howconvenient.tumblr.com

A rude awakening...

This doesn't even feel the same. It was ever since I changed the colors.


Fruit in my wine alone at home earlier than the usual.
Used me, abused me
Or just myself. It was only a matter of time, always is.








My name is Yon Yonson. I live in Wisconsin.

Yes, again

I about a billion things to write in here that I thought of on the drive home. All of this specificity but then all of a sudden I had to get out of my car. So I have learned, yet again, that I should not drive when I am stoned because I let my brain focus on other things perhaps not focusing on. And because we all know that you should focus on your driving when you're driving; you may kill someone else. Just as you shouldn't drive drunk, either. Many of us doing it with only ourselves in mind like, "If I die, then it was my fault anyway," not like, "If I drive without focusing my attention on driving, then I may kill someone or myself." Maybe later I can prepare a truth table to find out if these compound sentences are equivalent!

We have been studying symbolic logic in math for the past week and it is quite fun! It's like a game. Today we had four separate statements written in different ways and then an original compound statement. We figured out the truth value of each sentence which made sense besides the weird ambiguous ones, and then compared the truth value to the original's value and there you have it! Brilliant!
The statement was something like, "If it is snowing, then I wear a jacket." The alternate statements were something like (this may be wrong):
a: If I wear a jacket, then it is snowing.
b: It is not snowing and I wear a jacket.
c: It is snowing or I wear a jacket.
d: It is not snowing or I don't wear a jacket.
Anyway, it sounds boring... it is a little boring but it's like a puzzle and I've never been good at puzzles. Teacher said take a guess and just write it down over here, and then do the work and see if you were right. I was right! I am a psychic! And the smart guy in the back guess the two that were very wrong. Yay for logic even it may be a hetero-normative excuse in life, as the philosopher claimed at the Symposium. I always think about that... but mostly I feel like it is a quantifiable way to measure out arguments, to dissect them and find the bullshit per say. A quantifiable way to measure out arguments. That's a pretty horrible sentence hahahahahahahhHAHAHHAhahahHAHHAahhahuahdehehehehehhohohohohoh

Anyway, I wonder why Math 100 is so easy and much more fun than the hard ass algebra classes I took before this!? If anything, this shit could be taught online to much more avail (makes sense?) than Algebra 2.
--

Brett called me today and I may or may not have been a little bitchy on the phone.
--

Stoned at the moment.
--

"'Cause paranoia ain't the way to live your life from day to day, so leave your doubts and your fears behind" - *NSYNC

i'll add playing dress up to the list.

These are those pants I scored at that show, I bought the shirt from Goodwill the other day.
and for fun.... see i'm straight....

Got both skirts for my Grandmother's funeral years ago... haven't worn them since. I think it's a little fucked up that I felt like I needed to go out and BUY something to wear for her funeral... and all I got was compliments from family members on how nice I looked, mostly from my blithering mother... and not any sorries for my loss. Both of these still ahve the tag attatched.

The blue shirt was bought quickly one Christmas to wear to Brett's Dad's Christmas party... The red belt was bought for a wedding and never worn. I just transformed that Weezer shirt into a tank top. That red sweatshirt was bought at a thrift store somewhere or another... too itchy to wear for longer than a few minutes.

Ideas to pass the time...

Masturbate
Nap, or masturbate then nap
Get stoned
Read, then go to sleep
Write, then nap
Wash things
Clean things
Make love, but that requires more
Blog
Exercise
Download things
Get drunk
Make music
Pray
Create opinions
Rationalize your thoughts
Do homework
Cry
Watch TV



I forgot where I was going with this. Right now I am going to do the first two. The others have been done....

They weren't home all day because he's black

They didn't shake his hand because he's black!!!! I must be able to admit that my parents are white trash racists. THey must be thinking, "If it's not a girl, it's a black guy, if it's not a guy then she must be a lesbian. What did we do wrong to deserve this?"

It's hilarious. Actually, it's pathetic. What a fun weekend, everything seemed to work out nicely... Much alcohol in my system and backed up pipes and vents...

My head hurts though. From the clenching...

I have two or three mountains of dirty clothes collecting in my room. Seven un-shuttable drawers and one un-shuttable closet. All in the name of partying. I seem to forget what it's like to take care of myself... but just for the weekend.


Bobette... was drinking three drinks at a time this night


Night Beats... went swimming my pool all day yesterday.


Sean's neighbor's backyard. Placentia, California

I was on the roof just behind this yard when Bob called me crying over Britt. I called Britt to hear her stupid voice atop her high horse, abusing Bob, using her, and holding a piece of chocolate cake in front of her and taking it away after she hands her the fork. Nice Britt. Grow the fuck up.


Does anybody even care? I bet you get a lot of compliments down there.

"You're never supposed to act on it, no matter how unbearable this misery gets"

This mom in my line today asked her daughter to be quiet, to just "not talk," because not everything she feels needs to be said. It was weird because I wasn't sure if that was right... She said, "Can't you just internalize your thoughts?"

--

Umm... feeling so nostalgic right now. I am speechless, so I should be able to write right now, shouldn't I? Just for the sake of writing. A stream of consciousness.

--

I wonder what I got on my math test.

--

I have pot somewhere.

--

So charming... what a charmer.

--

I need to internalize these thoughts right now. They are right in front of my eyes right now. My ears are filled with noise. I can't believe how many times I've listened to that album. What if I find a book like that some day? Wasn't I supposed to hang out with you tonight?

--

Last night I let go. I felt great though. Dancing around these people I normally see but don't normally dance like that around. These people I see many times a month but have never had a conversation with, maybe a cigarette or a swig of alcohol, but never a meaningful connection, even a mini bond. A sex talk. I've walked in on a few of them pooping or peeing. I've seen blood seep from their mouth or nose but never have we hugged gratefully or something. Our passing is always coincidence, never planned, always a surprise but then it's like normal again.

"Share this feeling that came over me" - The Starting Line

Last night I impressed myself for impressing those around me - only because they told me so. The people I try to be reserved around, my ex-boyfriends ex-girlfriends... Yes two of them. In the same area, under the same roof. They are people though just like me...

"That blond girl is my ex-boyfriend's ex-girlfriend. Sighh" - me
"What are you trying to say" - Nik
"Umm.. I don't know she's fucking hot..." - me
"Psh, please. You're hot(or something)" - Nik
"Thanks, that's all I wanted" - me
"No problem" - Nik

barf dude... Drunk me is a ridiculous me.


"Hahahahahha look at Tati she's a high hot mess" - Brandon


;/

My sister declawed Tony.

And cut off his balls. Mean, right? He keeps clicking the mouse....

Look at us right now!


I applied to the funeral home on Bastanchury... and bought some shoes off the internet.





I got stoned for the first time in long time yesterday and I just kept assembling snacks for a good three hours... and then I slept for a couple hours, wrote, window shopped online, thought about nothing. It was great. But then after I "came down" I felt manic and got more stoned down the street and ate some for food, ahha. Then I came home and ate more and watched cartoons!!!!!!! It was the most productive thing I've done in a while.

Today I have to work... I can't go to work...


The other day I had o work a five hour shift and I was all pissy about it. Then I got a customer complaint that I had a bad attitude and bagged her shit badly. Which I did... and I did... damnit I got caught! But for the record, she was a bitch to me first, and then I blame my attitude on all the boys (not 'men') at work were pissing me off. Snickering and sneering at me behind my back, throwing disgusting little smiles at each other and then fucking FOOFOO was being nice to me, probably the nicest he's ever been to me ever. So naturally, I asked myself what the FUCK was going on... then he nudged me all chaplike and asked me if I have been talking to Lew, our coworker, a lot lately. I said "every day and every night!" But then when we were talking we talked about Oakland and The Blank Tapes and his "tour" and his new car and his fear of moving to Santa Cruz because "he might not be able to come back" and then I said "So? Why would you want to come back anyway?" and then he said something about having to stay with his mom and his brother is crazy and he doesn't want to do that... anyway, a normal conversation. Probably about our third ever. I meant to ask him why he was acting nice to me and why he asked me that about Lew, but then I had to leave right after I got off and go to class.

It was fucking strange.

