i'm ashamed of all my somethings

i really can't keep doing this.i degrade myself to the point of utter and total self-hatred.i replay things that never should have happened over and over again in my mind until i have to close my eyes, shake my head, and breath out hard pushing the memories out as the salt in my tears burns the edges of my eyes.trying not to get sick all over myself.i don't like hating myself, but i am deserving of it.i just want to disapear.

god-i am so sorry for not listening to you.i know this is you breaking me.i am sorry that i have to be brought to my bleeding and broken knees before i get the message.you never stop giving, you never stop reminding me of your love, and its as if i laugh in your face and walk away telling you i can handle it, when really everything i touch without you burns me and usually ends up exploding in my face.all my efforts to make myself clean leave me putrid and filthy.it really is growing up time.my life up until this point has been a funeral procession and it is time for me to finally accept it and die to self.

the only way out is through

i wanted to drive by your house today. just to pass by and say hi. but i was sure that if i did all the memories would overwhelm me, rushing out of my mind, fogging my vision and tingling all the way down to my fingertips and feet, making it impossible for me to continue steering or otherwise. i would pull over to have a good cry, the one i haven't let myself have since i came home for you.i even made myself stop at your funeral, i couldn't let the saddness take over because our friends needed something else from me then. perhaps next time i'm out that way i should just go by and get it over with.

what can i compare you to? my favorite pair of shoes?

rain, rain, don't go away. come again every day.

i had the strangest longing for children today.i don't know if its genuine or just maternal instinct.so many people i know are having babies.i've learned of four or five pregnancies within the last couple weeks, so perhaps i just have baby on the brain.

your hips are bad

the quaking aspens outside my bedroom window turn gold this time of year. their ivory bark and aching branches remind me of skinless, bony hands. they desperately grip handfuls of pure amber flakes, waving them for my entertainment when the wind blows. it makes my chest ache, just about everything does these days. if the daylight is just right, and i squint my eyes to certain degree it really looks like a hundred skeletal hands, holding a thousand flakes of flawless gold, shivering in november's bitter breath.

yesterday my head hurt so badly i wondered if my brain was finally disinegrating.fed up with all the torture i subject it to.i lay upside down on my bed.bare feet on my pillows,eyes inching toward the window sill.i imagined my brain leaking out through my nostrils, slowly at first and then faster as my nasal passagways were torn open by the torent.my pajamas and bed clothes were soaked in cerebral fluid and eventually my whole head emptied out.i wasted a few minutes of this daydream wondering exactly how much fluid my brain would amount to. a pint? a gallon? i opened my eyes with a clear view of the door and wondered who would find me. i imagined myself still alert and breathing, but in reality if my brain seeped out my nose holes all bodily functions would cease.i wondered how long it would take them to determine the cause of death or recognize the sticky fluid soaking my clothing, as my brain.liquified.

i want to rake a monumentous pile of leaves and jump in it.allow myself to sink down endlessly, to hold on to that feeling of falling i sometimes get before drifting off to sleep.or use to get, before i stopped sleeping without aid.it would be glorious if the pile caught fire.not burning me up or anything(i have problems, but no current death wish) if only for that burning smell i live for in autumn.the addictive scent of wood and the droppings of fall all aflame.what an evening that would be.

i was involved in a brief conversation with several superiors today.they said they wouldn't trade anything to be my age again.they said it gets better, that you find some peace.because its not about looks (it can't be) or your memory (you have none) its about your heart, i don't believe them for a second.i want to, but i can't.i just don't see the next step.i see my future, any idea of getting married, or whatnot as so far off, like it will never actually happen.similar to the thought of graduating high school when you're in eighth grade.in my mind my wedding will be like playing barbies, just pretend.and i'll be terrible at it too because i never owned a single barbie in my life and never really got the big idea.





i am unsettled.people should know better than to dick with my friends.

from where i'm standing

last night was magic.

