movie with my family and laughed harder than my nine year old sister did?
so what if i watched lord of the rings so many times that i have them all memorized?
so what if im the most popular girl in band?

i swear im cool.

or maybe not.

11 huh | what

:: 2004 9 November :: 8.44am

i'm too young to sit around and wait to be older.

i will live now.

5 huh | what

:: 2004 8 November :: 8.43am

i feel sick.
i hate this.
i hate boys.
i hate waiting.
i hate thinking that no matter what i do i could be throwing something away.
i hate second guessing.
but seriously, how long can i wait?

8 huh | what

:: 2004 7 November :: 1.08pm

Really fuckin' lonely right now . . . I should have gone somewhere, done something today. Something not involving sitting around on my ass watching movies about porn stars and angsting on the internet.

It's just a simple matter of not having anybody to trust. I refuse to angst all over Jim anymore . . . for one thing he doesn't need it, and quite simply the less involved I am emotionally, the better . . . it's unpleasant, though. I can never trust anybody completely. But I felt safe in his arms . . . but given half a reason he'll ditch me without a second thought. He's got no reason to hang on, he simply hasn't found anything better at the moment . . . and I keep thinking somewhere in the back of my mind that if I'm perfect enough, somehow he'll fall in love all over again . . . but. I mean, he can still never trust me. And without that, what is there?

I know. I know that there is no hope for the future as far as he and i are concerned. There is no future as far as he and i are concerned. Trying to hang on for over a year, ha, good luck with that . . . he'll get bored of me. Grow tired of me. Finally grok what I'm trying to say and be repulsed at it. Or find somebody who's less trouble, less maintainence, not so fucking far away . . .

. . . i just. wish i could be. [worthwhile].

:: 2004 6 November :: 9.57am

How different would things have been, would I have been, if I had gone to Colorado? Would I still be madly fucking pining in love with Corwin? [Probably.] Would it matter?

Being somewhere where I do not rely on my parents. Where what money I have/make is mine to do with as I please, and I had better goddamn well be careful with it 'cuz there are bills to pay. It would.

And yet, still. I would hide. And yet, still. I would be a child forever until that magical neck-snapping back-breaking eye-gouging moment of clarity.

Which I just woke up into.

It was never the Air Force that remade me. Yes, I was different after Basic. But that was shell-shock. That was fear and paranoia and knowing that in a panic situation I can sometimes do what I need to do regardless of the worms that are tearing apart my intestines. Tech School had little enough effect on me, I was a snail that brought my "home" my illusion of fucking worthlessness with me and lived in it. Presumably forever.

It was meeting Shillowe that changed me. That allowed me to embrace those parts of myself that everyone had always told me [or more accurately, that I had always told myself] were sinful. Were wrong. Were not what a good child does.

Sex is just the tip of the iceburg. She tought me to love the fact that I am a freak by society, to embrace and enjoy the wierd and the out there and that which had always been to me beautiful but I was so sure that everyone else would hate me for it. She accepted it. She more than accepted it, she loved it too. She loved me for it. And I loved her for it.

[Lest you get the wrong impression -- I have never and would never screw Shillowe. She's my adopted big sister, she tought me everything of how to be, everything which in my fear of losing Jim or any chance at someone like Jim I rejected. But it was never her teachings that were the problem, it was what I had done with them. A child on its own for the first time is bound to make a few mistakes. I've made mine.]

Shillowe is one of those people who you feel so completely accepted, so completely yourself around . . . it was great, and it freed me from myself. The hard part now is getting it back. The hard part is not letting my fear, not letting Sab's fucked up idea of reality, drag me back down into that hole that I have been living in all my life.

I'm back down here, but. If I just stand up. Put my hands on the walls. And pull.

Ha.

:: 2004 5 November :: 9.51am

Hmmm. Finally Friday.