Then I went to class and we had our nonfiction drafts to turn in. I traded with a girl who graduated from UCSC with a Literature degree and I asked her why she was taking intro to American Lit and intro to creative writing and she said... "just to take some classes." Uhmmm whateva? She used to live in Vietnam with her father and also Europe. Her five page nonfiction was about three books in one. She had some great potential to describe even further her experience with her fucked up parents who got a divorce, her dad's mail-order bride in Vietnam, her anger in the past, her college days... it jumped around a lot and then all of a sudden she moved to poetry. It was most definitely interesting but hard to read I guess. She liked mine a lot too, I transformed my LA visit into something else. It was funny though since I mentioned mushrooms in the beginning, she thought all this talk about color that I was experiencing mushrooms. Then she said she felt like she was on mushrooms... then I explained myself and right after realized that I didn't need to. I might have struck the other kid in our group awkwardly because he didn't even mark punctuation errors on my paper. Maybe he didn't even read it. He had nothing to say about it.

This girl Nicole, has the same Lit teacher I had a couple semesters ago. The one from San Francisco who gave me a fucking C. We agreed that she was arrogant and a little self centered. I tried talking to this woman about many things and she did not want a thing to do with me. Then whenever I'd see her around campus she'd forcefully give me hellos. One time she was walking with an old professor, one of my favorites, and she stopped their conversation to say hello to me in passing and he just looked at me with out recognizing me and seemed very involved in their conversation. They wanna fuck. They are both married. And both Christians... stupid.

The Jesus Freaks were at school yesterday with their big stupid yellow signs. I told them that they were at the wrong campus FOR ME, anyway... They are probably at the right campus. I am surprised to see how many people actually consider themselves Christians or not necessarily religious, but also NOT agnostic and NOT an atheist. It's so weird to me... 'cause even if you are brainwashed from an early age, doesn't that doubt ever kick in...? We had a free write in class on Wednesday and it was this: "What happens after you die? Describe it."
Mine had something to do with an out of body view and a search for limbs because how can you be seeing with out any eyes? And laughing at your corpse at how silly you really look all the time, and no wonder you couldn't get laid. Also a fading of black into nothingness that isn't easy to describe because it is impossible to fathom it completely in the wake because we are incapable of escaping space and time, those are always there. Then I said you shit twice and it is a smelly affair for those surrounding you, your pores open up, and your butt hole relaxes for the first time EVER and you finally get a real break. You finally get to relax.

Some one else said, "Ok, when you die you have one of two choices. You can either be cremated or buried." Then she explain each process including how they embalm you, if that's the right word. Some one said, "Well, I think that yeah, you go to heaven and it's something like a slot machine that you keep winning." Then my teacher asked why you would need money in paradise, that's why it's paradise. TOUCHE BRO!

There was a lot of talk about Heaven. Someone also brought up purgatory and then we spent fifteen minutes explaining what it was... WHY!? Really people are religious like that? THey believe in.. HEAVEN?

Is there such thing as nonfiction science fiction...?

No, right?

--

The glass is half empty because it was once full and will be filled again. If the glass is half full, it is not automatically more optimistic nor is it pessimistic to think it empty. If the glass is constantly half full, then that means that it is constantly being filled and filled. A half empty glass will eventually become empty that is, faster than a glass that has just been filled. So with a half full glass you have constant absorption and no manifestation. No trial and error or any kind of illustration going on. No attempts at success or failure. No sitting there and relaxing. No reflection. The glass is half empty because it was already empty to begin with, it was filled with stuff before and it has been emptied since then. A half empty glass is a symbol of experience and not tenacity. It's a sign of courage. A glass that is half full has a higher survival rate than a half empty glass because it has a more pure atmosphere whereas a half empty glass is likely to contain higher percentages of backwash or sediment. A half full glass has evenly distributed molecules and more consistency; and a half empty glass may have sat there for a long time, allowing separation to occur.

Everything is made clearer. But it doesn't make sense to say that a half full glass has more area for gray matter as in, an indistinguishable blur about life. An experience of a half empty glass, or person who has experienced the death of a loved one perhaps, has a placid nature about its liquid contents. It is possible that the half empty glass has been humanly fucked over and heart broken. It has sat there and fermented further. The half empty glass has more verisimilitude. The glass that is half full is an emotional cliche and ideal. We are all more half empty than we are half full anyway.

go ahead and try to figure out what my future looks like

I just finished my draft.

I got too drunk for a Tuesday night. We went and saw a show and then to a bar and I got two double bloodys and then weed that night. Then passed out on the couch and made sure to take my shoes off. THen I drove home at 5 in the morning. Here I am. Work at one. Class at seven. I made it, apparently.


Egg beaters are gross kind of.


Find quiet. It's awful quiet.

no paper. Something old, Something new, something stupid I must allow

In fifteen minutes I'll be awake for twenty-four hours. That was last night, or this morning. Last night the smell was dreadful, the bums were out, more ruthless than normal because of the red carpet after parties, littering the gum spattered side walks. All confused over Hollywood, why aren't they a celebrity and why haven't they eaten for two days and why won't this girl give me money? "I just gave you two dollars man, just MOVE ON," said Patty blacked out drunk, and then she proceeded to threaten him with drug use, "I know two dollars isn't enough to buy meth but three dollars is! Just go!"

We sat and watched to see if we could recognize anyone. I only did when I heard names in the background, and made my own connections. Oh yeah, Jan from the Office, I don't want T.V. Someone said they saw L.L. Cool-Jay I'm pretty sure I've seen him in person before meaning that my excitement level would not exceed its current level, a burnt sienna on the rainbow scale. Yeah, that one time behind the scenes of the music video, I was totally there.

The scale was all over the bathroom. The sweater just popped out of the detailed painting with eyes like hollow commas and it made everyone's eyes look the same. Except for Patty's of course, hiding behind those expensive and smart looking glasses. The sidewalk smelled of soap and water, a loud purring of the trucks sounded and now I heard it again but from my kitten, Tony, sleeping next to me with his little paw resting me assurance. She glowed in the darkness as they walked in side by side, the three dykes linking arms like a bunch of fucking chaps when really all they do is question the meaning of their relationships by asking and trusting everyone but each other, and each one have it all wrong. She hugs me from behind, her skin cold form the outside and mine sweaty from the insulated cum stains on the walls. I trusted her to stay behind me for some reason. The band was playing, each member with a different tempo, but somehow with in milliseconds it all came together enough to make some sort of sense, but not enough to the most stubborn dyke at the moment, who has the BALLS to yell louder than the band, "THIS BAND FUCKING SUCKS!" Half of them looking like they are having the time of their life (only one time), and the other half looking bored as hell, as if they have to be up there, playing the loudest most noticeable instrument on the sidelines, but the one that takes the least amount of blood and sweat to play (synth). Barely even dancing. At least her skirt was stylish. It was great though, beautiful even to watch her talk so loudly with her hands yet still inaudibly to the birthday girl who they all came to see., but only for a moment before the alcohol took over and the night became a dream. Her backs to the synth player whose butterflies invisibly drop dead to the bottom of her nonexistent stomach.

Everything in my body says not tonight, everything in my body says no.

A couple months ago, actually more than that ago, when I had bronchitis, I ran into my high school Spanish teacher Mr. Juell, in the elevator at the doctor's office. He was paralyzed from the waist down, in a wheel chair and half his face was droopy but not from a stroke, but Guillain Barre. It's a neurological sort of AIDs, where your immune system attacks itself but your limbs and such are out of control, something. I had it as a child and all I remember was a tingly feeling in half my body making it hard for me to walk. Anyway, he was FUCKED UP. When I saw him, he had just gotten into the wheel chair and out of the bed for about two weeks, unable to sleep but and only able to scream and cry from the agonizing pain from doing nothing. Aside from talking about that, he and his cute wife with braces asked me how I was doing, what I was doing about school and so forth. At that moment I was contemplating dropping out of school, it was last semester, I remember now. They suggested that I don't do that because I'll just regret it later. I guess I'm glad that I didn't. If I were to move out to a cute little house in Fullerton and work my ass off just to get drunk and have a good time every night, I would surely slip into abuse again. I guess keeping busy keeps me away from that sort of settlement.

