Keyboard Rapeage

omg...lyke whoa!

2006-04-14T17:41:00.000-07:00

www.myspace.com/bluevinyl

i boned down with this girl last night. and this morning.

she likes the ween.

i love monday

2006-02-06T09:08:00.000-08:00

i woke up this morning in a good mood, for the first time in a while.

i woke up before 8 in the morning, when the sun actually was shining.

i woke up with out a hang over or bloodshot eyes.

i woke up having a plan for the day and the energy to actually do the things i want to.

i woke up and took a shower and put on that super cozy white oversized bathrobe that reaches my ankles and could fit two.

i woke up and ate a real breakfast that didn't involve over processing, last night's take away, or ingrediants i couldn't pronounce.

i woke up and smoked on the porch and listened to sounds besides traffic, yelling, or drunk college students.

i woke up alone in a bed way too big for me and didn't feel like a loser.

i woke up knowing that i can only go up from here.

+

real, nonreconstituted orange juice...fat free organic milk, and cereal that is made of nonchemically enhanced stuff...food that doesn't require moral compromises and science tastes great. i need to start doing this more often.

i can still get a buzz off of light cigarettes...though camel wides are akin to taking a hit...i enjoy my status as a light weight.

mens magazines are way more interesting, and have less retarded sex tips, thank god for some things.

resumes and interviews and applications are actually exciting me. i like this.

my phone battery died last night. i dig it. i haven't decided if i'll charge it again any time soon. the silence is refreshing.

i'm out of drugs. i have no plans to refill the bags and jars and boxes. i feel clean for once.

i have this urge to catch up on the last few months worth of political bullshit so i can pass by a new paper stand and not avoid eye contact with the Times.

+

i think i'm going to leave my car in the garage and go walking somewhere.

this is a rather weird feeling.

i could get used to it.

the salt of your skin

2006-02-01T11:10:00.000-08:00

i hate myself when i'm not in control.
and i do rediculously hurtful things to the people i care about.

i hate myself in the morning.
when i can see the things that i've done and how much shit i've caused..

i hate myself the next day.
when i know exactly what i'm doing and it burns me to pick up the pieces..

i hate myself for being myself.
and knowing that that person isn't good enough for me, much less anyone else.

fuck you sara. sayeth the heavens.

2006-01-27T17:52:00.000-08:00

i hate this life.

i hate what my life has become.

i hate what i have become.

i hate what i am becoming.

i hate what i am.

i hate me.

+

i also hate bitches.

who steal shit.

and get my panties in a twist.

i hate dealers.

and the things they deal.

and their dealer friends.

i hate cars for needing gas.

and gas for costing money.

and money for being necessary.

i hate california.

for being so goddamn big.

+

i hate the weakness that i seem to be wallowing in.

i hate the stubbornness that i can't let go of.

i hate the pride that makes me do idiot things.

i hate the greed that makes those things seem worthwhile.

i hate the insecurities i can't get over.

i hate the fact that i am spoiled despite my best efforts to not be.

i hate the nightmares i have.

i hate the morning for reminding me that i am not god.

i hate the taste in my mouth after everything has been said.

i hate the sounds i hear in the dark.

i hate the way i look when i wake up in a bed.
[though i love the way i look when i wake up on a floor]

+

i hate the fact that i'm wasting my time listing off the things i hate instead of doing something about them and changing anything.

i hate that no matter how much i whine i can not fix my problems, much less anyone elses, by crying in the bathroom.

i hate that my skin is so thin and the marks appear so quickly, i can not hide from myself much less anyone else.

i hate that i am torn between my head and my heart, and neither of them seems to be a good leader.

i hate that i can not buy certain things in life, that money does not guarantee happiness, that no matter how much money i spend, i will never be perfect.

i hate that i want things which i know i can never, and should never, and will never have, and want them anyway.

i hate that the paperwork is so overwhelming and the red tape so thick, and the bullshit so deep.

+

i don't want to grow old.

i don't like children.

i don't want a cute little hallmark family.

i don't want to make the world a better place.

i don't want to 'help people'.

i don't want to be something great.

i don't want to give anything to humanity.

+

i just want to fuck with your head.

i just want to make something beautiful, even if you can't see the beauty in it.

i just want to stick under your skin, for good reasons or bad.

i just want to make you think, about something, anything.

+

i hate living.

i don't want to die.

although the days when i wished i was already there are begining to pile up again.

i'm not scared of death.

i'm scared of dying.

alone.

hurting.

scared.

wretched.

wasted.

worthless.

+

why do people live lives of preservation.

why do they cut out every pleasure for a few more days at the end of it all.

why does no one seem to see my point.

if you lock the door when you take a shower. how am i supposed to join you?

2006-01-13T08:31:00.000-08:00

i'm still in bed...

i don't really get how this has happened.
is happening.
and continues to happen.

er...

yes.
it's lovely.
it's beyond nice in fact.
but.
it's me.
in bed.
accomplishing nothing.
for an extended period of time.

i haven't been to the gym in weeks.
i'm not any closer to being moved than i was a week ago.
my roommates are getting pissed with my absence.
the sheets are beyond filthy.
i feel lethargic and lumpy.
i'm restless and fidgity.

i wouldn't trade it.

but like...
wtf.
i don't think this is an existance i could continue.
i need to do shit.
like...
in the i have done shit.
kind of way.

and yeah.
the shower door.
unlock the bastard.
please?

i drive too much.

2006-01-11T18:52:00.000-08:00

oh god.
my mother.
should not ever have learned what the phrase "myspace" means.

i just informed her that someone wants to "put it in her butt".
she was flabbergasted.

+

the last 6 days have been fantastic.
i've gotten nothing accomplished.
i am in gym withdrawl.
and fuckmeintheass it's divine.

+

i <3 jaffa.

things are falling apart. things are falling into place.

2006-01-05T15:23:00.000-08:00

+

the landlord has been called.
a door will be unlocked.

posessions will be reposessed.
beds will be slept in.
inebriates will be consumed.

drives will be made.
people will be seen.
words will be spilled.

the sun will be avoided.
the covers will be covering.
dreams will be had.

finally.

+

and then.

a dear friend.

+

it amazes me, how, when things go to hell, when i fall apart 17 times, when i become disgusted with this whole game...suddenly it's over.

she's home from the hospital.
my bills are paid.
things are being repaired.
preparations are being made.

+

tasks are completed.
messes have been cleaned up.
people are being reassured.

habits are creeping deeper under my skin.

people have been called.
arrangements have been made.
things have been ordered.

+

i am content.
i am happy.
i am satisfied.
i am peaceful.
i am calm.

i am confused.

+

political science.
philosophy.
cultural policy and anthropology.
art.
literature.
history.

i miss academia.

+

how do you prefer your lemonade?

yellow and tart.
pink and sweet.
light in colour, and in taste.
over concentrated.
icey cold.
somewhat warm.

+

note to self: brownies do not like being made in muffin cups.

+

sue me

2006-01-04T20:44:00.000-08:00

apparently many of the extracurricular activities i enjoy, are not proper hobbies for a nice young girl, such as myself.

this has been brought to my attention by well meaning friends/nosy ass strangers.

since the entire two people who read this blog may or may not care about my welfare, and theirs, i thought it prudent to note what i do, in case anyone has cause to dissolve their association with my person because of something listed below.

just because i care so very, very much.

+

[1] i smoke, you will get cancer if you stand around me too long.

[2] i drink, and will most likely act like an asshole to you, or in your presence.

[3] i use recreational drugs, and have no intention of stopping my habits.

[4] i don't sleep enough.

[5] i drive too fast and endanger other people on the road with my 'antics'.

[6] i use offensive language, frequently, you may want to keep you children out of ear shot.

[7] i do not eat normally, if you have any eating disorders, i would be bad company.

[8] i am overly critical and rather blunt, i will point out your flaws, perhaps, and most defiantly the ones of everyone walking past.

[9] i listen to music you probably hate, too loudly, your ear drums are at risk.

[10] i engage in a variety of alternative sexual activities, which may offend you and your company.

[11] i dislike children and stupid people, particularly stupid children.

[12] i am selfish, and vain, and prideful, and arrogant, and narcissistic. but i really am this fantastic.

[13] i am spoiled, and despite my best efforts to not act bratty, i will from time to time irritate you immensely.

[14] i am stubborn, you will lose.

[15] i tell racist/sexist/off colour/ derogatory/ debasing/ and politically incorrect jokes, they are funny.