i love doing things on my own. i know people, especially americans, think its strange to go to dinner, the movies, or out for coffee alone, but it is honestly one of my favorite things to do...ever. i borrowed a friend's car and took off for oakhurst. now i know it isn't exactly the thriving city of my youth (or dreams) and lacks a certain amount of culture, but i made a date out of it anyway.

my first stop was the grocery to get a few neccesities and of course cash my humble check. second, since i was craving it, i went to get sushi at oka. i had a wonderful shrimp tempuri roll and some green tea ice-cream, as well as a diet coke to prove my americaness. i do love that kind of pop. i sat at the bar because its my favorite place to sit. i really enjoy watching them make my food. i was served by kyung jay, who told me his name was "john", i told him there was no way that was his real name. he said i couldn't pronounce his real name, i told him "try me" and i got it right the first time.i am one of about three people in oakhurst who know and can say his real name. for some reason talking to him made me very sad at times and it struck me as odd that he was a very korean man making a very japanese meal, but he was lonely and friendly. he struck up conversation about anything and everything he could. where i was from, what school i went to, how old i was etc. etc. in a round-about yet extremely obvious way he asked me out. i left with his number (i didn't ask) and the pride that comes with making a new friend all on your own. i'll never forget it.

after the interesting encounter and delicious meal at oka i took off to the video store to pick out two movies i wanted to see. it was great not to ask someone what they might be interested in watching. i walked straight up to the counter asked for the films i wanted, was pointed in the general direction, picked them up without a single qualm and payed nine dollars for my weekend.

next to last stop was starbucks. i would have gone to zanders, but its not open as late and i was craving a chai tea latte. there were a lot of "scene" kids there as usual and i could tell they weren't sure what i was there for. i probably looked like i was trying to infiltrate there inner circle, but once i lit my cigarette and took out my book, i think they realized i couldn't give two shits about what they happen to be doing at that particular moment. i really was there for myself. i read several chapters and enjoyed myself fully. they played good music. some tracy chapman and phil collins, both of which reminded me of my childhood. it started to get cold so i decided to hit the gas station for fuel and a box of other neccesities. i talked to the girl behind the counter about piercings...for the third time. she's a nice girl.

i wonder if she thinks i'm a nice girl...

"i miss your smile..."

i can't even write anymore. nothing profound or even remotely good is coming out of me right now. i feel like a lathargic sack of shit and am not really sure how to change that. everything about me feels weighted down. especially my eyes and my brain. i've accomplished a lot today, but at the same time i feel like i'm moving in the absolute slowest of slow motions.

i am caged. no car. no phone. no paints. euthanize me.

i know i've said it before, but i can't stand myself. i want to stop feeling like this. i mean i know how i sound. just pathetic. i know. self-absorbed. i know i am. i just can't pull myself out of the pit this time. and that's the honest to god truth.

i really wanted to delete my last post because i think it sucks, but then i told myself i wouldn't have erased it if it was in my journal because its what i was thinking about at the time, therefore i shouldn't be allowed to delete it or say it sucks because its just a silly to-do list and no one cares anyway. just my thoughts.

coffee and peanut m&ms taste very good together. the spill canvas and bright eyes are getting me through the day. i wonder what south dakota is like. i wonder if its very different from north dakota.i wish my computer wasn't being a stubborn ass and i could scan forms faster. i wonder if anyone that knows me would describe me as a "cold-hearted whore." i suppose i've been both, but not at the same time i don't think. i feel like explaining that my definition of a whore is much less than what most people associate the word to. but if you want to think of me as one anyway, i've given up on caring. i wonder if anyone could love me enough to have me staplegunned to their side all the time. i couldn't. the last two questions come from song lyrics. i'm not twisted enough to come up with them on my own. not today at least, although i do have my days. i've been found attractive by more people in college than i think i ever was in high school, why is that? do guys' taste mature? or are they more willing to settle in the looks department? i'd like to think that their taste just matures, but in all honesty maybe they just realize that barbies don't always make for interesting companions. curvy and neurotic women are much more entertaining. ha. i make myself laugh. i like joy. i know she will be one of the few that takes the time to read this and i think she should know how i feel about her. to sum it up, i have a "friend crush" on her. i am not a lesbian. despite the jokes and how much my gay friends and i touch eachother, joy. ha! but anyone who is honest with themselves has had a "friend crush." it happens when you enjoy someone so much that you desire a close, but completely platonic relationship with them. i have a "friend crush" on joy. just thought she should know.