Anyway, I ran into Mr. Juell AGAIN at work yesterday! (I wasn't even supposed to be there that day!!!) And I was on my lunch break, I had just clocked out, but we talked for about fifteen minutes. He bought all the items I told him were good, haha. He's so nice. He was a Spanish-speaking missionary in some country in South America or maybe Mexico. He's a total dork. Found out he has hypOthyroidism and they thought he had cancer for a second there, I remember that actually. But he's been mobile for about five months now. He said he just keep getting better and better each day. He said that it shouldn't be much of a problem unless it starts "hurting relationships" hmm....
--

I've been living my life day by day, they get shorter and shorter when you have things to do. I also feel like I've been embracing every minute while not checking the time every second. The day goes by a lot faster and it seems less stressful though, when I plan my day out hour by hour... spend two hours doing this and that... it's easier for me to keep the important things constantly on my mind like a draw card, when I'm ready, or when I happen to have a surprise two hour period of no plans, I can fill it with something important or necessary. Unlike right now, when I woke up early enough to start writing my non-fiction, I made coffee and watched the Cooking Channel (not the Food Network*) and now I have 14 minutes until I have to take a shower.
-
Nikki took my car for some reason at 7am and she needs to be back by one cause I have to work at 130........ useless info.
-


Last night I went to Burger Records for the movie night. I missed the first one, but the second one was some old Clint Eastwood Western. For some reason I had this pulling sensation in my brain, as if telling me to think about someone or something because of this movie. But I just thought of it... that one guy whose name was also Clint. The aspiring author, musician, artist, sensitive brain eater of the picking coy variety.

After the movie we, me and 7 other peoples went to the Brea Dam in the early morning to throw golf balls up the incline of the giant storm drain/ parking lot where no cars are allowed to park/ massive roller blading arena/ concrete slab. The echo wall. Clapping goes on forever, we howled like wolves, or coyotes if you will. The houses are far enough away that we could be pretty loud. The closer you got to the edge, you can feel the change in gravity and the second you bounce the golf ball it leans back down to the grassy area at the end of the concrete. The moon was a lop sided oval, too bright to look at, and it faded some stars. The sky was a grayish purple with a red exterior ring from the "city" lights. No clouds. We also found some hells bells, near a sign that read: "Caution. Infested fruit, do not eat." So I picked one, it's on the dresser. Wow, completely wilted. I'll post a picture. Smells like gardenias, my Mom's favorite flower. I haven't seen my mom since Tuesday.


Happy Birthday Lizzie!

"They never understand the way I walk, and you know it's the way I talk that keeps me from knowing when I should see the things you're showing me" - Lifetime

Something's in the back yard...

Hello! It is really fucking hot outside, today I believe it hit 107 in Anaheim, but that's just according to someone's Facebook update. What should I listen to as I write... punk?

Hot Snakes... not so much punk.

I got asked out on a date today, by the best grandma in the world... TRUDY! Our romantic weekend getaway awaits us in late September. HEHE:D

I came here to write about stuff. By next week I must hand in some sort of non-fiction draft. I have so much to write about, but where to start? The work place? The sex? The violence? The rawness? Or the happiness, the ineffable, the hoity toity, the ideal... where's the fun in that? Happiness is overrated anyway.




There was a work bbq today at Eisenhower park. Everyone was talking about how they grew up in that park and love it so much and how much it's changed... I wanted to bring up how I was arrested at that park one morning at about 3, when I was 15 and a half, drinking and smoking and driving, and waiting for a car full of boys to meet up with us. That was a disaster. The scariest part for me was hoping that the cops wouldn't find my defecation just below the cement ramp near the wood chips. That's illegal right?


back to the work thing
So little bunny foo foo just text messaged me, randomly bringing up another coworker who is married and has children (not that that makes any difference to what I'm about to say) and foo foo just accused him of being gay, in fact a "gay demon," a closet case, that he loathes him aside from "everyone else in the whole wide world." Sounds like foo foo wants to suck a dick or two. Or three. Maybe even go as far as to give up vagina altogether and be a full time cock sucker. So I replied and told him to make out with him, that it would be the ONLY way to know, and then he said to me, "Fuck off jerko!" Did I deserve that? He was the one that brought it up. Whoa man, Foo Foo is a vicious fucking rabid beast. Foaming at the mouth and chewing on his long hair. Then he said, "Whatevs bout that fagle (LOL<). Let's get stoney sometime. I promise I won't be a drunken bad lover or anything :)" And then I said, "Haha, fagle. Ya let's get stoney." Then he said, "I'm. down. as. fuuuuuuck. :)"
AND SHE WAS ALL, AND I WAS LIKE, OMG, LIKE LIKE LIKE OMG, I WAS LIKE TOTALLY FUCK!
and I said nothing.

Nothing needed to be said.

Can I say that I ... my life? I feel something about my life. Maybe I don't love it because of things like this... but it's definitely something to laugh about.

AHHHHHHHHHHH





-----
Or I could write about you and how much you've let me down. I could sit there for hours and calculate it out. How many times, when and where and who was present. My theory as to why, and also include that I can't be the only one... not the only one. I can include interviews of others and compare and contrast their experiences to mine. Even though that has happened before, I could organize a dialogue that makes it easier for the reader to understand, to PAINT A PICTURE, of exactly what happened. Exactly how I, we all felt. It will be surprisingly similar. I could give it all right back to you, my revenge, and then I guarantee your tail will sting me right in the tendon or the eye ball, fucking me up for EVER!!!! Then I'd feel like shit and then I'd write about how much you have changed me as a person, a woman, an independent... all of the above. How you've boosted my everything and anything. My motivation, my horizons, my hopes and dreams, my posture, my voice... and how it was never for me or that other person but for you. Only for you. Not even your allies at the moment. But you're a special breed of human, like Jesus or something reefuckingdiculous. Something so indefensible, something so fucking prime, exceptional that there is nothing any victim could do to reach victory. Fuck. Impossibility does exist.

--
I swear I didn't mean for it to feel like this, like every inch of me is bruised.
---

Today I shared my love for the beats: the Buk and Kerouac. Margaret Atwood, and the graphic novels I've read... Swamp Thing... Black Hole... Others shared their love for the Palahnuik, Hemingway, fucking Twilight, Clancy... My teacher, awkward, unable to run a class smoothly and timely, a pushover, a flower child unable to take a rock and throw it on the floor

"I'm throwin' rocks at your floor, I'm breakin' down your front door, I'm desperate tonight and I just wanna fight"

and say what they feel instead of letting the wind do it for them. PSYCHEDELIA! HUMANITY! TRANQUILITY! Our anger is meaningless

My writing is sparse tonight. Doin' fine

Sometimes perfection can be perfect, how perfect....

Lower back aches.

Vacations come and gone too late. There's too much sun where I'm from, had to give it away.


What is romance?

11:11

Hot like Mexico, enjoy.



I am forcing myself to write right now, because that's what my creative writing teacher suggested. The class seems fun, but I am/was totally not prepared for school as I have been in the past. The first week is already gone, and I've only attended two classes. My English teacher is a hippie and has a long white pony tail. The textbook we are supposed to be using talks a lot about journaling, and keeping a journal is a requirement for the class, so yay, I'm already ready for that part. And we get extra credit for reading our shit aloud to the class. Vanessa mentioned reading vulgar ass shit and I must say that is not a bad idea.

I'm listening to Lady GaGa and drinking wine like this






Now I may force myself to read because my teacher also said that he'd laugh in the face of the writer who doesn't read. Of course it makes sense. Go ahead, laugh at me.


But he likes the Buk, and he likes the beats, and he hates the south. He's from Jersey. He used to write obituaries for the paper. He is soft-spoken. We went around the room talking about ourselves. The first kid went something like this (I was the third kid): "HEY! My name is Eric and I'm an English major. I love reading and I absolutely love to write, especially poetry. Um, something interesting about me is I am a musician, yeah, I play guitar and I just want to be a teacher, I also hope to write a novel one day, that is my ultimate goal."

The second went like this: "HEY! I'm Katy (or something) and I'm also an English major. I work at a comedy club at night both on stage and behind the scenes doing lighting and such. I am part of an improv drama/comedy group. I love reading poetry and writing it. I am also an actor and think that this class will help me in all aspects."

