mAkE yOuRSelF

Any way you want to, any way you got to....

Mon, 17 Sep 2007 04:36:35 GMT

Life is a joke i'll get when I'm gone...It's definitely looking that way at this point. The plot, that's another story. I remember pissing off my doctor once when he asked me if I hear voices in my head. I asked him if he meant my concience, and he got all serious and said that wasn't what he was talking about. It's funny when you're yonge you think everything is a debate or a negotiation. I also find it funny that I even acknowledged the existence of the inner dialogue that goes on in everyone's head because it never lead me to a conclusive point before...just inner jokes and disjointed coversations with myself that always concluded my initial response to my own concience was my conclusion. In actuality, it seems to be reality itself that detaches people from this primal tool of clarity. Like as soon as you question a thought that arises, and bring it to other people's attention, it's like you lose sight of what that initial response was by questioning and analyzing it. I hate how language can become a tool for self deception when reallly the simplest answer seems to be the one that rings most truth.I think that is the one thing that seporates a person from simply doing what's right to them. It's a bit hard to sit someone down and explain every single element that brought you to the point you are at now and even if you do, people can't tell you what's best to do. That's why I come back to this notion of the inner dialogue. Ask yourself a question in your mind right now of something that's bothering you, and I bet you'll hear one clear concise answer to that problem...probably one you've heared before.As soon as you look at that answer and pose questions and alternative solutions to the one you were just given...well, that's very tricky buisness. That's also what I hate about language. Some words just sound better than others and we as people can pick and choose those based on what sits well with us.These personalized interpretartions distort history and utimately determine the quality of our experience in it. It's true, I've found that the best solution to a problem is rarely the most popular one but it is the best for you in the long run. So go ahead, be a narcisist and do what's best for you because otherwise, you're just fighting how smart you really are, and really, why would you do that?

December wil be magic again...

Tue, 21 Nov 2006 06:02:46 GMT

That is going to get more annoying every year. But why did I care and why should i care and why do I still care about something so beyond the state of anhilation that it is beyond me as to why I even sit here and wish to be back there. I do though it's like there's this tension in the air and every time it rises i get closer to bolting off and just being in that last day. It was so good..like everything and I just wanted that to be how I remembered us forever. Like in the winter when the snow had just fallen and I didn't walk in it because it was too beautiful by itself. As if it were too evolved for me to tamper with. Yes, the idealistic bullshit of my touth is my newest back up story for why I am scared shitless of losing this. But it's not like I can just rush into this as I had before. I mean, she was doing so much better without me. Who am i to fuck with that just because I took my head out of my ass and saw something I wanted to be around. It was so beautiful too..it was her again. It was like meeting her all over again....then missing her...i am so gay..ahahahahhahah...a

Tue, 06 Jun 2006 13:44:24 GMT

So it comes to my attention that people can be divided into two main categories: People that create the world around them and people who destroy it. I think they are not even categories because each person goes through cycles of each. It's like this guy once said one time when he said it. He said that people are either self deprocating or crazy....Maybe it's just the people I know though. Anyways, the point is that lately i've noticed how destructive I am in the relationships of the people I love. I know I try to deny on every level the impact others around me have on them and it hurts to see what living this way does to everyone in my path. I go around at night alone looking in car windows for something that won't dissappear at dawn but it's me that's gone in the morning. I mean, what's the point. I might aswell fuck a dog if that's what it's about but it's not. It stopped being about sex a long time ago. Now it's just all I can do to avoid the fact that I'm completely alone...I guess that's what I wanted but wants don't always match needs...like food which I probably need right now....

Wed, 23 Nov 2005 20:24:13 GMT

Patrick:
It was a kind of a party that seemed to be likely to be hosted by some rich, high class expensive university graduates. But to assume the statement above to be true would require one to fully ignore the fact that half the attendees had hair that would cause their head to look as if they had skull bone despair.
This was the first time I’ve been present at an event like this, and it didn’t seem as if it is likely to happen once more. If you’re wondering why I came here then I shall inform you that it was my girlfriend Lisavetta that brought me here. She used to work at McDonald’s with the host of the party around 7 years ago. Back then they were both in middle school. Although their friendship has been tried by “many” years, the two knew nothing of each others lives, and the only time they would see each other was on their birthdays, it was merely a case of “keeping up appearances”. And this party in fact was Lisa’s “friend’s” birthday “jam”.
Feeling uncomfortable surrounded by such, dare I say anti-tabaco-industry-eccentrics, I found my refuge in the front yard of the house, sheltered from wind only by a piece of dark fabric loosely nailed to the wooden frame of what used to be a big window leading to the front yard from the east wall of the dining room. It took me nearly 30 full minutes to light my cigarette. Fifteen minutes were spent on finding a lighter. Four minutes were spent in denial after the realization of the fact that I only had matches on me set in. The rest of the half hour was spent on trying to get the matches to stay lit in the wind. Finally the cigarette seemed to be lit and was breathing in what I believe to be the greatest elixir for discomfort.

Lisavetta:
Do I love him? Does it matter? Well so far it’s been an excellent cover up. No one suspects a thing. They truly believe that I’m in love. They think I’ve settled down. And I did, not with him though. Not with Patrick. He seems a great guy and all, rather attractive too, but my heart belongs to Victor. The one and the only Victor. He’s been my guide in life since I was 7. He used to drive me home from swimming lessons, we’d sit in his car and talk for hours. He really understood me. And there was never any question of the age difference. I was young and I just didn’t understand the concept of it all together. Some time after I’ve known him for a few years we got caught together. We weren’t doing anything illegal. I was just sitting on his lap, but when my father came in he got really angry and upset, and didn’t hesitate to call the cops the moment he saw us. Two years later I found out that Victor came out of jail. Just a few days later I bump into him at a coffee shop that my father and his colleagues went for lunch back when they used to work together.
Now a tragedy happens. But is it a tragedy? My father dies. But all that means is that now I can be with Victor for all eternity, and my dear father is not there to make me feel guilty about this pure and wonderful union. So now the person keeping a watch over me isn’t around, so I don’t really need Patrick any longer. But I couldn’t bear look at him while I break up with him, he has been a great friend, and I could never admit to the reason I was with him to him in the first place. So my obvious solution is to let it die away, and hope he is the one that leaves me.

This party isn’t really all that great, but it’s a place where I can detach from Patrick in hopes he finds something worth his time while I can spend my time with my beloved Victor. We set up a rendezvous at 9:30 in the very east guest room on the third floor of the house.