[16] i distrust most people, most people are not worth the paper their death certificate will be printed on.

[17] i am anal and obsessive and neurotic about pointless things, your drawers will be straightened and all of your hangers will match and be facing the same direction, clothing will be in color and type specific categorized, when you are not looking.

[18] i use too much hairspray, and utilize enough fossil fuel to put another hole in the ozone, i'm still deciding what i should name it.

[19] i enjoy lists, a lot, and will make lists for everything, including things that in no way require or lend themselves to listing.

[20] i am a grammar/ spelling nazi, and frequently do not check my own work for such errors, however yours will be brought to your attention immediately.

+

have a nice night my lovelies

pecan delight for low carb dieters

2006-01-03T07:19:00.000-08:00

new postings will be sumitted some time relatively soon.

unless i die or something similarly pleasant.

xx

she's in the bathroom. she pleasures herself.

2006-01-03T03:55:00.000-08:00

Dec 24, 2005 2:55 am
Mood: high, 1203 views

i'm not a bad man.
i swear.

+

oh my god.
what have i turned into.

+

i wonder what will become of all of this.
will me burning make you happy?

+

lets go go go.
it's time to go

+

i heard it's cold out.
but her popsicle melts.

+

if this is goodbye.
then thank you for the good times.

+

it's cause of these things.
it is.

+

watch it burn to the ground.
you'll never figure this out.

+

hey boy
hey girl
shake it shake it shake it
shake it for me.

+

i'm not a bad man.

you're so lovely.

2006-01-03T03:54:00.000-08:00

Dec 23, 2005 10:26 am
Mood: happy, 1319 views

some people.

make my eyes sting.

some people.

stop my feet.

some people.

give me a stomach ache.

some people.

are so divine.

"he's not my type"

2006-01-03T03:52:00.000-08:00

Dec 19, 2005 12:24 am
Mood: nostalgic, 1439 views

do you ever meet someone so perfectly your type that it makes you nervous.

do you ever find yourself in complete awe of another human for being so completely the perfect manifestation of your ideal .

do you ever meet a person who makes you want to jump off a bridge because you know that you've just seen perfection and will never find such a thing again.

+

what do you do when their eyes find yours as often as yours find theirs.

what do you do when their knee brushes your leg and their fingers run down your ribs and their feet kick yours in the shadows.

what do you do when they text you after you've just been escorted from their loft by a well meaning friend.

what do you do when you have them whispering in your ear and your legs wrapped around their back.

what do you do when you wake up at noon the next day in their bed.

+

i want some things.

i have some things.

+

sleep? food? fuck you both.

2006-01-03T03:48:00.000-08:00

Dec 18, 2005 9:02 pm
Mood: anxious, 1513 views

i love this starved, on edge existence.
the places i go when i havent had anything to eat in days.
except an orange and booze.
and various other things.

the stimulants.
the depressants.
the liquid.
the powder.
the smoke.

i enjoy the way i twist the walls of my mind.
and the vibration i feel in my bones.

you say i have a problem.
you say i'm going to crash and burn.
you say i'm playing with fire.
you say i'm in over my head.
you say i need to just walk away.
and yes, darling dearest, you are probably correct.

the black and blue.
the bloodshot.
the cracked and bloodied.
the scared.
the paranoid.
the sick.
the abused.

but for the moment.
the moment i'm writhing around in.
this vicious and painful moment that i so adore.

i am.
loving it.

energy?

2006-01-03T03:45:00.000-08:00

Dec 18, 2005 4:53 am
Mood: high, 975 views

my god
dearest god
of mine

the things
that floated in my head
whilst there

the voices
ive heard
from lips i know
and lips i dont

the absurd beauty
conversation and life
give in you fuckers

i need it
to burn
like the tips of my fingers
and my brain
the way it did

in the morning
night
morningnight

the bastard child

where is the ugly?

2006-01-03T03:39:00.000-08:00

Dec 15, 2005 8:46 pm
Mood: horny, 1118 views

+
_good things_

words
.shared.
thoughts
.too big.
sounds
.throbbing.
beats
.exploding.
feet
.moving.
hands
.grabbing.
.bitten.
jaffa
.cakes.
chemicals
.abused.
bruises
.inflicted.
hair
.removed.
dark
.everything.

+
_bad things_

.cocky dipshits
.slow driving
.beer
.you dying on me
{i told you i'd kill you}
{kill you dead}
{bang bang}
again
.television
{seriously people shut the fucking thing off}
.herpes
.deep fried everything
.grammer abusers
{unless you're me}
{and you're not}
{because i am}
{am i not?}
.hospitals

+

i want to fall in love. i don't want to fall in love.

2006-01-03T03:27:00.000-08:00

Dec 13, 2005 8:44 pm
Mood: restless, 1245 views

with a high heel
against the wall
kind of dancing
though not at all

writhe writhe
twist twist
your body
is a magical thing

stocking run
up to her thigh
snapping fingers
to keep the time

broken glass
bloodied lips
i spilled the booze
down my dress

from the back of the room
i saw her there
said she wants to be alone
i shouldn't dare

i'll break you
and make you
and take you
home with me

but then she noticed me
glance at her
i had no choice
but to dance with her

fate
is a tricky bitch
licking your face
with a razor tongue

the lights that move sideways
and up and down
the beat takes you over
and spins you 'round

dance he said
dance she said
dance they did
for the shadows on the wall

a hard steady beating
the sweat turns to cold
we're slaves to the DJ
and out of control

a room
a white room
a room painted black
and full of you

i watch her feet move
her hips they sway
does a hair flip
then starts to say

you know that it's sin
know it's not good
you know it's the best
you know that you will

oh my god
its my favorite song
i pull her close
and she sings along

i had the words
picked out
i had the beat
pumping in me

we can't slow down
even if we try
if the record keeps spinning
then so will i

vinyl crackles
the broken silence
a green lampshade
and you, love

she likes disco
and tastes like a tear
tells me dont stop dancing
and pulling me near

cheap thrills
ill buy them all
and paint myself
in the blood that's spilled

we've got nowhere to go
we've got nothing to prove
instead of dancing alone
i should be dancing with you

i'd love to tell you
all the things
i thought i knew
but you made me forget

this song is turning me on
the beat is doing me in
oh maybe its only you
but either way lets begin

to destroy something beautiful. is there anything so divine?

2006-01-03T03:06:00.000-08:00

Dec 13, 2005 2:31 am
Mood: numb, 880 views

Got a big plan, this mindset maybe its right
At the right place and right time, maybe tonight

push
push
push
faster
faster
faster
push
push
push
slower
slower
slower
push
push
push
faster
faster
faster

And the whisper or handshake sending a sign
Wanna make out and kiss hard, wait nevermind

i'm doing it for you
it's always
for you
you
you
in my mind
i need to make the plans more concrete
i need to make you more concrete

Its cute in a way, till you cannot speak
And you leave to have a cigarette, your knees get weak

i give it up
i take it up
then i'll give in
i'll take you in
every scar
and every bruise
i'll take them all
i'll dish it out
pumpkin pie
served on a belly turned platter

An escape is just a nod and a casual wave
Obsessed about it, heavy for the next two days

fast in
fast out
drive through love
deep fried
crispy and wet
you make me crispy
i hate you you know
i hate the taste you leave in my mouth
the taste in your mouth
my taste

It's only just a crush, it'll go away
It's just like all the others it'll go away

gimme
gimme
fucking gimme
hands up
then turned down
slapped around
gimme the palm
gimme the knuckles
gimme the bones
gimme the burn
burn
burn
burn
i want you
i want you to burn
i want you to burn for me

Or maybe this is danger and you just don't know
You pray it all away but it continues to grow

where do you come from
where am i going
to end up
where will this spill
my blood
your tears
the same shit
you know it well
ive given it up
youve lapped it up

I want to hold you close
Skin pressed against me tight

this is where the cliche comes in

Lie still, and close your eyes girl
So lovely, it feels so right

the bruises
they prove you love me
right

I want to hold you close
Soft breasts, beating heart

pitter patter
titter tatter
tattered hearts
blown straight through
making love
to the barrel of a loaded gun
the monster makes an appearance
under the bed
where we commune

As I whisper in your ear
I want to fucking tear you apart

Then he walked up and told her, thinking that he'd passed
And they talked and looked away a lot, doing the dance

hey girl
hey boy
shake that thing
be my toy

Her hand brushed up against his, she left it there
Told him how she felt and then they locked in a stare

do you think
[ever]
you can win
do you think
i havent figured out the cost
you know
it's a waste
this game we're playing
the one i'm living
the pieces we're throwing
you know its a waste
we love our waste
don't we now

They took a step back, thought about it, what should they do
Cause theres always repercussions when you're dating in school

one down
two down
three is served
in a flask
pink and soft
pour it out
the stopper goes in
and then
gasp
gasping gasps
she gasped
yes
he said
"gasp"

But their lips met, and reservations started to pass
Whether this was just an evening or a thing that would last

i'll still respect you
in the morning
promise

Either way he wanted her and this was bad
He wanted to do things to her it was making him crazy

you make me feel
sadistic
you make me want the blood
spattered beauty
a faceless canvas
a nameless target
a sweet little pull
a silent scream
you make me feel
masochistic
is it too late to switch

Now a little crush turned into a like
And now he wants to grab her by the hair and tell her

i never should have told you
i never should have gotten so tangled
i never should have given it so much
i never should have logged in
i never should have stopped the car
i never should have taken it
i never should have said that

I want to fucking tear you apart

me me me me is all you say that i care about.