Then I went like this: "My name is Ta- Tatiana. Uhm, I have an undeclared major, and I used to live in San Francisco."

Teacher: "Do you miss San Francisco?"

me: "yes, I visit like once a month."


Half of me was super nervous because my heart was hella pounding because I was too focused on listening to the same 10 seconds of "Just Dance," in my head, and the other was really not caring about school or this class and putting myself down, thinking that I'm stupid for wanting to write or excel or get "better" at it or what have you... delusional shit. I left minutes before the class was let out anyway, in the middle of a reading, stupidly, egotistically. My ego was shrunken by these "wonder women," miss I have two kids and work two jobs and go to school full time, Mr. I sing in an a capella band and used to make guitars by hand, miss I love Biden, Mr. funny man who was the only one who stood up to introduce himself.

I was just over it. And there was a Miss I can read a book in four hours, oh, and this one time, I read fifteen books by the same author in one weekend HEHEHEHEHEHEHHEE.


All I can say is that I lived in San Francisco two years ago, I work too much, I don't read enough, I write a lot of bullshit, I update various journals, I have not shaved my legs in over a year. Good for you, Tati. I have a love-hate relationship with the bleeding heart liberal. I used to play drums but gave up - I used to care but gave up (not entirely true). I used to not think and now I do too much of that. My hair doesn't grow.




Though I did enjoy hearing people say that they first got into writing creatively in high school, because they had this one really rad teacher. Maybe that will be me someday. PShhhhhh.....

-

I wished for "everything to work out."

Another update...

I just got back form my doctor's appointment with Endocrinology. It went fine... so guess what they told me to stop doing? Smoking pot - apparently it suppresses the pituitary gland, which signals the thyroid about the TSH levels which I have high levels of. Since the pituitary gland releases hormones based on the TSH levels, in order for everything to be regulated with out influence, I must stop smoking pot for just a couple months so further tests can be taken, measured to see if I really even have this disorder/disease. The nodules I have won't even be touched until 6 weeks when I have more blood work done. This concept does not seem to be out of wack, or completely and utterly ridiculous, but actually seems like a good plan because of course, the palpitations occur most frequently and intensely when I smoke weed, a major symptom for hyperthyroidism. All the other symptoms, hunger, wacky moods and hormones are symptoms of the hyper thyroid... but also of chronic marijuana usage, no?

Along with this prognosis I was also issued a low iodine diet meaning I can eat basically nothing. No salt. No dairy. No red dye. No soy. No sushi. No turkey. But veal? <- fuck that. But hot dogs? <- fuck that too. But egg whites <- I can do that. No ketchup or mustard. No liver or other organ meats... thank God.

Anywho, she said to try my best on this low iodine diet, not NO iodine diet. In two weeks I'll have another "scan," whatever that means, and in six weeks I'll have more blood tests. So yay for not dying at the moment.


-

In other news, I am hungry and don't know what to eat. My class starts at 11:30 and parking is going to be just a ball. I am not so worried about this treatment process because I have noticed changes in hormones due to smoking pot in the past... I feel a weight lifted...

*Fun Fact*
I have two symmetrical swollen thyroid nodules, and two symmetrical under-the-skin cysts on my 'majoras. WOoooWeeeEE . Both mean nothing, but perhaps add a little, as my co-worker would say that I have that he likes, PIZZAZ.

It's art

The ass mug, the trunk of your car, the way the shoes fall, the messy dresser, patterns in the depth of the dust on the lamp... what you've touched and what you've decided not to.


Drinking a glass of wine before bed, called Rendezvous. It was $2.99 and had a girl kissing a boy holding a picnic basket - product of France. They said I got the last bottle but that's never the case.

Today he was nice to me... one of my coworkers asked if I thought he was cute. I said yes and so did she, but it followed with "but I don't know why...." haha. I don't know where to begin about thinking about this shit.

My heart remains vacant, awesomely. No kiss goodbye to Liz, again my fault, unless she didn't want it. Again, it was up to me, or was it? Sigh....

--
(I really hate how specific I am going to be right now)

I think that two people of the opposite sex in a hetero-normative mindset can cuddle maybe even kiss nonsexually, under the moonlit sky, trains going by, wind blowing; just as two queer (polysexual -- blogger isn't giving me the corrections I want so I have many a red dotted line on the page) people can cuddle, even kiss in a tent, under a blanket, in a private or public setting (hand holding) nonsexually. I can't quite grasp what I'm trying to say right now, but I do know that it is something about sex positivity versus negativity... that NORMAL SEXUAL FEELINGS for someone, anyone, are to be expected but not always with romance. What is romance? Does a relationship once in love turn into companionship, Platonic sexuality? That doesn't exist? Will someone answer this for me?

I asked him straight up an obnoxious fucking question: What is the difference between recreation and recreation? Recreation: recreational center / recreation of the "self/ego/person." I'm not a meth head but there really are ants crawling all over my body. I can feel them.


It's like that time he asked to hold my hand during conversation. What a sweet person. "Is it okay if I hold your hand right now, is that cool?" This blog is absent of names...








i am a visitor here, i am not permanent

Excuses for not believing in God...

The world is just too fucked up for him to exist at all. But he exists anyway whether we like it or not, in constant questions of the centuries...

I came here to write about stuff but now I can't think of anything that's really truly bothering me at the moment. Maybe my thyroid is in sync now with other things in my body. It's not being a little bitch today... I've been listening harder and deeper into the things that I see or feel or hear of course - tones of voice, body language (listen very hard), listen to their eye movement/contact, their smiles, when and where they smile. It's been getting me out of the dark lately because I've been more in tune with my surroundings, or so I like to think, unless I'm being very nicely deceived.

I feel like I've finally come down from the acid. Yes, more than a month ago. The only thing I learned maybe was to NOT do acid. I must be in the right state of mind and the right state and the surrounded with other minds that I find to be "right." But we are all segments of the universal mind... I can't just be ok with thinking I'm so right and comfortable in such a tweaked mindset, I can't just be there alone, by myself, surrounded by others who are on common ground.

blah blah blah blah blahb albh



I met someone last night and we botch offered our shoulders to each other if we ever needed or wanted to cry. Then we talked extensively about shitting and/or farting, burping...

And when I thought about doing or saying this... and I didn't... and I regretted it ever since.

----------
"And something happened on the night I last drank with you in the neon glow.
Now I don't see you anymore. "

Bug Stomp

It felt good to let go...

It felt good to embrace the nervous flutters and ride on the butterflies...

I've changed from yesterday to today. Thanks for reminding me of who I used to be or something, even if it wasn't intentional.

I smoked 16 cigarettes yesterday.

Yer blowin' my mind

How's it feel to have a burden in your life?

The plasticity.

I have made a horrible habit I guess, of taking things literally and trying not to look too much into the things that people say or do... It's working fine lately... but I refuse to believe anyone's invulnerability to life itself. And I try so hard not to bullshit. I refuse to acknowledge the exceptions people make for themselves... except mine of course (duhhh). Just tell me straight up, your thoughts... I'm not going to cry - that's a lie. But I'd rather hear about you than this or that thing. Things that are static.


Let me know the truth... let me knooow the trruuuuth.

Blow me (off)!

It hurts to be reminded of myself

Oh ?
like eyes murdered in sin
oh did you forget
all the words you ever spit

love love love
this isn't it
love love love
you wouldn't know it
if it hit you

oh erase my name
from here on out
it's only pain
I can't tell you why
you hate me for living
won't let me die
-Giant Drag



I gave in!

I've spent the evening talking like I don't usually do and thinking to myself. I spent the evening quiet, at home. In my room. Something I never do and for some reason, always try to avoid. I feel safe here though. Feeling internal. I've been getting picked up from work by my parents lately, and dropped off. I spring thoughts on them and like to listen to their feedback. It's weird when I can predict the exact thing that they say. It's easier with my mom. She always has something clever to say, tonight she caught me with some new ones I haven't heard yet. Usually they are cliches, proverbs, tenacious... Clever though. My dad always says something in a strange tone of voice. What he says usually has an underlying hostility or arrogance... violence... it was making me smile today as it was happening. Just the terms that he comes up with... like the Bush dictionary, you know? I don't know if that really exists. But I feel like he feels confidence in intimidating people it doesn't really matter WHAT he says but HOW he says it and to WHO - it's just a sales technique. Psychology.