Bouncer(Archie Preieri):
All these crazy people having synchronized mental fits while scattered all over the place is rather odd if you think about it. But then you should take into consideration the fact that this party has an open bar. No. Wait. Open bars. Because this house is so huge there is a requirement for two bars located at opposite sides of each floor. Mind you there is only one DJ, spinning things no one seems to care for. I suppose these people don’t have much appreciation for the electronic scene. I have no clue as to why he was chosen to do the event, but I suspect it might have something to do with family relation to the host.

“Oh God. No. No! Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!” – came from one of the rooms which could be entered though the east corridor.

Excitement! Yes. I rushed to the corridor and knocked on the door in a rather frantic manner. Automatically I tried to push on the door, as if I actually believed that I might be capable of taking one of its hinges. To my surprise the door was not locked and flew open. I quite embarrassed to admit but it swung open so smoothly and quickly that I ended up smashing head first into the wall to the right of the door. FUCK! Oh shit I’ve made an ass of my self and there was a whole audience to witness it. I could see them smiling and hear them laughing.
The unexpected collision made me lose my guard, and not only the guard, but also my knowledge of what I was doing, and my glasses. I quickly launched at the floor and picked up the latter, thankfully they were not broken or damaged in any way. I put them on and sighed with deep relief. See my vision is rather bad, and without my glasses I’m blind as a bat. As my glasses fell off, the paranoia got the best of me and convinced myself that there were other people in the room. Now that I was standing still, and seeing properly, I realized that what I took to be “an audience” was merely the intricate wallpaper that was covering the room. I was alert once again, and could now proceed to try to make sense of what I was seeing.
In the middle of the room there was a fragile looking white female, wearing a lingerie short frilly, night gown with nothing underneath it. The edge of the “uber” short skirt of her outfit was lined in white soft fur with unknown origin. She was barefoot standing two steps away from the man on the bed. All sound and movement have left her body, she stood there as if frozen. Her eyes aimed not at the man on the bed but into the dark. She was in shock it was visible at once. It wasn’t the kind of shock you would expect in a person that just found someone they knew dead. Technically this condition is not a shock it the inability of the person in question to hear or accept the information given to them.
I decided to not question the girl yet, mostly because the chances of her being able to respond in a proper manner were slim. Yes, they really were slim to none. I heard footsteps coming from the stairs. And a cop car comes into my view right outside the rooms window. I realized that people must have also heard the scream but reacted much slower and with no actual knowledge of where the sound came from. I was the only security officer assigned to the 2nd floor of the house. Just so that you understand better, the second and third floors are not exactly the “hot-spots” of a party. And that is why I was responsible for an entire floor, plus temporary filling on the other guard’s duty which consisted of: watching the third floor while he went to use the “john”. Little did I know, the moment my buddy was out of sight, I heard the scream and felt even more obliged to see to what had happened, since id I screwed up the patrol of the third floor, I’m not the only one who’s going down.
You wouldn’t think it possible but all the thoughts above rushed through my head in less than a second. Some of them overlapping, some of them faster, while others slower, but none of them came at the same time. And every thought was carefully considered, evaluated and eventually processed and accepted. All the brain activity made me sober-up(as much as a sober person can sobered up anyways). As the footsteps grew closer I took a leap to the bed that the dead man was lying on. He almost looked as if he were sleeping. Almost, the one thing that gave away his vitality status was the whole expression on his face. Maybe it wasn’t even so much a facial expression as it was the fact that his eyelids were half open and the eyes had rolled back into his head. It was quite clear that he was dead once you saw the face, but I guess what happened was that the girl who was now in the middle of the room, only saw his face once she, how should I say this, “rubbed her body against his”. The man looked as if he in fact had been turned over after he died, as if someone turned him from his stomach to his side/back to see what was wrong with him. So I’m guessing they had a date, approximately at 9:30, since that’s when I heard the scream coming from the room, and I’m guessing that the girl shouldn’t have taken more than 7 minutes to realized that the “sweet awakening” that she had planned for her lover wasn’t about to happen, due to his death of course. I flicked on the big light in the room, and looked at the body more closely. Nothing I had seen of the man so far, had suggested any idea as to how he was killed. If I were to guess off the top of my head the way he was killed, and that is far from being the problematic part of an investigation. Tests to determine the reason for death are easily done and I could request the results of the autopsy right the next day.
Now voices were heard right outside the door of the room we were inside of. I took one last careful look at the lifeless body in front of me, just to see if there is some minor detail that I might’ve missed , while the electricity was being preserved and not one of the five lighting sources that are put into each one of the private top floor rooms. Candles on the other hand were not at mercy in this room, and actually provided a cozy feeling of comfort and warmth coming from the numerous flames. Unfortunately, candlelight wasn’t sufficient enough for me to see the body as well as I would need to.
I almost gave up on seeing any “clues” when I saw something white, like a flattened piece of cotton stuck to his sweaty cheek. I leaned in closer and saw a bit of matter that seemed identical to whatever that was on the old man’s cheek. It wasn’t cotton, it was much thinner and smooth. In fact it looked like short hairs teased into a little poof of a “hairball”. I glanced behind myself to see who it was that just walked in. I couldn’t help but take notice of the girl that to this moment hadn’t moved. My eyes involuntarily fixated on her gown, especially the very short fuzzy fur like outlining it. Something in my mind clicked, that fur outlining the skirt, it was soft, fuzzy and easily clung together. Right at that moment, I felt something in my stomach turn and I realized that the furball stuck to the man’s cheek could have had it’s origin as a part of the girl’s gown. Of course just because it looks like there was a struggle between the dead guy and his lover, during which the girl’s dress was tugged at, and not in a friendly, flirtatious way, it was done with strength and possible intend to harm.
As the police man comes in, I introduce him to the site that I’ve had some time to analyze, but as you may suspect, my dislike towards coppers stopped me from informing them of anything I’ve come up with so far. To my surprise the cops made the same connection to the girls outfit as I did. They made a crucial mistake though; they thought that the frozen girl would stay as she was: frozen. Then something none of us expected happened. The coppers mentioned the fact that the “evidence” of the white hair-like-ball connected her to the case significantly and in the most direct way. She witnessed the murder. She was there when it happened. Those last words, functioned as a trigger, the girl blinked, turned her back to the cops, and gave me a weird look that I’m not even sure she knew she meant to give. Next thing I know she was gone. Just like lightning. It’s either my time perception was skewed, or the girl got a boost of adrenaline, energy, and alertness right as she heard the coppers mention her usefulness to the case.
I got a bad feeling in my stomach. I wanted to help the girl. I understood just how it is to lose someone you know or love. She seemed so fragile, and incapable of taking care of herself. She didn’t want to be questioned; she didn’t want to be suspected, in-fact she did not want to come into close contact with the police at all. She was afraid. Did she kill him? I really don’t think so. Killers don’t freeze up as they see the inanimate facial expression on their victim. Maybe it was because she was gorgeous that I felt such deep sympathy and desire to help her. Since her current location has been a mystery to me, and it looks as though it will remain that way, the only thing I can do to truly help her, is find the real murderer, or solve the case. It’s been a long time since I had a goal in life, a real goal, and one that would not just benefit me, but also the society, or at least one other person.
By two pm I was on the 5th floor of the hospital, waiting right by the door that once opened, would splash some light on the situation. The autopsy report, oh how I await thee.