2006-01-03T03:02:00.000-08:00

i think im getting soft in my old age.
what the fuck happened to all my priorities.
money.
fame and power.
lots of hot bitches.
really fast cars and super big houses.

seriously.
who have i become.

im scared of the world.
not the planet.
that scarred globe keeping me alive.
but of the people killing it.
of the corruption and the abuses and the ruining i'm choking on.

i remember one night.
hiking in the forests with my mother.
losing the trail and watching night fall.
sleeping in a hallowed out redwood.
she was scared.
i was amazed.
and the rangers who appeared under the stars.
with hot chocolate and peanut butter crackers.
how they ruined the most perfect night.
i could see and hear and taste the world.
i could run my fingertips over it.
i could feel it under me. and around me.
it was fantastic.

i'm scared of every person who has left me less than i was.
every hand that's been raised to me.
every word that's been spit at me.
i'm scared of them.
because i can see myself in each and every fucking one.

i'm terrified of all the people who've broken my heart.
because i know that i'll do it to someone.
who am i anymore.

and why do the tears come so easily.

hello morning. im not ready for you yet. please go away.

2006-01-03T02:48:00.000-08:00

Dec 8, 2005 1:45 am
Mood: tired, 958 views

Cause in my head there's a greyhound station
Where I send my thoughts to far off destinations

i took a greyhound once
to see someone
i met some of the most interesting people
and by "interesting"
i mean people who should have been aborted

i had never until that point
seen someone who i could almost guarantee
had been a crack baby

So they may have a chance of finding a place
where they're far more suited than here

i'm begining to feel restless
how surprising
i wonder if the problems
i find myself facing
are problems at all
or if i am the problem
i know i am the solution

how very self help
where is my yoga mat

i am the the fix
i need
ring ding ding
fix me please

I cannot guess what we'll discover
Between the dirt with our palms cut like shovels

goodbye i told him
and him
and him
so many hims ive said goodbye to

age
heart failure
heroin

people ive loved
loved until i thought i couldnt love anymore
and had to stop at the florists
to pick out the roses
that would die with him

goodbye

But I know our filthy hand can wash one another's
And not one speck will remain

___ and sara
against the world
its the modern love story

im burning
burning like a letter in a toilet
burn
burn
burn

I do believe it's true
That there are roads left in both of our shoes

where am i going
to end up
now that my plans
and my back up plans
have failed

how have i managed to mangle myself so
i had such potential
i had such goals
i had a 5 year
and 10 year plan
i knew what i would be doing
where i would be going
how i would be living

i knew it all

and now i have nothing
except a plane ticket
and a bank account

a new pair of jeans
and an argyle sweater
some slipons
and a white belt to take me there

If the silence takes you
Then I hope it takes me too

lets jump off this bridge
together my love
lets taste our own demise
and feel glutted on extinction

lets give it all up
and find something beautiful in the ashes.

Cause you're the only song I want to hear
A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere

can't you see you're like a book of poetry

2006-01-03T02:46:00.000-08:00

Dec 8, 2005 12:39 am
Mood: confused, 924 views

i am confused.

about something
and someone.
well.
many things
and many people.

but at the moment
someone.

+

will a piece of paper
with pretty words
fix things.

signed and dated.

+

i want something
i cant have
you wont give me
and i cant ever expect

but the half assed shit
that you are giving me
is enough
to keep me running back for more

so tell me dear
what do you want from me
and what can i do
to make you happy

+

i'll give it up
or take it up
just tell me

for fucks sake

what i have to do

+

please.

i wish i could tell my mom some things.

2006-01-03T02:45:00.000-08:00

Dec 7, 2005 6:38 pm
854 views

i just want you to be proud of me

What do you do when you find yourself at the lowest point in your life. When you’ve hit the absolute rock bottom of yourself. When you know that even though you’ve never sunk this low before, you’ll sink far lower before all is said and done. What do you say to the face staring back at you with bruises for eyeliner and lips bitten bloody. How can you justify the sickness. What happens when you feel disgust before recognition.

ill love you ‘til you don’t hurt no more

Blessed by the drink

2006-01-03T02:39:00.000-08:00

Nov 27, 2005 12:09 am
Mood: anxious, 1586 views

Hell is round the corner where I shelter

another night
wasted
earned
lost
found
spent

another night
without
full of
dripping with
and lacking

another night
gone

We're living on helter skelter
If you believe what you see

listen to her words
and his words
and their words
and these words

give me your time
and your ears
and your minds
and your hand
grimey and calloused
give them to me

Let me take you
down the corridors of my life

the answer is c
always down the line
down the middle line

given
and taken
and shaken
to hell

where have all the ice cubes gone

I seem to need reference to get residence,
A reference to your preference

I trudge

goodbye cruel world
third times the charm
hello and adios bitches
did you think i would always be there
did i think you would

perhaps sunday mornings
are saturday nights
7 grams to go

So judge me for my labour

are you judging yet?

do you know where your barbed wire is?

2006-01-02T17:21:00.000-08:00

Nov 29, 2005 5:09 pm
Mood: bored, 1423 views

this is the future sound of london

break out of your cage

[that wasn't]

+

how will i be recieved?

how will i be denied?

how will i be punished?

how will i be rewarded?

how will i be?

when it all comes to pass.

+++

so again i ask.
do you know where your barbed wire is?

+++

stop
sew me shut
beat me down
push me off
give me hell
and give it to me
once again
you know i'll love you for it

+

"hi. it's sara. your daughter..."

do you believe me

2006-01-02T17:17:00.000-08:00

Nov 25, 2005 8:39 am
Mood: amused, 1690 views

It's just a matter of time until we're all found out

run said the girl
run from the game
run said the girl
run from the pain

over the hill
and the through the woods
run bitch run

Are we growing up or just going down?

up up and away
soar like a fucking seagull?

dreams are the stuff of nightmares
this is no dream
my children

ps. can i sell my uterus on ebay?

There's a drug in the thermostat to warm the room up
And there's another around to help us bend your trust

when is the line crossed
when does this become that
when will you turn your head

hello
hello?
hello??

midnight
ding ding ring
you still want it?

yes
yes please
my god yes

what was your name again
and how much will it cost

I need to keep you like this in my mind

the burn is divine
the scars will be beautiful
i hope that in the end
i can remember

bite me until it bleeds
please
like a christmas turkey
onion sodomy

hate
hate
love
love

The best part of believe is the lie

you you you you

2006-01-02T17:06:00.000-08:00

Oct 30, 2005 10:40 pm
Mood: loved, 3603 views

I played connect the dots with your beauty marks
And I ended up with picture perfect sheet music

canvas is
as canvas does
blank
blank as the paper we're writing on

I read your musical notes with a composer's eyes
And heard our song for the first time

what melody
will you hum
when i'm laying between your knees
what song
will you remember
when we're old

My spine is still tingling, mental images of your fine tune
is what I've been nodding my head to lately

i cant get you
i cant get you close enough

Every now and then you can catch me humming
your nudity under my heavy breath

point
splash
paint
porceline

I heavily suggest you resurrect
your ancient neglected dust collector

give
give
give
take
take
take
me

If you distrust the distance
in my seldom plucked heart strings
Sit stripped before your full length

in the mirror
in the glass
in the puddle
on the ground

look at your face
look at mine
tell me why we're still here

Perform your reflection backwards
Maybe then you will understand the rhythm in my movement

i'd write you a novel
if you'd give me a page

Listen when the news is sent
Extend when the rules are bent

you dont want easy
easy tastes like 99 cent apple pie
i picked an apple
a bright green apple
and it makes me happy