What if I have cancer?


I talked to an old friend today. I was thinking, calculating (makes me think of the lame guy from class last semester, the one with the hair and the bow tie, the one who used the words CALCULATIVE REASONING but this isn't that him) the months since we've met. It's been about a year, in November, or Thanksgiving. I miss the flashing lights he produced - the immediate indulgence I sought at any hour really, I knew he'd be there to answer. Because his hand was half-phone. If I get my thyroid fixed am I still going to think about things like this? Will the curing of my thyroid make me think differently?

Maybe I'll get scarification over my foot tattoo?


"A life with out love is like a year with out summer." - Swedish proverb (apparently)


"Do I love you because you're beautiful, or are you beautiful because I love you? Am I making believe I see in you, a woman too perfect to be really true? Do I want you because you're wonderful, or are you wonderful because I want you? Are you the sweet invention of a lover's dream, or are you really as beautiful as you seem?" - Oscar Hammerstein II

I'm dumb, she's a lesbian

But that's just a stupid dream that I won't realize... 'cause I can't even look in your eyes with out shakin' and I ain't bacon...


Today is Em's birthday, I think she turns 29 today! I remember when we first met and I was 17 and she was 26 or something... I was surprised because she acts so much "younger," whatever that means. My dad has to drop me off at work again today... blah.

School starts in two weeks! I have nothing important to say, the news has that one covered I guess. I'm just here to vomit.

"This there and stare, like a goat chewing a wood chip, at the wall for an hour maybe, thinking nothing, like the average goat."
-
"I’m sleepy now. After all these unruly wishes being made – gluttonously seeking, scrounging. Oh no loosing... "

Blushing, not caring...





I do and you like me too... I'M READY LET'S DO IT BABY!
=======w

Knock me out and let me go back to sleep...

Something beautiful about chaos, blah blah blah...

Times change but people never do...

Avoid cliches...


Weezer on Saturday...

So it goes...

I think you need to close yo mouth 'cause you ain't gone tie me down!

shawty wanna roll whatchoo want right now?


Tears fell on the drive home, ten minutes away. It only took a few seconds for me to decide that I should let them fall anyway, might as well.

"Either way, shiiiiet" - Black Dynamite - an interesting blacksploitation film that I watched the other night. It's a bit ridiculous but I enjoyed it.

I have a lot to tell you about but have nowhere to start and this YOU is so vague. I said goodbye to Jen tonight, she leave for San Francisco in the morning and her 21st is next week. I bought her orange freesias and a gift card to TJs and a lame card where I attempted to explain myself. It was just mumbo jumbo that we always say to each other including a "Happy 21st Birthday, bitch!" But to tell YOU the truth I was pretty sad to see her leave. I feel like we have gotten pretty close this summer and now it's fucking over. I'm going to miss her a lot more than I anticipated. She is the least self-destructive person I know and the most confident and caring and nurturing person... and so beautiful, driven, passionate, smart, funny... deserving. Leaving me depressed and lonely, haha. I don't even remember what happened last night and I was sober. It seems like last week.

I keep having flashbacks to two years ago and I can't stop. I keep having these outrageous visuals not drug induced, so how do you explain that? I wish I knew more about neurology because I'd like to know the process of memories? Something about them. Don't they change instantly, so it is impossible to really have a valid memory, making it possible to MAKE memories, like brainwash yourself? Kind of how a psychologist can make you REMEMBER things.... Is forgetting impossible?

From my journal:
"I'm sorry, Ringo. I've loved you so much, took you for granted, and learned from you. You snow cat, strong feline - stealth but something out smarted you, you arrogant bastard."

My tears were half for Jen and half for Ringo.

Some guy asked me to "hang some time" the other night in the midst of a blasting band, bowl, cig, and moving faces and noises. "I'll find you," he said, nonchalantly and I said "yeah, sure..." and then good bye. Anhedonia








splintered word salad

Can't fight against the youth, 'cause we're strong and a rude, rude people.

When I think about the movement I think about all the "bad" people involved. How can they be bad if theya re involved in something so good? It's impossible to be all good, duh. And progress doesn't just occur with out a set back, duh....

.

If there's one thing you've taught me, it's all the things I knew but never employed. You've taught me to curl up in a little ball and silence myself and I taught myself to get out. Fuck you is all I can think to say.


I betchoo think this song is about you, don't you

holier-than-thou

egotistic
moralistic
unreal

Characterized by certainty... I couldn't feel a thing; wouldn't want to any way.

Impossible to, with all that shit in front of you, distracting you, swaying you, manipulating you.


I think it's time for some sort of change, I feel it strongly today. We'll start fresh.


menage a toi

I can't find my journal anywhere...

I bet you someone took it. I bet they thought it'd be really funny to fuck with my head and watch me go crazy over something that is right in front of my nose. I know people that do that...

I don't really like it when people try to get a point across and they will tell you "this story" about this friend of theirs, who has a name but not your name, but it is you, has the same situation but not THE situation as you, and instead of straight up telling you what is wrong (in person) or what they think, they'll tell you an elaborate story about you from an outside perspective, as if to enlighten you in some way... Fuck the Enlightenment. In the end their story doesn't make sense because they leave out the one important ingredient... YOU.

Especially when there are others present, perhaps with the same opinion of you. I mean if you really don't like me/it/the way I am that much then why am I hanging out with you? Why haven't you just told me... why can't people just be real! I still remember that one day, a breakthrough, not a breakdown. Before I moved, before we broke up... The day I decided to live life objectively and literally, the day I deemed myself irresponsible for others actions or my thoughts, and it was quite a weight off my chest. Years later I found people thinking me apathetic, level headed even. Laughable. I stare at the wine bottle that I bought weeks ago for emergency uses only. Maybe on the next holiday. Why does nothing ever suffice? Why am I still always left in the dark and outer boundaries? Why do I regret my late introvert? Why am I stuck in this body and why can't I find a decent escape? Because it's impossible... I feel like I've given up on the possibility of psychedelia, the potential for it. I've done these drugs and they don't really heighten my senses it only seems like it. It doesn't really reveal anything to me that wasn't already there, that I wouldn't have figured it out eventually. It hasn't showed me any more beauty than I see daily through these eye balls, these backwards translations. How could I be so naive? Why did I think... and yet now it is a part of life that I feel like abandoning - quitting. But I am so comfortable, here and there and everywhere as long as it's present. ...These people aren't you're friends... they are paid to kiss your feet... They are for entertainment purposes only and how shallow is that?

But then when you find that one that does it out of impulse for you and only you, that's when you know. Still trying to figure that out... My sickness is coming from my disgust with humanity - it's fucking disgusting. It's so vile. It's so dark and gilded and fucking fucked up. And yet it's beautiful and captivating, fascinating.. blah blah blah...

The more I think the more I want to just stop and it makes me cry. I wake up in the morning a contradiction, dead and sweaty and sad but content. It's pathetic. It would be like this everywhere unless I had someone. But not you, or you, or you, or you. I just doesn't happen that way.

Fuck it hurts. I can't wait to fill my head up with more stupid bullshit that at least isn't mine.

?

If we cut out the bed, well then we'd have nothing left-
Like I cut up your mouth the night I stuffed it all in-
And you lied to the angels, said I stabbed you to death--

I lost my head, you couldn't cum-
This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun--

I want to go blonde..? Just for an experiment.

...(cont)

and you better not have meant it that way. Or I'll cry

Dear mother, can you hear me whinin?

Forgive me, I'm too busy hating.

Changes.......... but we always remain the same person deep down. It reminds me of this childhood picture of a friend's boyfriend. He's like hugging some cousin in the wilderness with the biggest smile I've ever seen on a kid, and if you knew this guy then it'd touch your heart too. He's an addict now, doesn't treat her the very best he could, is elitist, too cool for school, but knows how to be fun and have fun when the time comes

wait you know what. this is going to take longer than I want and I have other things to say.