Antoine Belijo(cop):
I have more important things to do, than solve stupid crimes. When my parents told me to reach for my dream profession, I’m sure they meant all the best for me, but honestly, never let a kid choose his profession at four.
Honestly, I’d rather be doing interior decorating. It is at least something that I seem to have a flare for. No one can accessorize quite as Antoine Belijo!
Yesterday as I was doing some background search on Victor Shritzern, I came across something so peculiar, that I believe the case is about to be saved and closed. Basically, what I found out, is that the woman found standing over the corpse was not only Victor’s girlfriend of seven years, but also the woman that he secretly wed a week prior to his death. And there we have it. The girl runs away, because she doesn’t want to be in contact with the police. She obviously has something to hide. And pieces of the fur off her dress were found all over the bed, there was some struggle, and the girl is the only one that could ever explain just what happened.
Now we get to another point.
a. Victor is a millionaire
b. Victor is almost 25 years older than Lisavetta
c. Victor has been disowned by any relations he might’ve ever had, so the only recipient of all his riches could be his new wife- Lisavetta

She had a motive, she had his trust, its plain to see that she is the fortune hunting type.
So all we have to do now, is get prints of all the important documents, to prove their, marriage, and to prove that she is the one that all his money goes to in case of his death. At that point it’s not clear if she is the kind of a character that would do something so dishonest, immature and just plain wrong. And that brings me to my next point. That point is Patrick. Patrick has been known as her official boy friend for quite some time now, Everyone was happy of her relationship with Patrick. They had come to think that she got over the whole “older men” men thing and chose a reasonable intelligent boy, from a respectable family. And what could this mean? What does this part of her life tell us? Well for one thing, we know that she is very good at acting, lying and pretending in general.
Taking into consideration all the facts that we have uncovered above, it is safe to say that Lisavette was one hell of an actress, leading the double life she did. Besides her affection towards Patrick seems to have been more natural, and genuine. And if we were to assume that one of the relashioships she was having was real, Patrick would be the obvious choice.
And what about the evidence you say? The fur like matter was quite enough to incriminate her. Besides the autopsy showed large amounts of morphine in the man’s blood. Are we to say that her employment at a hospital doesn’t place her on the very top of the suspect list? The answer is negative.
It was her. It’s quite an obvious case, yet I’ve cracked it. When I come to think of it, my 20 year long experience in the police force has made me as good at solving crimes, as accessorizing.

For months now I had been hearing about Lisavette through any other source directly connected to but not of her mouth. She would sit alone and read quiety, every now and then looking up with a smile. The strange thing was it seemed too painful to to convince even herself that the life she was living was as luxurious as it appeared to evreryone around her. I know she knew I was a trusted friend of Victor but still she kept her distance from me when I had no new news for her. To talk for much time with me was to endanger Lisavette’s anonymity on her and Vincent and that scared both of us. She knew enough to know that Vincent had more to lose than herself. He had a reputation to keep and she was just making a name for herself. I felt awful when I looked at the timy beauty compose herself like a buisness man working out the best game plan and started to laugh as she slapped me quiet to get the rest of her instructions in. I would go back and fourth in this way between the two and watch them go over eachother’s heads with sideplans to protect eachother from becoming a target if news should leak. Before Vincent died he hurried me into an elevator where he pleaded with me to find Lisavette before someone else did. I wanted to sober him up and then give him a few good punches in the face for all he had become thatnight. Things had gone way beyond the point of logical judgement. He was completely insane yet grasping my jacket with complete belief that he could still keep things from coming undone. I knew Vincent before all this when his dreams were so much simpler. He wanted to climb his way to the top and found instead his own ambition could seduce socialites into giving him a ride there for free. It was intoxicating to have such an elite few lust after your every expression but not if they won’t let you go. He hated them for fighing for his time constantly regarless of his own interest in anything they said. He was a very well liked man but only because he kept his opinion to himself . Lisavette was never wanted to hear what Vincent said unless he meant it. She knew he was full of shit but never bothered to say anything. Well now he was pretty honestly experiencing a severe mental breakdown because he was sure that she would be stoned for being as pretensious as any of them were. I remember calmpy opening the elevator door and smiling to vincent who’s hair was sticking up with sweat breathing heavily while still looking at me when I bumped into a group of ladies who stared in shock as somehow Vincent managed to pull it together long enough to laugh off the insane image they had seen. I had no idea who the guy was anymore and all that mattered was getting Lisa out of there. If not for his mental sanity then hers though I doubted either of having any now. Five minutes must have passed as I searched frantically for Lisa through the sea of sleeping spectacles that screamed in rage as I pushed them into the wall faster than they could maintain enough composure to stumble back to their drinks. At one point a small redhead came up to my face and began yeling long passion filed sentences at me that were too fast to take in as her voice harmonized with the loud scream of another woman below us. I had to leave before the insanity spread to me and everyone was posessed by whatever I sawn in Vincent that night. I never found Lisavette but later on I found out uit was her who found him dead. I should have kept him with me. Friends don’t die on friends. Not like that.