I'll be waiting to take your leave
Make me a victim of your two step

dont shake that baby
dont do that honey
youre going to break
break
break me

break me
with those hipbones

Make me an apprentice of your body parts
Teach me to dance to your beauty marks

"we fall in love with the imperfections"
i've fallen and you look pretty perfect to me

I'm stepping on toes here and I don't care
It's hopeless, it's hopeless
It's hopelessness holding this openess to blow a kiss

steal
steal a kiss
on the train platform
when your feet are still dancing
and your hands are still grabbing

So close your lips but don't get pissed
and throw a fist at this vocalist
I'm not emotionless, in fact I broke my wrist
when I wrote the list of all those I miss

i promise
im trying
you have no idea
how hard
to give you everything

This is my poker face, Mister Feel Nothing

im trying to dance but my feet are missing

2006-01-02T17:02:00.000-08:00

Oct 28, 2005 7:40 am
Mood: sad, 2354 views

why do i struggle
with myself
with you
with sense

why do i resist
everything

why cant i just be
what you want me to be
what you need me to be
me

why does this burn so
why does it sting
why cant i just do it.

how did i get here?

2006-01-02T16:55:00.000-08:00

Oct 25, 2005 4:13 pm
Mood: contemplative, 2670 views

Cuffs
Chains
Rope
Bars
Gags
Plugs

Bruises
Scratches
Burns
Cuts
Marks

Leather
Latex
PVC
Vinyl
Skin

Blonde
Brunette
Auburn
Raven
Bald

These are the things I’m contemplating.
Sitting in a stuffy room that stinks of decades old texts.
Full of misinformation.
Blah. Fucking blah.

Top
Bottom
Master
Slave
Dom
Sub
Switch
Dominant switch
Submissive switch

Piercings
Inkings
Modifications
Customizations
Bimboification

Sleeping in chains
Sleeping in beds
Sleeping in other people’s beds
Sleeping in your bed
Sleeping in Sara

How did I get here?

i <3 miss k.

2006-01-02T16:51:00.000-08:00

Oct 7, 2005 2:17 pm
Mood: high, 3716 views

“lets get naked!”
“oh hello. I’m sara.”

Liquor store stop
Mini bottles
Three people in a back seat
My toes are touching the car’s celling.

Butterfly beach
Did you just lick my ankles,
Mister ocean?

“I wanna make porn”
“I freakin go to brooks”
“oh my god. I freaking go to brooks too!”

lets go home.
mmm.
okay.

Me
and her
and him
and a camera.

Welcome to the second floor.

Hello liver damage
Hello lung damage

i’m just going to kneel
on the floor
over here
by the edge of the bed

Licky licky
Drippy drippy
Pokey pokey
Fucky fucky fucky

On her back
On her kneels
On his cock.
Way to fuck my dear.

Next Wednesday?
Same time?

she said she said she said why dont you just drop dead

2006-01-02T16:48:00.000-08:00

Oct 7, 2005 12:22 pm
Mood: high, 3620 views

i dont blame you
for being you
but you cant blame me
for hating it.

friday comes.
all over my face.

employment calls.
at two in the morning.

if this is the age of aquarius.
what happened to the ford taurus?

i hate that i love.
it make me entirely too vulnerable.

i hate that i'm addicted.
it makes me far too weak.

i'm not god

2006-01-02T16:42:00.000-08:00

Oct 3, 2005 8:49 pm
Mood: horny, 3880 views

he said
he said
in lower case letters.

who
who
who
asked the girl

watch in the glass
the shiny clean glass

charlie!

so... those hooks.
above your bed...

i'm in the white one
i'm in the black one

your gate is broken.
let me in
let me in
let me in
baby it's cold outsiiide.

la lala lala

who am i
don't answer
and fa fucking la.

rule number one.
shipmates till the end

rule number two
what happens on board stays on board

rule number three
tommy boy sleeps in his own bed

what is it
with blondes
she said

he said
i said
oh my god.

I've got a sunset in my veins

2006-01-02T06:56:00.000-08:00

Sep 29, 2005 7:32 pm
Mood: anxious, 4741 views

I swear
I'd burn this city down
to show you the light

sometimes i wonder if you see every color you are in my eyes

Sitting out dances on the wall
Trying to forget everything that isn't you
I'm not going home alone
Cause I don't do too well on my own

how many people will do it
birthing their opinions
who needs what
what constitutes anything
anything at all
just to hear the words rattling around
themselves just prattling around
waiting for the sun to come crashing down

And the record won't stop skipping
And the lies just won't stop slipping

i am
you are
we will
you cant
i need
this wont
explode

boom.
dynamite.

I don't blame you for being you
But you can't blame me for hating it

circles
holes
when am i going to find a circular hole?

I know this hurts,
It was meant to

so you want to scar me?

so wear me like a locket around your throat

2006-01-02T06:53:00.000-08:00

Sep 29, 2005 12:27 pm
Mood: drained, 3775 views

I keep my jealousy close,
'Cause it's all mine

I don’t want you to see
The spots on my character
I don’t want you to see
The faults in my head
Whisper
Whisper
Whisper
I won’t tell a soul

And if you say this makes you happy,
Then I'm not the only one lying.

“I don’t…”
“I’m not…”
“I’m fine with…”
“Really, it’s ok…
“Everything will be fine…”

Keep quiet,
Nothing comes as easy as you.
Can I lay in your bed all day?

Sleep
Sleep
Sleep
Sleep away your sins
Wake and sin again
On the couch
On the chair
In the kitchen
On the stairs

I'll be your best kept secret
And your biggest mistake.

Ill keep my lips
Wrapped around
You and your words
Someday youll see the scars
Someday I’ll already be gone

The hand behind this pen relives a failure every day.