More things to say about emptiness and fulfillment.
You glad you had me, you got that extra notch on your belt or headboard, but I could also say I'm glad to have had you, to have gotten that CONFUSEMENT out of the way. Dirty, horrible, fucked up intensions. I am a bad person. I like you but I can't. I can't like anyone. Meaning there is only one way out of this, to let someone swift me off my feet which wont happen either. That little trickle of bubbles in the stomach you get, no matter how big or small, is a trickle nonetheless of something mutual. I'm talking about bullshit, don't you see? I just want some mutual love, some companionship, all that shit that everyone else has. I want that so I can stop caring too about other peoples woes too, ok? But what if I want comfort? Reassurance? I want that wall to break down. Don't let me keep thinking you're too cool. FUK YOUUUU VICE! Dawnna. Vice Versa.



Just found my email for registration on the 22nd. I need to get math, art, and phil. All over again. I must. I need to keep myself busy with an overload of bullshit!!!!

it's so hot and I have to go to work in an hour. I even called in to ask if I could come in an hour early.

Nope



I can't wait to move the fuck out. But when will that be?

OFten times I think about those who will attend my funeral, those who won't, what they'd be doing instead?

Breaths on nex

... another way of sayin' there's war outside - but just not here.

The principle of utility... is such bullshit. It is the root of oppression! Oh shut up, you minority, you, just do what the crowd does, go with the flow, no one cares, no one cares.... A surplus of care is insincerity. Too much of a "good" thing bad, right? Too many hot dogs = bad health, too much motivation and not enough interest = emptiness, misunderstandings.


Fuck me. No it's okay I got it covered!!!


I'm crazy. Be my friend or die.

1970's romantic sex

Or is that just a stereotype....

But if you think with in the racist, anti-feminist, new capitalistic suppression of the 60's-70's, think about if two were in love, the epic sex that they would have together - behind closed doors of conservative cultures or routine religion. Not to negate the also evolving liberal consciousness among the masses. Activism ripe and tasty and working. I'm thinking about sex between any two people, romance, commitment, infatuation, but real. For the female, sex is a social taboo and undesirable; for the male (if they were in love), perfect every time but the physical act must be kept a secret among family for the most part. The female loves the se but it must also be kept a secret and she must fulfill her role as a young "woman" or "lady" for mere survival.

Ummmm......

Living in the past seems almost better than now. So much more to discover, more raw materials. I feel like my youngness is slipping away because nothing new happens. I hear or see or imagine other people's lives as 12-21 years of age and it seems to be much more interesting 'cause they ain't mine. Mine deal with a lot of failure and misunderstandings and misconceptions and rejection. I guess everyone deals with that too. But i never did this or that. Thanks to the Lucid Dream Kit, you'll be on your dream vacation in no time! Call now and we'll send you some courage as well - pharmacists standing by to explain correct usage.
You can really do anything... or you already have!



The world is a vampire...

(cont.)

I must add that I keep finding red lighters on the grounds of places... the jerk always has red lighters. COME ON!

Once a week after our initial kiss, at DOlores Park, perfectly useable.
Secondly last night at a gas station, all scratched up, but perfectly lightable.

Get out of my face!

Bed time

It's cloudy and I can't help it. I remember the days in SF where I couldn't emotionally afford to work on a sunny day. I'd just call in sick: bad sushi, bad womanly problems, vomiting, foot pain, parents in town. But not nearly as much as Karina called in sick :)

I've been feeling rather reckless lately, like I'm missing something in my life. I miss connections. I think that this whole thing with my co-worker was a failed attempt on my part to make a new friend. I should have listened to my gut and maybe the red flags that pretty much told me everything that I now know for sure-- but can you really blame curiosity? How can I just KNOW with out really experiencing this person. I regrettably got my expectations met.

Jen and Vanessa and Bailey had a lot of good things to tell me. That I shouldn't feel bad, or, DEFINITELY shouldn't feel bad. That I can't just be that person for him (enabler, channel for emotional lash outs...), all he was doing was fishing for compliments... what a jerk. He said it himself. Oh well, NEXT.

I find myself thinking of him when I apologize for myself. No more of that either...

Sometimes when I feel anxiety I can decrease it or make it much worse. When I talk about it it makes it easier, but is that bringing people down with me? Sucking them in? Holding them hostage? Why can't I just deal with things normally and not worry so much about shit. I just felt like I was somewhere else, in another city or state, and I look up and I'm in my room. With the same lamps and chests and stupid paintings and messy shit. Dirty clothes and what not...

On pacing:
I can see all of my little hairs shooting out of my head, spaciously and thinning.
My heart beats for paranoia of high cholestorol - I was supposed to call hours ago.
I can feel the hinges of my eye lids sticking and jamming, one eye rolls back and the other stays closed, unable to focus on one thing. The lashes, separated by goo and other substances. But all that could be an illusion, if he is right.

Remember that feeling you got when you very first thought about experience, about death maybe. WHen you were a child and someone died, the very thought of experiencing death, of experiencing anything, college, Europe, drugs, jobs, money, marriage, pregnancy... when you were told that this relative did that and this and that someday, when you get older you will be able to experience that on top of anything else you want to do. That sensation was both happy and sad, kind of that you have no choice but to experience good things and bad things. Maybe people drink themselves silly every night not to deal with these things like emotions. The emotion of going to Europe and coming back is intense, happy and sad at the same time. Of course, not everything in life is always happy - but it can be when you're drunk. But think about it, your penis isn't as happy when you're drunk....

I forgot where I was going with this. It had something to do with multiple allusions from anyone or thing... Shakespeare to television.... makes people live unique lives and experiencing anything and everything slightly different than the next person because words, images affect it. So tiny words really do matter on a small scale, it can shift the rest of your life. Just like if that car didn't stop at that red light the huge truck would've hit your car instead.

Writing and talking in fragments is probably not good for the brain in the long run. I am conditioning myself to be mediocre. I might be ok with that. But when I sit there and think about it long and hard I can't help but let the tears fall....

--

Seeing him was amazing. It wasn't long enough. All I want is more and more and more and more... He's all I can think about at the moment cause I know he'd dig this band. His voice is captivating. I've been slightly miserable ever since we dated. I can't even remember or believe that it happened. He's so beautiful and smart. He was exactly who I hoped he would be towards me last night, and not the guy I'd see at parties with his new girlfriends and then there's me... in the corner with the cloud of smoke. I keep trying to think if I am attracted to him. BUT WHAT IF I'M GAY?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!??!?!!??!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!!!??!? There was so much more to tell him. I think I may have gotten a little over excited. A little too stoned. But I can't wait to see him again because he is my first love, and nothing, ever, will ever fucking top that shit. I will always love him and have a place for him in my heart. Just like you

There we go. Rollin down cheeks like snow covered mountain peaks....

He's taught me so much. He taught me to smile and laugh.

Not to worry is a hard thing to do...

I really enjoyed having sex with you!

I don't like how you live in my life...

Slowly been weaning myself off of you... I think it's finally here. You are quite different than I thought you were, and of course I can accept the fact that I was engulfed... engaged... taken... obsessed... reserved... but I didn't know it then. And maybe no one will ever know...


Oh Plato.


Stand up don't make a sound
Your ears might bleed
There's sweet fluorescent enemies
That live inside of me
The world moves faster than I knew
Not fast enough to not creep up on you
And the space we put between
So pull me under your weather patterns
Your cold fronts and the rain don't matter
Because the sun burns when I need it

Dark allusions

Finally, some peace and quiet and time for me to take for myself, time to write, time to spend with the people I always forget about -- but the past ten days seem like nothing, they went by so fast and it only felt like a weekend in San Francisco, not the Burger Records Caravan of Stars Tour across the states. We started the tour and will be here for them when they come back. I haven't had enough. I've just had a taste of it and I'm fucking starving now.

I wish I could say that I've learned a lot in the last ten days, but I really haven't. My adventures were dreams made reality, and my questions stand unanswered. I was getting used to the purposeful pleasure of the aesthetic life. Sex, drugs, music, art, word, love... But after all that, I sat down to write in my journal and the same old shit came out.