Victoria:
Of course it was appearent to see upon meeting Vincent that he was well respected by his peeirs and conpelling to all his lady followers. He was quick witted and hard to make into a fool without causing a fevered argument that made all the women act like little girls that took turns prancing by. Of course I was impressed by such a man that could gather such crowds but I wasn’t about to sit back and watch the event unfold for long. No, instead I would make him realize that I was a far more interesting than any of these people that were backdrops as far as I was concerned. Vincent was a very sad man I could tell because he was always alone at the end of the night. I would hear him call his goodbyes to a dozen people as their chorus of last responses stretched out for as long as Vincent could stand . Patrick on the other hand was always lost in some deep debate with his Lisabelle as he left the party. If anyone joined in, they would taper off into a string of inside jokes between the two followed by two giggles echoing as the two entered the twilight together as they always were. This was what dear Vincent needed wether he thought he could argue or not. If he argued, even better because I never turned down a challenge. I waited outside the next night with a limo at about 3:45 a.m. when Vincent came outside smiling squeezing his arms into his chest for warmth. That’s when I saw Lisavette. I thought little of it seeing as how he usually had some whore trapsing along after him. The thing was she knew he was going to be there at that exact time. I considered giving both of them a ride and pushing the girl into oncoming traffic. No, that was beneathe me. I would win Vincent without messing a single hair on my head. I did too. There were more parties he attended that she had no idea even existed. Vincent used to come to my house when he needed to unwind and just disappear for awhile. He brought her over a few times and introduced me as his friend. Never did he call me the girl who went down on him or popped the boil on his ass after he complained like a bitch for days about it. After all I have done for him, he had the audacity to have sex with the little tramp on my bed. However, she showed up at my door half naked and dazed, I couldn’t help but take pity on the girl. I hated her but I knew she loved him. If she made him happier, then it was more than I could ever do for him. When she talked to me about Vincent, it wasn’t the man I knew. I wondered if anybody really knew Vincent. He seemed so lost at the end as if the more his lies untangled, the more he questioned what part of him was legit. He would cry in my arms but the thing about Vincent was nobody got Vincent. Not even Lisavette could have him in the end and that’s where I find my confort.

~~~~~~~~~boo~~~~~*~~~

Thu, 17 Nov 2005 15:34:31 GMT

King Solomen's Mines... Exit 75... I'm Still Alive. I'm Still alive. I'm still alive.......

I'm not dead...just a bit numb....

Mon, 07 Nov 2005 01:30:17 GMT

So there;s this little stupid neive girl who goes to her teacher one day. She has been struggling with a big issue and she knows where she feels safe. She thinks she should feel safe but she should know better. She tells her teacher while looking at the ground that she had a problem. She says being beautiful is a hard thing to be and even harder to feel. She says that sometimes she starves herself so she can look like all the pretty girls her teacher fucks. She tells him that it's hard for her to look like that because she has to be borderline anorexic to pull off the look. "There there" says her teacher who tells her it's okay to love yourself. He also says that dykes are very accepting of all body shapes, even the ugly ones. The girl is shaken and doesnt know what to say. Her teacher told her that it's okay to be ugly if you have sex with chicks...Now chicks on the other hand must look like the origional model of girl that she has presented in order to be fucked by men...See, they have higher standarda even if they beef up themselves quite nicely. Wow, says the girl. I was doing the right thing all the time. All I need to do is not eat...and see how long I can keep it going for before I stuff my face. It's like a test of will. The girl thanks the teacher before spitting in his face. You are the reason girls are anorexic.....and now for a song:

And you know you're
Gonna lie to you
In your own way

Know know too well
Know the chill
Know she breaks
My siren

Never was one
For a
Prissy girl
Coquette
Call in for
An ambulence
Reach high
Doesn't
Mean she's
holy
Just means
She's got a cellular
Handy
Almost
Brave
Almost
Pregnant
Almost in love "vanilla"

And you know you're
Gonna lie to you
in your own way

Robotic Erotics

Tue, 20 Sep 2005 16:15:01 GMT

GAAAAAAAArrrrrrrrr. I want to be home. I want to be home. I want to be home so I can fart on my rug....and eat pablum and listen to music and smoke and meditate on that. School is depressing me and my hair is being homosexual again...not that I am..I just sleep with girls...on occasion to remind myself of how much i don't like it......and she's not here.....well, she is but I have no idea where and even if i did it wouldn't matter because i'd just stare at her ass to long and she'd run away.....why do people with big heads wear even bigger white helets?..hehe..oh man

YAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!

Sat, 03 Sep 2005 23:21:46 GMT

So I go for a walk hoping to have a moment of deep contimplation and come back a better and more enlightened individual. Instead, I come to the conclusion again that I want a Will...like from Will and Grace. My vision has evolved though. Now I want my Will to work at a leather shop so he can get discounts on sleazy leather gear. Then, I want him to take measurements of me while I sleep and secretly go off to make these amazing pants for me. Then I invisioned hgim coming to my school and revealing his secret. We run into the bathroom and I put them on as the song " unbeleivable" plays. Then we roll around and spray eachother with milk for a bit untill Donna comes and asks us what the hell we are doing. Next Liam comes but he doesn't notice the pile oif shit by his feet. He slips on it and falls so hard that he shits his own pants, cries and runs away. I just added that last part now. Aren't you proud of me for being so creative? Whatever. Here's a song that sums up a lot of shit that has been going on in my head and out the door.

So I ran faster
But it caught me here
Yes my loyalties turned
Like my ankle
In the seventh grade
Running after billy
Running after the rain

These precious things
Let them bleed
Let them wash away
These precious things
Let them break their hold over me

He said you’re really an ugly girl
But I like the way you play
And I died
But I thanked him
Can you believe that
Sick sick
Holding on to his picture
Dressing up every day
I wanna smash the faces
Of those beautiful boys
Those christian boys
So you can make me cum
That doesn’t make you jesus

These precious things
Let them bleed
Let them wash away
These precious things
Let them break their hold over me

I remember
Yes in my peach party dress
No one dared
No one cared
To tell me where the pretty girls are
Those demigods
With their nine-inch nails and little fascist panties tucked inside the heart of every nice girl

These precious things
Let them bleed
Let them wash away
These precious things
Let them break
Let them wash away
These these precious things
Let them bleed now
Let them wash away
These these precious things
Let them break their hold over me

Precious ...
Precious ...

Precious Things by: Tori Amos
It's so beautiful...I think I'm going to cry...or urinate...

Tue, 02 Aug 2005 18:57:52 GMT