i hate chopin

2006-01-02T06:52:00.000-08:00

Sep 28, 2005 10:06 am
Mood: sore, 3021 views

“Louise? Dear, are you here?” A mad scramble was taking place before his eyes as the weary Brently Mallard pressed open his front door. “Wha..?” His darling wife was descending the stairs clasping her sister around the waist and his friend Richards was rushing forward, all of which had no apparent explanation. A scream pierced the confused air around his head and Brently looked up the stairs to see his wife collapsing against the rail as Richards nearly tackled him back against the front door. Josephine kept screaming and the crumpled body of his wife slid from between her clutching arms. “Louise!” he yelled and ran to her. But Brently was too late. “Good Gods man, what on earth are you doing here?” Richards demanded. Brently stared at him dumbly, “But I….but I live here.” Falling to his knees, the confused Mr. Mallard held his wife’s frail body in his arms. “Louise, Louise, Louise” he whimpered. But she did not return his gentle embraces. In fact, her body was already becoming cold. “You’re dead!” Richards proclaimed, “I have it right here!” Taking the paper that was offered to him Brently looked down and there indeed, at the top of a list of names was his own. Looking at the headline his breath caught in his throat. “Train Wreck Kills 102 an Hour North of London” the story was beginning to unfold. Brently Mallard was supposed to have been on that train. He even had the unused ticket in his pocket. But whist away on business, he had not been entirely faithful to his beloved Louise. Aside from having the more canals than Venice, Birmingham also had an inordinate amount of prostitutes. And although he loved his wife greatly, theirs was not an overly warm union. In fact, Brently could scarcely remember the last time he had held his wife behind their bedroom door. From the beginning, their marriage had never been an affectionate one. Although he was madly in love with the frail blonde wisp of a girl, he had always known that Louise was a distant woman at best. She was happier contemplating grand ideas than cooking him dinner, which was not usually a problem since the life he provided her with was a pampered one. His love was unexplainable; since he had first laid eyes on her at a social benefit dinner years ago he had known that he had to possess her. And that was precisely what it was. He owned her. Louise was more of a pet than a wife to Brently, not because he wanted her to be one, but because she simply refused to be anything else. Even as a child Louise had never been a warm and affectionate person. More content to sit in the corner and read a book far beyond her in years, Louise was a quite and often sullen young girl. Her beauty was angelic. A gasp of a girl with a sheet of white blonde hair hanging behind her, the pale skin of her hands mixed with the ice blue of her eyes and gave Louise an other worldly quality. Brently, love her as he may, could not get her to open up. So he had accepted Louise as she was for simply being able to gaze at her was enough. Usually. But the temptation had been to great for the deprived Mr. Mallard when he had met a vivacious little redhead in a pub one night. She was like a dream, and the girl had stayed by his side throughout the evening. When it came time to retire to his rented room, she had followed. The next few days were spent in a tumultuous affair with her and thoughts of his wife rarely crossed his mind. In fact he had missed his train because of her, and only when he looked at the bedside clock and realized that he had missed the train home did the magnitude of what he had done strike him. Brently had rushed himself from the room where the girl lay sleeping still and taken a different train back to London. This one however, took a seperate track and was therefore unaffected by the horrific crash that was being referred to by the newspaper clutched in his hands. “Oh God” he whispered. “What have I done?” “She’s dead!” Josephine was sobbing on the stairs and trying to shake Louise’s hand to wake her. But Louise was beyond any rousing. As his wife’s lifeless body lay against his chest, Mr. Mallard began to weep. He wept as a child and could not be consoled by anyone. Richards had run from the front door and returned with a doctor who gently pried the inconsolable Brently from his dead bride. “I’ve killed her, I’ve killed Louise,” he repeated over and over in gasping sobs. “No you haven’t. No you haven’t.” The old doctor tried to speak to Brently, but he would have none of the old man’s words. He knew what he had done. It was all his fault. His selfishness had killed his beloved Louise. “You haven’t done anything except be alive. We thought you were dead. The shock, the joyous shock of seeing you must have been too much for her. Louise was always frail. We knew this. It’s not your fault. It’s not.” Richards rushed words meant nothing to him. For Brently knew in his heart that he had killed her. Killed her with his sin. Finally he had proof that Louise had loved him. Her love had been so esoteric that she couldn’t express it. The world came together for Brently in his sorrowful state and the realization was almost too much for him. His wife had loved him, loved him beyond every hope he had ever had. And because he had thought only of himself, he had killed her. While his mind had been running through all of this the doctor had moved Louise’s body to the settee, and Josephine had placed a stiff drink next to him. In one smooth motion the amber liquid had washed down his throat and the bottle had found it’s way into his shaking hand. He wandered out the back door into the overgrown yard that Louise had insisted on keeping. As glass after glass slid down his throat the world blurred at the edges and the pain fell away from him. Mr. Mallard felt himself fall to his knees and weep as though in a dream. “She loved me,” he cried. Over and over it repeated itself until the syllables were unintelligible and the words had lost all meaning. And even as the pain of his loss, of what he had done left him, an ache filled it's place. His bones throbbed with a confused anger that threatened to overtake him. “I killed her.” His voice was hard now and his mind felt suddenly clear. “I killed Louise.” The near empty bottle fell to the dirt and rolled away from his shoes. Brently knew what he had to do. Walking quickly, and surprisingly straight, he climbed the stairs behind the kitchen to the second floor where his office was. Opening the top desk drawer he reached to the back and felt the cool steel under his fingertips. “I killed Louise. My darling Louise.” Tears were running down his face as his palm pressed against the wood and metal. Taking the gun from it’s hiding place he spun the chamber, assuring that it was loaded. “My sweet Louise” The words poured from his mouth as the tears from his eyes. “Louise Louise Louise” he whimpered. Mr. Mallard shook like a small child as he raised the gun to his lips. His wife’s name still on them as the barrel found its place. He could feel the cold metal between his teeth, against his tongue. The words were jumbled now, meaningless. “Louise” he sobbed as his finger tightened against the trigger and his world exploded.

gender...sex...who are you?

2006-01-02T06:46:00.000-08:00

Sep 21, 2005 5:47 pm
Mood: aroused, 1909 views

Gender: sexual identity, especially in relation to society or culture [more of a choice]
Sex: the property or quality by which organisms are classified as female or male on the basis of their reproductive organs and functions.

I am a female.
I am also a girl.
Though the two are not necessarily related.

I like men.
I like women.
I like boys.
And I like girls.

The first came first.
The second came second.
Now comes a third.

Those who play both games.
Not the wanting.
But the being.

I am drawn to that juxtaposition.

For some reason.
Is it the best of both worlds.
Or a world unto itself.
Pre-op, or post.
Each has it’s own allure.

I want to sample every combination of X and Y.
Of boots and bustiers.
I want to touch curves that have been sculpted, cut, implanted, and enhanced.
Jock straps and G strings.

I want it all.

I can't clean the blood off the sheets in my bed

2006-01-02T06:43:00.000-08:00

Sep 18, 2005 5:47 pm
Mood: guilty, 1431 views

Can I meet you, alone
Another night and I'll see you

i feel dirty.
violated.
abused and degraded.
and my hands are clean.
for once.

Another knife in my hands
A stain that never comes off the sheets

the mess and the piles.
the lists and the tasks.
too many things.
not even close to enough.
i need it all,
i need more,
i need peace.

Clean me off I'm so dirty baby
The kind of dirty where the water never cleans off the clothes

i don't know why i'm so confused.
the more i learn,
the more i understand.
the more i understand,
the less sense it makes.

We'll love again,
We'll laugh again
And it's better off this way
And never again,
And never again.

i need someone to tell me what to do.
to tell me what is right,
to tell me i am wrong.
to wash my face
and tuck me in.
i need someone to have the answers.
because i have none.

I tried,
Well I tried,
Well I tried,
'Cause I tried,
But I lied
I lied
I tried
I tried
I tried

i want to...

2006-01-02T06:40:00.000-08:00

Sep 8, 2005 5:32 pm
Mood: angry, 1797 views

abuse
attack
besmirch
corrupt
damage
debase
debauch
defile
deprave
desecrate
force
invade
maltreat
mar
molest
pillage
plunder
ransack
rape
ravage
ruin
spoil
taint
victimize
violate

you.

torture hurts us all

2006-01-02T06:37:00.000-08:00

Sep 8, 2005 10:28 am
Mood: contemplative, 1747 views

said the old lady's car.
bush
gitmo
the quran

it was obvious
what she referred to
with the circa 1970 green bug
puttering down hollister

the 'pull out of iraq'
'peace for all'
and 'tolerance' bumper stickers
made it clear

torture hurts us all

i'm beginning to wonder
if something in my head
has become unscrewed

essay submission
said the syllabus
a somewhat standard phrase

i'm truly begunning to wonder.

instead of political stife
crossing my mind

cement under my knees
bruises on my face
cell bars around me
beatings
rape
vicious abuse
is it all just a scene?

and if so who is topping whom?

i watched the circles

2006-01-02T06:36:00.000-08:00

Sep 7, 2005 10:54 pm
Mood: lonely, 1583 views

circles of hate
circles of apathy
circles of prejudice
circles of disgust
circles of fear
circles of lies
and occasionally
circles of love.

they twisted around my head
until i was confused
about up and down
and red and blue
and everything ive ever done
and all i had left
was this black spot
in the middle of my forehead

a dirty thumbprint
the barrel of a gun
a circle.

You see scars: results of my rage

2006-01-02T06:33:00.000-08:00

Sep 6, 2005 4:52 pm
Mood: nostalgic, 1644 views

i drink till i'm drunk and smoke till im senseless

i stood in the laundromat
last night
typing
listening to the sounds
that people make
when they waste time in public

staring at the background
on my laptop
and i wanted substance
badly
i wanted to be so high
i floated
i wanted to hit the floor
i wanted to be one of the beautiful people
again
i wanted to pulse

To the cage through the bars

the more control i gain
the more i want to lose

day three: i guess i'd better be good at this

2006-01-02T06:32:00.000-08:00

Aug 31, 2005 11:07 pm
Mood: crushed, 2297 views

since this is what i've chosen to do.
selfish me.
what have i done?
i did what i should have done.
so why does it burn.

have you ever licked the pavement?

perhaps this will turn into something great.
my best times.
looking back.
or at least my most productive.
have been the most painful.

i wonder if this is really the way it's supposed to be.
if everything else was a farce.
and it was all just there.
to be taken away.
so that i could turn this.
this vile throbbing in my head.
into something beautiful.

if you're supposed to have something.
it'll be there when you're ready for it.
right?
so even if you walk by the store.
and don't ever expect to go back.
if you're supposed to have it.
it will end up coming to you.
right??

3 years of this.
is so very long.
and really.
it's nothing.
we shall see.
see see see.

how the hell am i going to do this.