the day is coming to a close. i want to stare off into space. or at a wall. really i want to paint, but i don't think that is going to happen. i'm going to go on a month long painting frenzy when i get back to my supplies and cheap canvas. i'll end up reading, getting distracted, trying to read again, perhaps bumming a cigarette to calm myself down, staring into space or at a wall, or at the blank ceiling above my bed, and waiting for a phone call that will never come. maybe i'll watch a film. one that can keep up with my thoughts. its been so long. i want to love my life again.

i'll be the moment when you put it all together

i want someone to be that for me, but i am afraid.

today is one of those days when i feel like making to-do lists, actually this happens most days.

things i need/want to do when i get home:

get a job that helps complete my internship (the county commisioner's office looks promising)
celebrate christmas and my birthday
enjoy my family
start classes again (i am so excited for this one)
sign up for vocal lessons
and a dance class (strictly designated for my enjoyment)
have a consistent quiet time
talk to and about god
have fun
sleep
go to more shows
love people (even the ones i don't want to)
exercise (a lot)
stop using so many "( )" to explain the unsaid
paint more
take more vitamins
keep reading
continue discovering good music
enjoy just being
keep my nails painted...maybe
write more
stop worrying about whether people like me or not

i wish you out of the woods

its funny how my thoughts can spin in exhaustive circles for days and then all the sudden i can't find the words to describe a damn thing i'm thinking or feeling. i think i got over the apostrophe thing. it still bothers me, but i realize its pretty pointless. i still refuse to use one for "its" though. just doesn't flow for me.

after i finished my last entry however, which i promptly ended with "i need to clean my ears," i started obsessing over precisely that. it was fruitless. i clean my ears every day after i get out of the shower. apparently this isn't really good for you, but it makes me feel better. if i forget, i worry about ear wax and if anyone will see mine. i'm aware with as much as i clean my ears there is no way its even visible, but i still worry. i also worry if me talking about it disturbs anyone or makes them think i'm gross, but i'm not sorry if it does, really people its ear wax, we all have it.

i've become someone i don't like very well. anxious and self-absorbed. wanting to bend to the needs of others before my own, but selfishly incapapble. even talking about how i can't, makes me seem like an awful person, and by saying i'm an awful person makes me even more of a self-absorbed, self-pitying, narcissist. i've always been painfully self-aware and i suppose its just catching up with me.

on a completely random note, i've been thinking a lot about the names i'll give my children if i ever procreate. i don't know why really, well there was the play this weekend ("baby"), and of course my grandmother discussing how we children were named while we visited, so i suppose that might have something to do with it. anyhow i decided i want them to have names with substantial meaning. i want them to have names that are all their own, both first and middle, (meaning they aren't named after anyone related to them) and the only name not their own, being their last, as it will come from their father(assuming we don't take mine, because i have considered it, its a good strong irish name so why not?) i want their names to come from books, songs, art, and places that have had significant impact on my life. i want to be able to read them stories of which they are a part and sing them songs that make them feel as though they were written especially for them. of course i may never have children, but if i do i hope god provides me the wisdom and energy to instill in them a love and knowledge for and of art, music, literature, people, places, and right relationship with him. i want them well educated starting at an early age and filled with the knowledge that they can do whatever they are moved to. i don't care if they are all-star soccer players, or if they'd rather draw all day, as long as they are healthy and reasonably happy (lets face it no one is happy all the time, especially teenagers, and really what would life be without some amount of dicontent? makes you think more) childhood is lonely and i hope to be a refuge for my children, emotionally, spiritually, artistically and the like. they will always be given room to be complete individuals. i guess all i really know is that if they ever come into exsistence they will be loved.