So I guess I could say I'm cool and you're not. Do you know why? Yeah, I thought so, punk. I'm cooler than you because I went to Marine Land...and the dolphin splashed me...and and and the deer liked me....and he didn't like you. So there.....and I have an afro and you don't....and I have herpes and you don't....unless you do in which case, don't you wish you could carry them as well as I do? No, you know what, fuck you. As in I want to have your love child. Hold me. I'm scared and the lithium is wearing off....Probably because I never took it at all...

the end

No one understands cool but me and James Dean

Sun, 17 Jul 2005 03:07:29 GMT

I hared that on the radio and thought it was way funnier than it probably is. So I went up north for a week. It was fun. Wait, no it wasn't. Okay, I'm stupid and woke up at 6:00am on Saturday. My darling mother asks me if it seems like a good day to go up north. I say it isn't because it's six-o-clock in the morning and I hate the world until at least 9. She says yes it is and I'm coming while packing before I understand what I'm getting into. So we go up north for the day she says and I figure I’ll call people in the evening to do anything but be in the car with my mom. If it wasn't for music I would have gone insane. It wasn't so bad at first. Monica (The wife of Deter the perverted German alcoholic who runs the place) tells us that there's an empty cottage and we should stay. My mother says we will stay until Wednesday while I stare at a croquet set and dead fish on the wall. We had fun the first.two days swimming and giggling and shopping. The third day I was pissed but not saying too much because you're supposed to have fun up north. It's a rule. Wednesday is when my mother tells me that we should stay the whole week because it's so very nice up there. Everything we did, we did together...except pee but it was still driving my insane. My only weapon was my Tori Amos cd that she hated and so I sang happily. Her retaliation was saying pleather every time Tori said the word leather in her song. Tori Amos does not wear pleather! She is too classy for that and it pissed me off...then I started telling her to open up her heart to love and Zen Buddhism which pissed her off quite sufficiently. We are very mature my mom and I. So just when I start to feel bad for being pissed off at everything she does, we start talking about school. She said she wasn't really listening to my teacher because his earrings and legs were very amusing. Then she says she won't go to any more interviews because my teachers told her nothing of importance. Actually, they told her that they were concerned about me hanging around the wrong people. So my well being is nothing of importance. She said before that when she was asked if she was concerned about me, she said she wasn't concerned about my life but was about my school. Thank you, mom. Anyway so the rest of the trip sucked because every day I thought about this as she pranced around and gave me a sad face when I had no intention of going anywhere with her. One good thing that happened was seeing my aunt and uncle in an art sale in town. They do art with stones and shells and such. Mostly...well all of it is stone people that kind of resemble native art. You can't really make a living at that but it was amazing for me to realize that people want rocks glued on rocks. I know there's way more that goes into it but people want these things. I remember at this art conference in Philly, people wanted my napkin with a crappy doodle on it. I never think my art's good enough but fuck; I should at least put it towards something constructive. I know I'm going to do something with my art because I have to. It just makes the most sense but I still don't know what. I mean I want what I create to have a lot of thought energy invested in it. You can tell when a piece does. Oh yeah, another good thing about up north is the ring I got..lol It's a little silver ring with shell from British Columbia in the band..And then there's a deer or elk on it. I saw zodiac mood rings that had a similar look to them but mine's cooler! oh yeah. I got shades too because I have never seen a pair that look normal on me and they do and they're my new visors because they too give you the illusion that no one can see you.

Fri, 08 Jul 2005 00:56:19 GMT

In the words of the great srhink I only went to see once last summer.."You gotta ask yourself who am I, What do I want, and how do I get it?" I don't mean what do you dream about because dreams are commercials in the great sitcom that is your life. I mean real attainable goals that you can hold onto and get to.....sooo what do I need? Well, I need a job. I need something I can get up to, look my cat in the eyes and say " Sorry, I can't pet you this morning. Some people have to work, you know. How do you think you get your food, huh? Stop looking at me like that...Say something!!!! You are so creepy." I really want to try for videoflicks because it looks like an easy going environment and on a more shallow level, there are some really fine ass motherfuckers working there. No seriously, the percentage of girls working there is .005%. I'll go on Saturday to see if David Shaw still works there so I can know when is best to hand in a resume. Otherwise, i'll just work at No Frills or McDonalds or something even though I loathe the thought of it. I mean, this is beyond the point of vanity. I need a frealking job so I can sing the independant woman song. Than I can grow big arms and beat men up for looking at me with disrespect in their eyes and say " ShaZAM!" ...or get a boyfriend. Whatever comes first. I'm really tired of playing this " I don't need no man in my life." role. It doesn't suit my complexion...or even maybe a girl I dunno. You can't say you're bi if you never try.My mommy told me that. Really? No. Oh yeah, I was supposed to come online to burn my mom "Stairway to Heaven". I couldn't get her hooked on Tori Amos but she's responding very well to Zepplin. My music preferences have changed so much in the past little bit...from alternative rock to blues to classic pianist diva tunes to the classics like Zepplin and Jimmy...then back to the Cure though I can't say I've gotten enough of their stuff yet...blah blah...stuff and stuff...think i'll rent Queer Al tonight.All I know about is it's about a gay sailor.That's enough for me.....one more night in Hollywood.

would you like some lithium with your coffee?

Mon, 04 Jul 2005 03:11:13 GMT

Summertime has arrived and the sun is shining outsede and I don't know what I'm doing living with my parents. Meh, I never know what I'm doing so it's hardley an unfamiliar feeling.Improv is a highly useful and underestimated allie. My penis hurts. Did you ever find yourself in a situation where you find yourself running after something and you keep on falling and banging up your knees but you feel fine as long as it's still in view. You make every choice on every turn as you follow this concept of what it is you're seeing and you know you should go home because it's late and it's not showing any sign of stoping but you can't see anything but it. This whole time that you set these things you do into motion you accept that you have no control over the events that take place because every action is simply a reaction to the course of the light fading in the distance. You would do anything without question just to see it for one second longer. You then take this primal hunger and label it love but never call it that. Everyone who sees you chasing nothing tells you you're insane and you should get some sleep and even though they're standing right in front of you, you can't see them because your eyes are still on the horizon. Soon you feel a cold sweat coming on and you scratch untill the skin breaks to releive an itch that just won't go away. You feel cold and tired and these shadows keep appearing and vanishing in the corner of your eyes but you still see nothing. That's when you hear a voice that matches the vision that keeps you awake and you just know everything was worth it...Sounds never stay for more than a second so you press rewind in your brain untill you realize that the person who makes this sound does not match your vision of all you thought they were so you scream and hate and kill them...Did that ever happen to you? No? Oh....want a smartie?