2006-01-02T06:28:00.000-08:00

Aug 27, 2005 10:29 pm
Mood: confused, 2605 views

delicate she said.
this has to be delicate.
yeah.
shake up your entire life.
but do it with grace.
easy.
right?

just tell them he said.
they'll be happy for you.
there is no nice way to do this.
you don't understand she whined.
but i want to he shot back.

ok.

step one.
set the stage.
check.

step two.
introduce the conflict.
half done.

step three.
build the tension.
will do.

step four.
climax.
hmmmmmmm.

step five.
falling action.
but who's going to catch me?

step six.
curtain.
i wake up looking for those curtains.

i need...

2006-01-02T06:24:00.000-08:00

Aug 27, 2005 12:56 am
Mood: exhausted, 2312 views

...to sleep.
this is rediculous.
absolutely rediculous.
i can't think about this many things.
and climbing into bed alone makes me cringe.
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
there is no right answer to this.
what the hell am i doing?
what will i do?
sleep!
i need you.
where have you gone?
this is the end of our friendship.
yup. no more will i adore you as i have.
i hope you realize what you're losing.
oh my god, if only i could sleep
everything would be better.
yes it would.
yes.

she comes.....moving up slowly

2006-01-02T06:22:00.000-08:00

Aug 25, 2005 11:31 pm
Mood: confused, 1571 views

Recollect me darling
raise me to your lips
Two undernourished egos
four rotating hips

"in twenty years we'll look back and try to figure out who was the bigger whore."
sub
slave
bottom
whore
"hush slave"

who the fuck am i?

Can’t endure
then you can inhale
Clearly out of body experience

just as things.
are different things.
to different people.
so are people.
different things.
to different people.

Interferes and dreams of flying I fit nearly
Surrounds me though I get lonely

come on barbie. lets go party.

2006-01-02T06:18:00.001-08:00

Aug 24, 2005 2:56 pm
Mood: calm, 1218 views

you can touch
you can play
if you say
i'm always yours

do you ever look at something
and see it for what it is
then go back
a week
a year
5 years later
a different person
changed
and see it new
still for what it is
but now what it is to you?

dress me up
make it tight
i'm your dollie

do you ever listen to something
and hear it how it was meant to be heard
then go back
a week
a year
5 years later
a different person
changed
and hear it differently
the words are the same
but now the meaning is something new for you?

you're my doll
rock and roll
feel the glamour and pain

regrets are funny things
there nothing really that i can say i honestly regret
but things that perhaps i wish had happened differently
though if they had
i wouldnt be this person
and is that worth it?

kiss me here
touch me there
hanky panky

i am seeing things
hearing things
finding things
in things
that i've known for a long long time
and losing the things
that i used to know
to have the things
i now have
and that is bittersweet.

make me walk
make me talk
do whatever you please
i can act like a snob
i can beg on my knees

this thing
these things
that are appearing
worming their way into my life
into everything
are things that are more sweet than bitter
and even if i can never have them
have it like i want it
like i want them
the thought
knowing that its always there
theyre always there
in the back of my head
in the bottom of my purse
scarred on the back of my hand
is somehow safe.

come on barbie. lets go party.

2006-01-02T06:18:00.000-08:00

i want you on film

2006-01-02T02:46:00.000-08:00

Aug 23, 2005 2:01 pm
Mood: experimental, 1246 views

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

i want to do a series of round, soft, curves. not the perfect curve of a breast as it slides into the ripples of a ribcage. i want the chubby hips, that spot where a pudgy tummy curves under and creates a little line, thick thighs touching from the back, soft arms that don't expose the juncture of bicep and tricep.

pubic hair, i want to do macro shots of different colors, lengths, textures, patterns. none of the brazillian, clean shaven, neatly trimmed versions. i want to see it natural.

picture a naked girl. on her hands and knees in a bathroom. puking in a toilet from a night of drinking. got it? now pull back. sit on the bed. so that all you see is her from the neck down. turn on the stereo. loudly. still looking? watch her shoulders tense, her back arch, her stomach spasm, her thighs flex, her toes curl. it's beautiful isn't it. i want it.

people fuck. obviously. they are messy and loud and vicious about it. pulling the sheets off the bed, kicking shoes to the floor, dripping lube onto the bedside table. i want the room when they're finished. still smelling of sex. i want that shadow to be my subject.

i'm intrigued by polaroids. i want you to fuck me. and let me get it on cheesy 1988 style film. the bite marks on your neck still wet from my mouth. the trail of sweat on your forearms. our hips meeting a foot off the bed. the way your eyes squint shut. my feet digging into your ass through the mirror hanging on the wall. the condom on the carpet. your hand on my stomach when you fall asleep with my head on your shoulder and our legs tangled.

sweaty bodies in a fridgid room. i want to see the steam. a scene with musical instruments. slick hands playing a piano. breasts bound with guitar strings. a body covered with polkadots of guitar picks. the marks of a drum stick.

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

yes. i have a one track mind. every comes back to sex. i see sex as the begining, middle, and end of every story. when it is absent, it is a noted abscence. there is nothing that i do, that i can not relate to it in some way or another. and this does not bother me. it is the people who see sex as a small part of their lives that confuses me. i don't understand people with low libedos. asexual people make my head knot up. it's not about the number of times a day, a week, a month people fuck. i just don't understand how sex is missing from the equation for so many people in their every day lives.

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

i want to paint bodies with cum.

i want to leave my marks on pale pale skin.

i want to see you cry for me.

i want to serve dinner on people.

i want to touch every shape imaginable.

i want to smell and taste and listen.

i want to get it all on film.

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

put away your makeup

2006-01-02T02:40:00.000-08:00

Aug 20, 2005 9:59 am
Mood: blah, 922 views

i don't know if i like words or pictures better. sometimes i wonder if im just lying to myself when i say i'm going to be a photographer. if i spent as much time with my camera as i do with my laptop...

i can play god with a camera. i can warp, and twist, and pervert the world around me. give me a computer and i can create worlds to abuse.

but with language, with sentences, with this...i am less certain of my control. am i the one sculpting the things that appear on my screen, or am i just a slave to the rules. a noun and a verb... and so on.

i can change the shape of this thing but i have no control over how it is read. it must be read a certain way.

i can change the order fo the letters but you will still read the words to be words. annoying as it may be.

maybe it's my inner switch coming out, i want to domme the pictures, and submit to the captions.

the story of a man,

2006-01-02T02:31:00.000-08:00

Aug 20, 2005 4:40 am
Mood: crazy, 976 views

a woman,
and the corpses
of a thousand evil men...

.. .. .. .. ..

i need to contrive a filing system.
being an adult type person is a hassel.
i almost wish i could go back to being a little kid.
where my biggest worry.
was whether to have strawberries.
or melon balls.
and summers lasted forever.
bare feet on grass was the highest pleasure.
and love was a simple yes or no question.

.. .. .. .. ..

now it's all credit card payments.
portfolio statements.
bills to pay.
relationships to juggle.
asses to kiss.
people to impress.
things that have to be said.
things that should be thought.
causes to care about.
issues to grasp.
paperwork to fill out.
a budget.
political correctness.
never being good enough.
for myself.

.. .. .. .. ..

you'll never make me leave
i wear this on my sleeve
give me a reason to believe
so gimme all your poisen
gimme all you pills
and gimme all your hopeless hearts
and make me ill
you're running after something that you'll never kill
if this is what you want then fire at will

.. .. .. .. ..

i wish life was simple
like song lyrics
not easy
never easy
just simple
rhyming
concise
patterned
structured
with a begining and an end.

you say
it is
i say
it isnt

we can't even all agree on when life begins
conception
1st trimester
2nd
birth

sure life begins at some point
but when do you begin to live?

and the end?
when you stop breathing
or is it thinking

schaivo
alive or not

death isnt an end
people continue to exist
in heads
in words

and theyre dead
even when they breathe

there is no exact end
we all fade into dust
forgotten and rejected
or loved and cherished
no matter
it all ends

but where

i want answers

you say
it is patterned

phi
the golden ratio
it all comes down to numbers
right?

you say
it is structured
social convention
morality
civil society

no

.. .. .. .. ..

love it or leave it
you can't understand it.
a pretty face but you do so carry on

on and on and on and on

.. .. .. .. ..

"i want to end up in south london with a bunch of nutters."

2006-01-02T02:18:00.000-08:00

Aug 20, 2005 4:12 am
1103 views

the fear.
the frustration is gone.
for now.

i know the bitch will be back.

and in her place.
numbness.
discontent.
disgust.

a sick feeling in my stomach.

annoyance.
at so many things.

myself most of all.

this bulge.
that curve.
those swells.
a smaller dip.
a tighter fit.

me me me me.
is all i ever wanna talk about.

it is amazing.
how your actions.
translate into results.
at a later date.
one last night.
perfection.