Even now, after the dog walk I thought about how I would start this blog entry, something deep and dark and oh wait I remembered it. It was about I dream I had last night. It was a strange dream. I was in my math class, or I came to that conclusion because there was some kid from my LAST math class there, so I just assumed. But other funny people were there so let's just say I was in a college class, most likely from last semester since we were all buddies ol' pals. Uhm, so I showed up late (also not likely) and we had to write a poem or something about our "vacations" and I had no time to do mine. Teacher said that we were all to read ours aloud to the class. So I took my bottle of... something... and used the unpronounceable ingredients as metaphysical words or phrases in a poem about love or something. Of course, I was chosen to read and so I did and then I got a standing ovation. My teacher laughed at my words though because they made no sense. But it was excessive laughing and tears falling and breaths gasping. Descriptive verbs. I got into a conversation about those when I was on acid. I try SO HARD to avoid conversations like that when sober.... because people give me that look, that stupid look like... I can't describe it. They just don't care, but neither do I, but why can't we talk about it?

WHY!? Why anything? Why does anything matter?

I feel foundation-less all over again. I felt like I had my life together, but I never do, no one ever does. It's all a fucking illusion just like romance is. I can't eat, can't find my appetite. I can't find my source of this confusing drama. But is it? If that's all it fucking is then I'm over it. Fuck all of you, all of me, and I care about nothing I have no path for anything. None of this makes sense. I'll be happy on the road again, being no one, having nothing, doing nothing. We took this guy Bobby home from SF so he could visit Orange County for a bit. He's leaving in July again. Maybe I will go with him. He said I could. He also said how easy it is to hitch a boat ride to Europe. All these temptations. THey make me want to cry because I can't just be content in normality (of course, whatever that is, but why is it so easy for everyone else?) and be nice to my parents.


But then they say it's the little things that matter... but those are what I don't have. I am basking in a quantity over quality moment. I need someone to listen to me - for real. I need someone to love and to love me, but really. I want to undoubtedly be able to trust someone. I want to fall in love and have no worries. I'm ok with falling under that illusion because I'll be able to know. We would both know and both be ok with it. It would be beautiful.

And at the end of this... nothing has been said.






Maybe I'm just being manic. Maybe I just need a beer. Maybe it's okay if I consider myself an alcoholic because that justifies my neglect of my dog. I feel so guilty I want to cry. I am a little bit. Hot with goosebumps, cold with a sweat. I wasn't ready to come home. I got used to not having a face.

Don't want to understand

Why you never get older

8 >

At the moment I have a slight head ache, and Sisyphus are comfortably sharing my bed. For once, one isn't pushing the other off. He breaks my heart.

I miss Ringo. I didn't ever think he'd leave... I took him for granted which is what makes me really sad. At least we didn't see anything bad, that would be worse, right? He's so fucking fluffy and cute I miss him ;( I hope he didn't suffer. If he's not dead, I hope he comes back.....

Summer is here, yesterday I had my last final and I feel this unrelenting freeness inside. I feel enthusiastic for something... Sometimes if I don't think too much words escape, the right words or the words needed at the time to collect what I need or want. If I think too much about what to say or what to intend or something, perhaps the exact opposite consequence occurs...

I have to learn how to make decisions and stop living in an either/or dichotomy. I feel word-soupy and fried.

I was falling asleep sitting up last night in a dark room full of blurry faces, but I didn't care. I kept smiling and squinting my eyes. I couldn't move. Kind of hate when that happens, but I just rode it out.

Horrible responsibility. Fuck all these people!

OOOhHOoooh Hold on to me

It's been a while. School is almost over. Much is new but nothing really that can be explained in this amount of time.

I still have anger in my gut, constantly. I cover up my thoughts with superficial ones that are easier to be concerned with. But then I may snap out of it and become utterly depressed and alone... contemplating ends of sorts... but then I just accept what is around me for what I have to be happy. It doesn't make me happy when I see someone acting fake for the sake of another... a certain friend and her boyfriend who in my opinion, tries daily to make her break up with him. That cycle is vicious and disgusting and I hate witnessing her insecurity and his dominating tendencies... taking her for granted.
And with that I see other outbursts of hers, where she may insult me in pretense... it makes me smile.

Everyone just makes me smile.


For different reasons of course. I miss realness. It makes it easier to deal with people if you dehumanize them to stars... ambiguous hands of a pedestal, flattery, mockery... But I miss humanity sometimes... I miss the fearlessness of Bailey!


I have so many thoughts... I have strong and weak zombies around me.

This one guy made fun of me at a party the other night.

Guy: "Oh, my name is Tati and I'm only into girls blah blah blah"
me: "Uhm, fuck you? If I even need to say it I'm into guys too?"
Guy: "Spend the night."

That's pretty much how it went. And then later I was sitting cross-legged, ankle on the top of my knee, if you can imagine. He came over and knocked my leg all the way down so knees were touching, and said, "Don't sit like that."

I hate people.

But in order to hate, you must love. And love I do in small doses.

Is it too late to talk about it?

I'm trying so hard to not act like it didn't happen, but that's hard and that's what pisses me off. I'm sorry but that apology was incredibly insincere and what am I supposed to think now? Why do they always forget that they are the parents and they should be taking care of this sort of business? I'm not the one that is in charge of this... but I soon will be. I'm planning on moving out to Fullerton or Placentia with Vanessa and one of her friends. I don't even care anymore. It may sound bad but I think I may be stuck here - I need to finish this, and I can't just leave now, I've only arrived. I need to prove something not only to them but to myself, I need to prove a lot. Ugh this repetition right now...

Can't believe it, really. Don't want to believe it. This way I'll be close enough as well as far enough. It's going to be hard, but harder than SF? Cheaper rent and higher pay and I still can't manage to fathom it all... a dog now. That's let's say, about $20 a month. Also car payments, perhaps $100 a month. Plus rent, I'm hoping for $450 at the most. And finally food and... recreation if it's possible, $50 a month. So that's going to be $620 a month, of course I could do it! I'll be stressed, but differently than before. Perhaps I will sell weed or what have you, that might help.

There are so many aching possibilities.

But I have to choose the one that will make me happy. I can work through this if I am close by, they can come to me as they please and I to them. Plus, it always seems better when I'm around when I want to be anyway. If I am away all the time then I would want to see them. I'll be close enough, so close in fact. It might work out well. I'll be with other people my age and maybe who will understand me or something. I'll never be understood, especially by them. Which is why I should stop trying this way. This was a horrible decision, I admit.

Just come over if you want.

All these expectations and disappointments. Nothing to fulfill besides my pessimism. But don't use that word pertaining to anyone else because that automatically shows that your way is "better" than theirs, and that just simply is not true. I feel refreshed and changed daily. I feel so alive and raw, but not necessarily in a happy way, just in a growing way which can later be a happy thing. But right now, it's lingering, and annoying, and stressful, and agonizing, and confusing. But doable. It is possible. And plausible of course!


WHY!? Oh the humanity.
I'm just being a good girl and doing what I' supposed to be doing, not what I want to be doing which is finding love amidst the chaos. It's weird how chaos is a beautiful thing and love is such an ugly thing. Love is evil! Chaos is real, and real things are our common sense. The external objects are granted to us, and we use them all the time with out second thought. Even this little over priced toy of a tool or reliable source of information about things, an organizing instrument is but a toy that I use to distract myself from the real reality. The troubles and the problems. The failed attempts at keeping blood kin close, when these people do not know me and never will, fully. I guess just the same as I'd never know them. But I'm not even there for them and they aren't here for me. By word of mouth we are... but who ever believes in that "he said she said" shit. Well I guess I do, or so says Berkeley, Decartes, Aristotle, mo fuggin' Hobbes/Hume (I hate how my text uses the slash. Blasphemy!).

I'll have a degree in "he said she said" bullshit. I'll have a degree in the shit that no one cares about -- what an honor! They'll come talking to me and stop listening 'cause they only care about the "he said she said" tabloid news, pop culture and Lady GaGa. But she's cool whatever. Oh no, that actor died form that thing, oh no Britney Spears relapsed. Are those people really real anyway? What if she got paid to shave her head and fool us all into thinking she's a drug addict, when really all she is is a robot, a fuck machine (Bukowski). I'll believe it when I see it, ok?