..................

Tue, 21 Jun 2005 03:07:00 GMT

"memory is reconstitutive not refreshable.
more like lego than a plant.
more like hope than love."

That is very deep and mystical and I am impressed by your ability to make others think but.....what the hell..lol..what am i supposed to say to that? Yes so I guess it is in our yestermorrows that we construct these next lines as they were already written in our visions of infinity... Is it unhealthy to bash everything you like? Wait, does this mean he's mad at me?...do I always ask that? Don't answer that one....

I knew this would happen......

Mon, 13 Jun 2005 17:48:13 GMT

Just as I predicted earlier when I felt like shit, it happened. Bananna Butt came...yay! How I love her and her scronny ass gangaloid self. You better not eat that chocolate bar child...or if you do, you better ram your fist down your throat until it comes up because boys only like you if you're anorexic....or at least close to that. Fucking faggotron womanizing bastard hoe ass mother fucking duck butter sucker!!!!! Yes..I hope they both die and nothing will change and I will die later a bit less happy than they were. It's okay though. There are many more like them so I will never be without my nagging need to kill certain people with my bare fists and fishing hooks...oh and happy graduation to all!! Fuking right I'm going to be there. Muahahahahah hahahahahahah ha hahahaahh haa....i'm bored...

Gaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Mon, 13 Jun 2005 16:26:01 GMT

I don't want to FuCkInG be here. This sucks large barnicle incrusted donkey penis. I want to go home right now....but...no I don't. I do not have an umbilical chord. I stay because I choose to. Do I really have a choice though? So how are you? That's splendid. Sarah, come to schoooool. This could be the single factor that relies on the redemption of a shit in the face day. No pressure, Sarah....Just come!!lol NO..I'm serious. It's so hot in here...I think I should undo a button. " No, No! Too Sexy. Too SeXy!!!!" But I must *Mexican music plays* Oh...fuck me up the ass with butter, please. In other words..Liam, come to school...I need my meds o.O...ooooH Purple Butterfly ooooDon't look at me like that...It's a movie..asian of course. It's how I like my asians.....am I racist now? I have nothing against those neeegro blacks though...I am going to shut up before I think more....

eNd

Cocaine is a HeLL of a DruG!

Mon, 14 Feb 2005 17:17:49 GMT

Remember me? I don't remember you. I hope you go to hell because I'm destined for there too.Yay! It must be true because it rhymes. Aaaaanyhoo, I haven't written in here forever and I have nothing better to do right now so what the hell. The thing is, I have been avoiding a certain topic for awhile now. That topic being me. It's bad when everyone knows what's going on but you because you don't look at yerself anymore. For the past many a month, I have been doing drugs again. Mainly, speed. From weed to speed. I think she's finally got it. Heh. Don't analyze because there is no logic. Self medication hardley ever comes with sane justifications.

Basically, I needed to come out of myself. I craved one day of being comfortable in my own skin. A feeling which is foreign to me. So, I tried to do it with sheer willpower and before long, I regressed to deer caught in headlights mentality. So what could I do to force myself out of myself? Why, speed of course. I was now so wired that I couldn't contain my true insanity. The twitching was just the side effect of fame I told myself. It worked for awhile. Then I saw Kate. More specifically, I saw Kate looking as strung out as I felt. White zombie death walking next to me made it hard to look away. But guess what? I still did.

I even Lied to the girl and told her I was perfectly straight. I didn't want her to think we had something we could feel okay about because we were in it together anymore. The thing is, we still were. I remember going home and looking in the mirrir at a mumified, red eyed version of myself and smiling as I saw more of my collar bone. It was totally justified in my mind.People were nicer to me, I could be insane and not care and my endurance was off the rictor. I was an improved version of myself slowly unravelling. I always felt sick in my head. The constant headaches and fatige.

I even illuded this fact to Sarah and that really hurts. I feel like I betrayed her as a friend in order to feel like more than I was. I do care about my friends buit I have this complex that makes me feel like I have to hide to break down. My breaking moment was when my teacher caught onto the fact that I was high out of my mind on a daily basis. Wow, talk about intuitive. Dogs could tell. I remember himasking me how I was and me saying fine as he smiled and couldn't keep it for more than a second. Then I broke down and snotted and degrated myself in front of him for a bit. It was a gloriously horrid event.

I have been going through the process of coming off of the stuff but it hasn't been easy. The emotional and physical effect crashing has on me makes me want to just take a bit more if for nothing else than to level myself off again. Even though this experience has caused me to have countless breakdowns and ackward conversations about how fucked things are, I feel good for it. That sounds so bad but I wouldn't have had the conversations and detachment from ego by the humbling experience of being cut down to size by the truth. Also, I have learned that I am way stronger than I give myself credit for. Now, it's time to get off my ass and fight for something more than the ego or vanity. The truth is out there so now all I can do is fight for my life...Fight untill I fail and when I do, I'll get up again because what else do we do?...personal pep-talk hour...I feel so lame but sometimes ya just gotta...anyways, I think it's time for a cigarette. One addiction at a time.......

Mon, 13 Sep 2004 16:10:37 GMT

My head feels like it is going to explode from pressure and I can barely keep up with the no paced pace of Cindy's class....but I'm having such a good day anyways! Does this make sense? Nope! I mean,I swear to god I'm on drugs right now but I'm not....but I am...but I...brain is pulsating...jaw justcame unhinged...what is good health? East York = best....me geeeeeeek

Tue, 07 Sep 2004 13:36:15 GMT

So I spend my whole life watching people express with raw emotion their burning hate for one another. I would think this odd but "The Bundey's" are playing in the background and it comes to me. This is the truth behind all families. Parents don't want tio be married. They want someone to vent all their hatred onto....right? Well, suprise, suprise...my parents...now are splitting. My dad was going on about how I am just like my mom and I'll be fucked forever if I listen to her and don't see this christian shrink lady's cemenar. Anyways, I start to get as mad as I am around Kirsten when she starts because he is literally coming right up to me if I don't listen. While this is going on, the most intense scene in the Butterfly Effect is playing. I.Now.Feel.InSaNe...First I start singing to drown him out and then I fully freak on the guy...I'm not degrating him like he does to me every time I don't do what he wants...I'm just telling him everything he is saying is as effective on me as church prayers...meaningless chants that I have heared so many times, they lose all sense of meaning. Anyhoo, he goes on with this yelling random insults untill he leaves the next day because he can't be late...ever..He was going to miss my sister's birth to go to church..anyways, as soon as he was gone, we took off....and the next day....and the next day...Okay I must stop now because I'm still so pissed at him and he's not even here. It's weird how people can control your life when they are not even in the same city. This whole entry is more than enough reason to become a feminist dyke...I mean, If I have a relationship like that of my parents...I might aswell kill myself now