2 days later.

where the fuck.
has this shape come from.
did i look like this.
do i really now.
is it my head.
warping the reflection.

as someone is so fond of telling me.
somehow.
i think not.

3 weeks of play.
of drink.
and sleep.
and travel.
crisscrossing the country.

best friends.
new friends.

my friend.
glass and sweet liquid.
slipping down my throat.

as something else.
is want to do.
well.
did do.
may do.
can't do.
now.

shine on you crazy diamond

a conversation.
that i begged for.
the inside of my head.
screaming.

and suddenly he appears.

'oi'
'hey fucker'

and suddenly.
i can breathe.
i missed him.
on the island.
he was supposed to be gone.

oops.

not that i'd change anything.

but the boy with the sounds.
at 4 in the morning.
when i can't sleep.
and the questions keep coming.
the boy with that one eye.
though i know he has two.

"and now we say goodbye"
"you'd better mean to recoil"
"of course love"

i can breathe
i can breathe
i can breathe

thank you.

i dont remember. i remember.

2006-01-02T02:15:00.000-08:00

Aug 19, 2005 3:05 pm
Mood: depressed, 1202 views

where did this sudden explosion of black come from?

life is but a dream for the dead

laying in my bed.
talking to my grandmother.
on the phone.
telling her i love her.
thinking about her.
about my summers as a kid with her.
christmas with her.
so many things with her.
so many first things with her.

i kiss your lips again

so many things burn right now.
why does it hurt to breathe?
things were so good.
this morning.
things were so very good.
why does laying there.
in a bed that's entirely too big for one girl.
make my head scream.
looking at a bruise on my shoulder.

they're never gonna get me
like a bullet through a flock of doves

i can't stop crying.
i can't stop shaking.

no body cares. well i care.

i'm looking at pictures.
and flipping through recipts.
picking up things purchased.
everyone of them burns my fingers.
this is absurd.

they'll make you want to say so long

all i want to do is sleep.
but climbing into that bed.
thats so very similar.
to another.
makes me feel sick inside.

we'll never be the same
on your mothers i say a prayer

i want to fall asleep with someone.
but thats too much to ask.
apparantly.

are you losing yourself
i'm losing myself

Le Pastie De La Bourgeoisie

2006-01-02T02:03:00.000-08:00

Aug 19, 2005 10:21 am
Mood: jubilant, 1198 views

shared dressing rooms..
..make wonderful introductions
shared tapas
white stilletos
proper british knickers
lacings..
..and unlacing
a wolf
5th floor
please
phone books corrupted
terrid waiters
2 for 1 pitchers
make that a double?
and again
and again
where has my shower door gone?
orange-y goodness
eclairs
bruises and scrapes
canals
'i'm here with my girlfriend..
..and my boyfriend."
bikini contests
make up bags full of ?
dots dots polka dots
bright blue

fuck.
i want to go back.
i can't ever go back.
this is perfect.
look at my back.

do you know what today is?

2006-01-02T01:47:00.000-08:00

Aug 13, 2005 6:30 am
Mood: confused, 1625 views

i know what it is.
i know what i want.
i know what you think.
i know what it will be.

i think.

i know where this is going.
i know what the endgame will be.

i think.

i want things to be something that i cant have.
i dont think i know what exactly i want.
i want it more now than i did before.
i know what i dont want.
i know what i have.
i have things i dont want.
i want things i cant have.
i dont know how to get them.
i know people want things.
i know thats the nature of people.
i know i cant have everything i want.
i want this though.
i will have this.
i think i know what this is.
i cant explain why im so discontented.
i know i have to figure this out.
i know i cant even begin to try explaining.
i want to write the end of the story.
i want to stop wanting.
i want to start having.

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

fuck.
what is wrong with me?

my nose stings, my throat hurts.
my lungs feel rough.
my stomach is shakey.
my feet are tapping.
my head is throbbing.
my back hurts.
my fingers wont stay still.

i know what's wrong with me.

her: so you, some rope and a paintball gun

2006-01-02T01:45:00.000-08:00

Aug 5, 2005 7:43 pm
Mood: submissive, 2497 views

her: paintball guns
her: maybe I should borrow one
her: paintballs leave welts so I'm told
her: hehe so I hear
her: bears some research hahaha
me: that would be an interesting scene....paintballing a trussed up girl
her: hehe yes
her: afterwards might make for a nice set of photos
her: nice visual that
me: lol...yes. it is
her: so you, some rope and a paintball gun
her: haha
me: o god.
me: haha
her: well ok maybe not at first
me: lol
her: we'll do it without rope
her: haha
me: that picture...is hawt
her: yes
her: it is
me: you holding a gun
me: mmmm
her: I'm still visualizing you tied up covered in welts and paint
her: hehe

these words are exploding. head for the fallout shelter.

2006-01-02T01:24:00.000-08:00

Aug 3, 2005 3:32 pm
Mood: confused, 2526 views

A fountain of words spits from my head and overflows the cup. My mouth. Spinning and flying I can’t keep up with the violent flow. It is an ocean exploding through the dry riverbed of a stream. I can’t keep up with the things rushing out of me. I can’t understand what I mean, the sounds and the syllables that drip from me. My words are gibberish to me, but not to you it seems. I don’t know where I’m going, and I have no idea where I’ve been. All I see is the red that is my moment, my current. I can’t explain what I’ve just explained. It doesn’t make sense to me, but I can see in your eyes, and his eyes, and their eyes that something is cohesive. I’m so lost in my own crisis of words that I have no idea what color the sky is and what the grass looks like. Tell me so I don’t drown in my own eternity. My past is the future that I see reflected back in the mirror and you are the frame holding it. The way your wood curves and dances. I can’t follow the twists of it. You guide the water of my words, but don’t understand what you do. And what is it to do. I can’t do without having done and without having done there is nothing to do. Can you sin without knowing you sin? Is it still sin? If you kill and do not know it is sin, are you blameless, and if so then who committed the sin, because the sin was obviously committed. The body lying at my feet and drooling blood onto my toes tells me that it must have happened. But if I don’t know who committed it, then was it ever committed? Can I do something without having realized that it has been done, and if so then what is to say that I have not done this before and written this before and thought this before and that everything I do or say is not in existence somewhere and someone is reading it or watching it on TV as I experience it. But I’ve already done it so I have already done it and I know what the last page says before I’ve even written it, or thought of it. And if the last page is written then the first must be as well, but I have written no pages and have not even seen a book. What is a book to me, the author of this word, this thought, this thing that fountains and bubbles beneath of my surface. If I have done it and will do it and am doing it, what is there to do besides see what the last page says, although my name is signed to the bottom? The same way it is signed on the tag wrapped around my toe when I die. The John Does and Jane Does and the people that were loved, and unloved all get the same tag on their toe and all know what the tag means because they are dead and the tag means nothing to them. And if it means nothing, then to mean anything it can’t mean nothing, but it all means nothing and all means something because it means nothing and nothing is something is anything is nothing and I am so confused. Sin is like religion which has nothing to do with sin except birth it and create it and force it onto me and if I know what sin is then I must know what this body is doing bleeding onto my feet. But if I know and do not understand is it the same as not knowing because I surely do not know what this thing is wrapped around my toe. I can not get it off because I can not seem to move my hand to untie the string. I have sinned because someone forgot to tell me and what I know is that you have sinned in not telling me. And I will surely kill you unless you are the one who is my sin. And if you are the sin that you forgot to tell me about then I guess my sin is not a sin because you have sinned in not telling me you fucking sinner. I hope your sin is better than the sin that I gave to you and give to you and am doing to you. Your sin is my sin and my savior and I have no idea what these words mean they are coming to fast. And the fountain is bulging and dripping down my back like the sweat from the horse between my thighs and your wood is so curved that I don’t see where it starts and where it stops, I am so confused. I am confused. Where is the fountain, I want to shut the water off.

snogging in the monster's lair

2006-01-02T01:18:00.000-08:00

Jul 27, 2005 3:43 pm
Mood: amused, 1398 views

i am spinning.
spinning.
spinning.

on my toes.
in the dark.
out of control.
standing stark.

i have to ask.

are you afraid.
of the things.
that go bump.
in the night?

does the dark.
the blackest night.
make your body.
arch in fright?

i am spinning.
faster and faster.
the music blares.
building disaster.

