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!