My family....are we ready to go here yet?

Tue, 27 Jul 2004 02:16:54 GMT

Okay, so today I wake up. I feel great. I'm singing in there morning and I didn't even have coffee. I have plans to go downtown and take it easy. Just whoever will come and me. Then comes in my mom. Okay, every once in awhile my mom will come up to me in the morning and say, " So, what are we doing today?" Then if I want to do something else, she pleads with me and laughs when I tell her to stop and does it more pathetically. Now I'm thinking oO(How do I tell her nicely that I want to do my own thing?)At this point, she mentions the hotbox cafe. She hints that she wants to go with me. I'm thinking this is hilarious but so wrong. "Hey, everyone! Watch me convert my mom into a pothead!!" Well I told her I'd show her it anyways.Not go in..I'd just show her. Anyways, so we go downtown and I talk about hitting on gay men and men's penis' and she tells me to be quiet because we were on the subway...I never notice these things though...and whatever...she laughed. When we get to much music, my mom goes to show me where my sister got her tattoo because she's looking into getting a tattoo. This is news to me. She checked out prices and everything. So my mom can't find the place, so I introduce her to New Tribe. We look at tattoo's for a while and she decides on a butterfly (monarch) and makes the appointment that day......being today. While we're waiting for my mom's appointment, I show her the free movie-viewing place up by Paramount. We watch a drama about this Native Indian family. The father has a big cancerous growth on the back of the neck and the wife cut it out. It was pretty realistic. The tumor looked like a white gelatin spider. This disturbed my mother because it made her think of getting her tattoo...it just disturbed me because I felt bad for the guy. She had to reach into his flesh and rip this thing out because Indians are hardcore when it comes to home medicare. These girls next to us were watching a cartoon of a naked woman flying up to the camera and just when all you can see is her bush, the movie freezes...They had to go and ask for help..It was amusing.
~So we go inside the room where my mom is going to pump ink into her like she was a human permanent marker. I am more scared than her at this point...My mom told me later she was meditating through the whole thing. When the guy starts, she says it feels like bee stings. Ahh bee stings......That's not cool. Anyways, when my mom was done, she was shaking. I thought she was going to faint and wanted to get her to the couch. She said she was just cold but no! She sounded weak, she was shaking, her face was trammeling and she didn't even know later it was when I told her. She's still hardcore Native Indian style though. She never even flinched when she was getting it done.......and Kirsten was there.....Wow, I suddenly don't want to write anymore...Well there is nothing more to that. I just saw her but that was enough to piss me off for 2.5 seconds because I has wassabiiiiiiiiiii

I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay. I sleep all night and I work all day.

Fri, 23 Jul 2004 02:15:08 GMT

I have been watching entirely too much Simbad lately. The show is terrible. Today, medusa said " I'm somewhat of a clairvoyant as well as a vengeful monster." Like, why do you have to state that you are something that everyone knows you are? It's okay though..I watched the whole show anyways because Sinbad was in it. He didn't fight enough today. He used mirrors to deal with death eye rays and that sucks because I wanted to see some sweat....lol...go Sinbad! Sinbad is the deterioration of the Xena series show. Xena kicked ass too. I think everyone in the world knows she was a lesbian. Shut up...her protege was queen of the amazons. You do know amazons hacked their tits off so they could shoot a bow better....well it's true. In other news, I have decided I have to go on a road trip spectacular in which we shall live like roadies for...however long it takes to get to Mexico. Sarah knows what I'm talkin' about.Oh I just found out where my sister's wedding might be...either Mexico or...ElSalvidor!!!!Either way I know I am going to trip out when I realize EvErYOnE speaks Spanish...and looks Spanish...and is Spanish..and...I think I know why I wasn't born Spanish. I'd have a crush on all my cousins....incest...Best way to make someone in your family creeped out. Just utter that word...

In every dreamhouse a heartache....and every step I take.....

Mon, 14 Jun 2004 22:24:37 GMT

No, I'm not in a bad mood. I just wanted to bring up "WonDerLaNd" again because I watched it five or six times and I'll watch it again because I can. Fucking guy slept with 14, 000 girls..or legend goes. No wonder he was a cokehead. How else could he keep up with his penis? I felt so guilty for watching that movie the....third time. See, I was so charmed by this guy when I watched him work his stuff....and I loved hearing him say baby every 15 minutes. He was good at what he did. I even excused him for every crime he comitted because I felt so sorry for him. He wasd constantly being reduced to a little kid....the thing is, it was ALL an act. he could turn it on and off at will. He did get fucked over by the people he met but like he wouldn't and didn't fuck them over in a flash himself. This guys lack of morals didn't compute though at first because he was such a smoooth criminal....and he reminded me of someone I know so he got extra points by association.

In other news, Kirsten is fucked up. She is going around the school destroying my image to anyone who will listen all because I told her that she manipulates me. She does...she fucking thinks she can do ANYTHING TO ME BECAUSE SHE'S SO CEWWT...sorry..I got passionate there. Anyways, it's desgusting the way she made me validate her every second so she could feel loved and me feel....this big---> .
Watch her read this and chase me with a pen. Now her new game is to be extra nice to anyone I know and to totally ignore me and it's lame because....She's basically doing what I did to Wily. I tried so hard to rock his world so I could get his attention. I'd lash out at him because I was just so frustrated and eventually...I pushed him away. See, that's the thing. I really don't know if Kirsten just wants to wreck my world or this is her way of trying to get me to talk to her. I mean, I know what my motives were when I did things like this but I don't know If I can get inside Kirsten's head....or if I want to. See, at this point, I don't even want to talk to her because I can see myself just exploding. I mean, when she threatened to kill me, I felt this like intense hate build up in me and I know she's just talking shit but I don't know what I would have done. I know any nice feelings about this girl were totallt destroyed. She's such a shit that it's actually infuriating....so much so that I don't wanna talk about her anymore.