perhaps someday i'll make a list of names i like and you'll have to forgive me as they are mostly celtic names, i'm partial.

insanity is relative

some times i fear i really am losing my mind.my thoughts spin in futile and unrelentless circles until it feels as though my head would explode in to a million tiny pieces.some times i wish it would.my mother would say "you make yourself crazy," maybe i do.my father's answer is most definately medication.i don't think he aims for me to walk through my twenties void of feeling,but its all he can think of to help me.can you make yourself crazy?there i go again i just verbally assaulted my own mind after writing that sentence.in order to be gramatically correct i should have posed that question as "can one make themself crazy?" but for fear of sounding far too hoighty toighty i chose to be incorrect and then berated myself for doing so.yet i allow my self to write its(without an apostrophe)when meaning to say it is.told you i was crazy.although i can justify this omission with the fact that i'm not really a big fan of apostrophes (').i really enjoy the written word, just not particularly the symbol. perhaps in the future instead of inserting the symbol where apostrophes are used i'll just write out the word. instead of it's it would be it-apostrophe-s.that could prove to be fairly exhausting and would most likely irritate plenty of people,but atleast i would sleep better.ok, honestly i'm not always this neurotic.sometimes i just obsess and today is apparently a prime example of me obsessing.

back to the question of whether or not one can make themself crazy.i think to an extent this is true,but don't (don-apostrophe-t) time,circumstance,and genetics have anything to do with it?i know this has progressed within the last few years(time),i've (i-apostrophe-ve...ineedtostopthis)been through a few things that would make a person crack(circumstance)and honestly i am blatantly aware of the fact that there are some loons in my family(genetics).am i making any sense?i don't think it matters.i doubt anyone is even reading this.i wouldn't(it was hard not to spell it out again,but i'm working on it)if i were anyone but me.not that i really like reading my own words,but sometimes its fun to marvel at how my neurosis has taken over.

all of this idiocy aside.i really do wonder some times if something is wrong with me.i guess in time i will figure it all out.in the meantime i hope i'm lucky enough to find someone who finds my paranoia endearing or atleast bearable.and i think i have.now its up to me not to royally screw it up.(i really wanted to use the "f" word there, why did i stop myself?) for fear of offending someone or for want of being "good?" if i had been speaking i would have just up and said it, that is of course unless i was in the company of someone i thought i might truely offend.or maybe not so much offend(when is that ever odd for me...)as cause them to not like me.i would never stop liking someone for cursing or doing something i don't do, but i have this constant and incessant fear that hardly anyone else wants to show me the same amount of grace.other than god of course.i hope.

i need to clean my ears.

same clothes as yesterday

fell asleep on the couch last night in the same clothes i'm wearing now.thanks to a kind soul i didn't freeze.i woke up five minutes before i was to be at work.slipped on my shoes,brushed my teeth,grabbed my favorite coat and stepped out in to the rain.i love days like today.i don't feel good inside,but i feel better than i would if it weren't raining.

sporting yesterday's accoutrement and old mascara makes me feel like a lush.not that i had more to drink than a coke last night.but it brings back memories of waking late,(or not going to bed at all)tripping in to work chewing two pieces of gum in an attempt to cover up not only the fact that i hadn't brushed, but also that i probably didn't know where the hell my toothbrush even was.something about those days was so empty and i'm grateful that although i'm wearing last night's make-up i am not suffering the indecencies of a hangover and the hollow feeling i often had the "day after".

i feel somewhat silly for creating this thing,but i know well enough i need somewhere to write.the endless stack of journals and lose papers i continually try to hide somewhere safe is becoming somewhat of a burden and a liabilty.i wrote something yesterday and once again have nowhere safe to keep it so i suppose it will be my first of many poetic attempts for just about anyone to see...

"out my window"
i watched an old man
playing basketball today
limbs more numb and brittle
than they ever use to be
but he tried and broke my heart
as random strangers often do