This entry reminds me of my Philosophy test answers. Ya know what I mean? LIke, yeah.....

I know you're takin' time... but maybe it's just too late.

Is that possible? Is there a time for everything? My imagination comes up with some pretty amazing things, and I guess it's up to me to actualize them... it's not that hard right? Just be open about shit, and honest, and what else can be done? It's the easiest and only way... Well, maybe not the easiest but I'm not one for mixed signals or manipulation or any of that shit... I can't "drop clues" or what have you. I can just say "I like you," or "Wanna do it?" or "Wanna hold hands?" I can't be that graceful in this sort of setting or state. So yeah, I think I may like someone or have a crush on them, but they are younger than me but not by much, much less experienced (in many ways, bade on my observations and past knowledge), and I can't tell if they are into me or not. I am highly intimidated by rejection from this person which makes me say, let's just stay friends... but that may be even harder if I feel this way. I'll just have to wait till the time is right, I guess I'll know it when it happens. Watch, when the time is "right" I'll make it wrong in every way...

Then there are people in my imagination that I picture myself being in love with, people I have met like once before, whatever. It's so nice. But the more I think about what goes into being in love, I exhaust myself. Everything and nothing at the same time goes into it. And with this person it seems easy to be around them, not having to censor much, and yet I can feel a disconnection when there is one. When it suddenly becomes a little challenging I become slightly discouraged and sad. Yet I think about them in a subtle way, just in a, let's hang out way...

But I did feel a little crazy yesterday. I was anxiety-ridden. My joints hurt when I smoke too many cigarettes.

I'm getting a new car, may drive it to SF from Portland, OR. And then home from SF. I took my entire spring break off work.
I thought yesterday was Thursday.
I thought today was Saturday.
I have homework to do when I get home from work today, but I also have pot to smoke.

I'll come find you.

Let's start with a quote shall, we? Hey my name is tatiana

"Two things fill the mind with new and increasing admiration and awe... the starry heavens above me and the moral law within me." - Immanuel Kant
I think it's weird that he referred to "the mind" and himself?

Which makes me think of... "Did you ever realize why there are no stars in the sky? Because they're on the ground, the air is brown." - Tsunami Bomb


This reading is harder than the others. So I decided to wait until the last two hours before class to read it.
tehheheheh

I am high. I've been smoking with someone lately who doesn't really smoke weed, and he can't get high apparently, or didn't tonight. My tummy hurts.

I feel a little crude lately. Uh oh!

=___=
sotner eyes?

=___-
drunk eyes?


I'm high.

Tomrrow I have schoool !!!! uGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Why does everything have to cost money?
freeloader: A worthless, lazy, opportunist bumb who takes advantage of people and thinks they should get everything on a silver platter without earning it. If he has a girlfriend, he probably sits at home all day without a job and mooches money and things off her with the excuse, “I’ll pay you back later, baby, when things improve.” She keeps giving him more money because she is nieve, has low self-esteem and too spineless to stand up to him and kick him out. On the other hand, if the freeloader is a female she is probably a spoiled, stuck-up b***h who lives at home and gets money from mommy and daddy while sitting on the can all day eating Bon Bons and watching soaps.

Being a freeloader is learned behavior because people keep giving them things without saying no. "

Thanks, UrbanDictionary.

I can't even begin to think....

(_8(I) <(^^<) <(^^)> (>^^)> <( )> (I)_8) hhhhHhaha (I)8-) lol!

i mean

(I)8_)
wow

Only thing on my mind takes up all my time

groovin to Sublime...

Flat

like my hair.

I've learned how to manipulate the falling of my hair with this new conditioner... how fucking interesting is that?

I am anti-relationship but I have open options, and they must stay open. My love has been dissipating, I have been allowing some sorts of entrance, maybe not enough. My darkness seeps out in awkward and trying times, I can't help it. There are certain people who never change in my perceptions, but how is that if I feel like I am changing so much? I feel radically different than I did last year, why do my customs/habits prevent me from allowing the other to show their change? That doesn't make sense.

My philosophy test was cancelled today and we yelled and called our teacher a mother fucker! We all studied together, hard, laughed, cried (not really), and then the test was postponed. Studying tomorrow "down town" at 2pm. So I decided to ditch art too. I need to by a new drawing pad...

I tried to feed Sisyphus cheerios yesterday but he couldn't chew or swallow them, they just got stuck in his lips and fell out later. Covered in loving drool. I cam home the other night high as fuck and he was stuck outside in the rain.. it was sad. Four hours later I had to clock in for work, stayed out all night again with another four hours of sleep to work, stayed up... slept for about seven hours. I felt spinny and dizzy when I woke this morning.

We talked about not much. Said I was exciting.

Thought in bed the other night. About crashing waves of cause and effect, new mental impressions, arrows with squiggly tails. Thought about ear popping at certain elevations, the constant conjunctions of contiguity, the habitual expectations we assign to waking up in the morning.

I wanna be friends I wanna be cool with you.
"Get yourself in top of me, before I'm gone" - Tegan and Sara

If I wasn't here

They'd be together right now, not watching the same show on different tvs in different rooms.

I feel like this is all my fault. I feel ridiculous for being here right now. The moment my thoughts flow this way the tears come, wasted and ready. All I want is someone who doesn't know me more than a best friend to be around to hear me out and listen to my shit - most of it is so subjective though, it wouldn't be the same. My sadness has no maximum limit. I wonder if my neighbors can see me smoking out front in the middle of the night. Or me and Britt by the side gate in the middle of the night with the dog whining... it's a funny picture actually - next to the Barbie dream house, the huge dog, cigarette and pot smoking dyke and nondyke-nonfemme.

We have this will but no understanding when before there was quite a bit of understanding and no will behind it.
And why do I feel so lonely otherwise. There are a million possibilities. I just need to be sure that this is impossible, when nothing is.

It's sad to feel that I am a waste of time. But it's good to know that you are worthy. Am I so fixated? Am I so controlling in this way? Why can't I just be? somewhere else forever?

A succession

Just now:


Before:
litasfuck
at night
optimistic
confused

My middle finger hurts

The left one with the peace sign ring. I've been wearing this ring since last Christmas and haven't taken it off once. The ring of the other middle finger was my grandma's class ring. I never wanted a class ring and didn't get one either. But maybe I should have, so I could have given it to someone who I thought would like it - how selfish is that?

It is incredibly insane how we all make such stars out of people, out of ourselves for other people. It is interesting to see first impressions go down the drain, and the more you get to know someone the less you actually begin to like them... Are we/ I so lonely that we keep this up? Is there anyone else on your mind, in your eyes? Well, there is for me, and they are all out of reach, of course with time, there is potential for blooming, but time is just one of those things I don't seem to have... You are, of course, in hindsight. I love the definition of hindsight in my iDictionary - In hindsight, I should have never gone. And I shouldn't have. Here we are, back with time. I can call this or that person, but why? The outcome is the same if I just stayed home and read or wrote till I fell asleep. I could also get drunk and hang out with these faces which become blurred after a moment, and the outcome is the same: I wake up the next morning with no valid memories of the day before, and I continue on this path, not noticing that there is a wall or cliff or bump in front of me until I run into it face first. Hindsight.

I feel so guilty about some things (my finger really hurts). Mostly about the things I didn't let happen or the things that I have forced, or the things that I expected and in turn was disappointed. I feel so guilty about things that the only cure/distraction is to leave - AGAIN - start over fresh, like I never knew who I was before, and I don't, didn't, and will not. This will continue forever!

What do you know?
I know nothing, not matter how much I learn, I will still have no grasp on anything, everything, the let overs.
No matter how much I do or don't do, I'll never know. If I choose to be a crack head for years, I'll have lost those years. LOSING YEARS! I've already lost two or something. But I could have been in AFrica or Europe, but if I was there, I could have been here, being less selfish. But now I'm here, being a selfish fucking person. And they'll, my family, will never understand me so matter how much I fucking try. I feel numb right now, after work. Having to stay an extra 15 dreaded minutes, and you're getting off right now. And we're doing nothing but thinking and wishing. All the time, that's all I do, is think, wish, repeat.

"I had that dream about you again, where I stayed outside until you let me in"