So I saw Preston on the weekend. I probably shouldn't have been surprised seeing as how he called in the morning but it caught me off my guard. I remember seeing some black guy and thinking..okay, that can't be preston. Not every black guy in grange park is Preston..but it was. He's a really nice guy...Aquarius...and he actually knows how to treat girls....and he's a headtrip to listen to. he can go off on any single point and really be very illuminating in general. he also makes hip hop. He said from an early age, it was how he got his thoughts down. He was giving out demo tapes and I felt bad because I didn't have any money to get one bit I'm sure I'll see him again.....That one thing about Preston. He's so godamn nice to you that he actually makes you feel bad even if you did nothing. I mean, he chilled with me for the whole day when he could have told me to go off now with my weedies and smoke with someone who gives a fuck but he didn't....he took me to show me the weed cafe and then out for drinks and okay this doesn't sound like anything special and I bet you just think he's some stoopid pothead but he IsN'T! He's fucking smart so shut your mouth! He also isn't afraid to say what he thinks which is always hot. I mean..the guy has a voice and doesn't let anyone push me around and it's kinda gay but..I feel really safe when I'm with him. Like how he wouldn't let me walk on the outside of the street becuse only hookers do so he said and also so I couldn't get caught up in any road rager's path. It was nice in a cheesy movie gone gangster type way.

Oh, I also had a dream about Preston. Well, at first I thought it was this Capricorn guy I met and I was all excited because I'm on this big Capricirn fix lately. Anyways...it was crazy..there was falling off the bedness...and then after, we were walking with my mom and flirting. For some reason I rammed his ass with my head though. Yeah, I dunno..take from that what you will. Anyways, my mom asked what the hell we were doing and I said playing and this Aquarian guy comes up and says it's an Aquarius thing to the guy I was with and they smiled and then so did I thining they were just saying that Aquarians are very playful. Now they look at me like " Oh, you don't get it...ya think ya do, but ya don't...foo!" Anyways, when I woke up I finally clued in. It wasn't the Capricorn guy in my dream because he is very not an Aquarius....so then I'm thinking....Preston!!! See, sometimes in my dreams other people represent someone either I don't know or don't think about. K, I just met Prewston so I think about him...Well, alot now but before I rarely gave him a second thought....anyways, that's my story..Now, does anyone care? I Do!

This one goes out to the one I LoVe

Wed, 09 Jun 2004 13:15:33 GMT

Here, this is just for you. I hate that girl Noel. She's such a tit flashing olf fart fucking skankoid. Every time I see her, I want to shit all over her face and shove it up her nose so all she can smell is my ass. She's always staring longingly into the staff room and it's so retarted. I mean she just sits there with her eyes...those big, blue eyes...and her lips...always slightly parted...like this...mmm...and she smells so...fuck it, I cannot lie. I love Noel. I have sex with her all the time but she never appreciates me. She just rolls over and falls asleep. I miss the days when she used to talk to me all night and conclude she was insane for talking to her breasts. But I love her...we both love her. Even though sometimes she forgets to shove her head into us or pokes us too hard or wears tight shirts so we can't see...we still love her. You see, the more you hate the more you love, children. That's the moral of today...ask anyone in an abusive relationship. They'll back me up on this...so everyone bend over, shove your tits in your mouth and just suck...There, feel the love? Now cry because you're all alone and you have to suck yourself to feel love and it's just your love that you already had so you gain NOTHING....
the end =)

Here we go here we go here we go....

Mon, 07 Jun 2004 13:22:31 GMT

Alright, so it appers someone has beef with me. I'm guessing it's over Liam and Jordan. I'm guessing this person likes them too and is trying to make me feel like shit for being just like them. It's like...half the school likes them. Why doesn't this person go up to and yell at every girl in the school for talking about either and they'll find that most of them will take it personally because it will be true. Everyone will want them and nobody will get them except for the elite few who meet them on a drunken day. It's just, I knew this whole livejournal would be a huge mistake. You can't even speak your mind in this strange world. It seriously is it's own world and out of nowhere come these people secure in their secrecy who say things that they would never say if I was standing in front of them. I mean, if you wanna go say nasty things to Liam, be my guest if it will make you feel better. I'm sure he'd love it anyway. It's just I don't get what else this person's problem is except for the fact that I like men. This really isn't something one chooses though. You're either drawn to somebody or you're not. I happened to be very drawn to Liam. Before I came to this school and entered that room, I didn't care wether I died or lived. In fact, I wished someone would speed up the process and kill me before I tried to stick it out another day. I had nothing to look forward to. I was stuck in a house that I hated and I had nothing in me to change it. I was in the fucking hospital at one point for overdosing on ephedrine. So when I came to this school and found a reason to want to get up, I did and it wasd like rising from the dead. Yes, I have Liam to thank for this. He made me care about life and look at things differently....and, yes, I did notice he was hot aswell. He just is. He can't help it and neither can I. What I'm getting at is fuck you for giving me shit on the one thing I have to look forward to at this point.

"I'm not gay...I just like her boyfriend."

Tue, 18 May 2004 15:36:31 GMT

So I sit here in class again sticking my hand as far up my ass as I can to see how much I can pick out. I already know my day is going to suck big large bull testicle. Someone's being an asshole and ignoring me so he can really go fuck himself at this point because I don't want to right now. What? He's where? FuCk YoU!! Don't mess with me like that. I'm not in the mood. What is your problem? No I am not on my period. I just wish someone would say something nice once in awhile like, oh, I dunno," Wow, I see your ass has grown to momumental proportions." or " Yes, I think Orlando Bloom wants to have sex with you aswell...would you like the rest of my spliff?" These are standard things but who shall humour me today? Whatever..it doesn't even matter..You know I used to have this friend awhile back. He was a good friend. He sorted out this fucked up shit i'm spewing out at you right now and made sense of it somehow..I'm still not sure at all how he did that. I never once had reason to be pissed at him...and like all things too eerily perfect to exist, it exploded in my face and I don't talk to him anymore....I guess this is growing up....fuck it..i'm going for a smoke.....

ahhh..but do you have a gap between your teeth?

Mon, 03 May 2004 16:18:54 GMT

So I tell my friends to like they guys I like and when they don't , I get insulted...When they do like them, I want to kill them. I make no sense. Why can't everyone just get along and not want the guys I want? I mean, competition is inspiring but I go crazy in the process. Well, at least I have my driving shades on. Now I just need a car and a good c.d. Yeah, ya know why I wore them...well, I do at least....I hope Sarah's okay. She's not here yet. If she caught my cold...well, i'll just say she didn't at this point in time....blah blah blah...meee wanna go home...I'll give yous all a real report on what's new later but for now I must.....again go for my fix....mua hahahahahahahahahahahah...

>^-^< >^-^< >^-^< >^-^< >^-^< >^-^< >^-^< >^-^< >^-^<

don't tell me not to go too far because I already did months ago.....like a hoe....letting go of all I ever did know for just one.....sniff