i am spinning.
spinning.
spinning.

off the edge.
and into the sea.
swim with the fishes.
you and me.

braid your hair.
and close your eyes.
paint your face.
you're my disguise.

hum hum hum.
in the back guest suite.
a lullaby baby.
quick, on your feet.

so when things go bump.
and thump and pump.
and my skin is bit.
with night's sharp teeth.

on the edge.
holding tight.
watching the monsters.
and your delight.

snog me hard.
snog me quick.
i'll be your muse.
i'll be your trick.

be my little human sacrifice

2006-01-02T01:07:00.000-08:00

Jul 27, 2005 2:11 am
Mood: exhausted, 1243 views

i can't sleep.
i'm restless.
my skin feels too tight, and somehow ill fitting.
the swirl of air from the fan fails to hit me somehow.

dark bodies floating in darkness

my lullaby.
my face is smeared.
and smudged.
and i'm laying here waiting for something.
not that i can tell you what it is.
but something, i need something.

i'm on a campaign for pain

i'm feeling very masochistic at the moment.
lonliness does this.
makes me itch for a beating.
for anything. i want vicious.
i want bruises and welts and lines scratched.
and screams.
sobs and whimpers.
on the floor.
in your garage.
i want to wrap myself in violence.
in throbbing bass and the staccato of drums, or slaps.

domination. intimidation lives within these eyes

pointless conversation annoys me.
and some conversations.
are never pointless.
close your eyes and type.
and it's perfect.
just breathe and i'll be ok.
i could sleep.
for days and days.
if i could sleep without waiting for sheer exhaustion.
to kick me in the gut and push my face into the mattress.
for an hour or two.

"sleep deprivation induces a euphoria. followed by self loathing of epic proportions."

you let me desecrate you.

the only thing that's missing is a bitch like you

2006-01-02T00:30:00.000-08:00

Jul 25, 2005 7:00 pm
Mood: experimental, 977 views

hello.
good bye.

days go by entirely too fast.
nights, faster.
though when they drag their feet.
when i'm staring at my ceiling.
or at my floor.
and counting down minutes and hours.
i would kill for that frantic pace.
literally slaughter something.

"what are you doing tonight?"
-"i might go out."
-"i always 'might' go out."

i need sleep.
desperatly.
but for some reason.
when i'm here.
when i'm home.
[no. this isn't home, it's where i take a shower. and where i keep my jello cold.]
i can't.
the bed is big and comfortable.
the room, dark and cool.
silence or a throbbing bass line, jazz piano.
i have it all and it's not enough.
to quiet my mind and let me sleep.
and yet.
in the middle of the fair.
as the party winds down.
while the music screams.
i'm curled up in your lap blissfully asleep.
infuriating.

my lonliness.

"take it easy."
erm, yes, i'll do that.
i hate that phrase.
if i wanted easy.
i would be you.
well, not you.
but them.

the writhing masses.
them.
taking the closest parking spot.
and waiting for 10 minutes for an elevator.
sitting at the drive through.
and settling for a shit job and a second marriage.

fuck that.
fuck them.

friday night in sara land...or the ER

2006-01-02T00:02:00.000-08:00

Jul 22, 2005 3:12 pm
Mood: lonely, 1378 views

friday afternoon is a cruel mistress.

she's so close i can almost taste her.
surely i can smell her.
the bitch is teasing me.
i'm so close to sleep, masturbation, nonsobriety.
how can i be so far ?
this restlessness is driving me crazy.

tap tap tap.

my feet.
my fingertips.
my knees on the bottom of this desk.

she's a vicious lover.
promises you perfection.
but the girl, is never sweet as pudding.
more like a 2 day trip.
that takes 3 to come down from.

i'll pickle myself.
in honour of you.
i didn't like my liver anyways.
my lungs can sleep with the fishes.
i'm thinking my nose can go as well.
it doesn't do much for me at the moment.
ungrateful git.

theres a list of productivity.
scrawled and crumpled.
things im supposed to do.
so she can come.
come.
come.
they might get pushed onto monday's plate.
wot a gluttenous whore.

monday is a vile thing.
lazy and slow and fat.
for every rib that friday shows.
in her twisting and writhing late night antics.
monday has a corpulent limb to match.

at the moment, i'm feeling very monday.

Spice of Life Meatless Jerky

2006-01-01T23:49:00.000-08:00

Jul 18, 2005 9:57 pm
Mood: frustrated, 1519 views

i want to go away from here.
far far away.
your place.
over there.
anywhere.
just not here.

give me dreams.
give me drink.
give me demons.
give me drugs.
give me a new picture to color outside the lines on.

i want to never look back.

play with me and leave me on the floor when you're done.
just leave me on a new one.
i wonder.
how much half of a round trip ticket is worth on ebay.
how much trouble would i get in.
if i just didn't come back.
to my job.
my family.
my friends.
my school.
my life.
i really wonder.

fuck.
where is everyone.
how am i lonely.
i could be out.
i could be on my back with a drink in one hand and you in the other.
or maybe just on my knees.
isn't that what i want?
arn't i that kind of girl.
cold, cheap, temporary.
so why arn't i there?
why arn't you here?

god damn i'm lonely.

my foot is tapping.
my hands are shaking.
this isn't the picture i want you to see.
this isn't the girl i want you to know.
pretty pink and blue.
is what i want to show you.
and somehow, you're seeing the black.
you're seeing my scars.
you haven't even begun.
to know why things hurt.

.sara says: (10:30:07 AM) because somehow i dont think my mother wants to hear me cumming

2006-01-01T23:37:00.000-08:00

Jul 9, 2005 10:59 am
Mood: cynical, 2052 views

fuck.
fuck. fuck.
fuck.

i'd rather be there.
i hate here.
i hate so many things.

i want you to be nice to me.
i want you to beat me for being so dumb.
i want you to give me something to look forward to.
i want you to teach me new tricks.
i want you to force attrition.
i want you to get rid of the demons.
i want you to be the god that i pray to.

this world is making me loathe myself.
for not being enough of anything to be something.
yes.
i'm blaming the world.
shove off.
i'll blame myself for everything else.
i'll blame myself for all of your shit as well.
but i blame the fucking world for making me hate me.
no.
go back.
the world didn't do a thing.
it's people, culture, humanity that fucks it all.
i blame you america for making me insecure and self conscious and shallow.
you reward me when i'm a shitty person.
and kick me in the face when i stop playing your game.
i want to be your needle.
and pour out the poison from the inside.
i want to watch you rot underneath your skin.

me me me me.
it's all about me.
me me me me.

sleep deprivation induces euphoria. followed by self loathing of epic proportions.

use me just to make your body feel right.

it would be.
so easy.
to let go of every fucking thing.
and stop caring.
about them.
about me.
about us.
about you.
about the early morning.
and the late nights.
and the shoes and the makeup.

cars and phones.
diet soda and sugar free jello.
credit cards.
checking accounts.
pay checks.
good impressions.
referances.

it would be.
so easy to fall down.
and be the scared little girl.
at the bottom of a bottle.
lost in the smoke.
dancing with pills.
fuck.
but thats not the way it's going to work.
is it.
im going to be the girl they tell me i have to be.
and fuck.

fuck.
fuckfuckfuck.

i woke up.
drunk.
and wanted a drink.
badly.
it hurt.
that itching in my palms.
the throbbing in my ears.
i wanted a drink.
and then i ran through parking lots.
drove to work.
fixed my eyeliner.
made calls.
fixed things.
and pretended i didn't want to stop.
and find a bum to buy me a bottle.
so i could hide in the parking garage and drink until i puked.

because good girls.
don't do that.

it makes me nervous.
i thought i had gotten over the tapping foot.
the sick feeling in my stomach when i had to stay sober.
i thought i had figured out that there were more important things.
than swimming in my head.
god damn i want a drink.

i want chemicals.
and bruises.
and screaming.
and tears.
and sleep.
and dreams.
and arms.
and legs.
and you.

me me me me.
meme.
mmm.

i can't even kill myself dead.
how utterly sad.
13 year olds in therapy.
doctor visits.
too many pills.
i'm numb like a bag of peas.
and i can't even keep the pills down.

why can't i have you?
why
why
why
why
why
why do i even want you?

would you give everything...to the right God?

2006-01-01T23:29:00.000-08:00

Jun 25, 2005 12:11 pm
Mood: aroused, 2391 views

someone.
someone is teasing me.
someone is fucking with my head.
someone is amusing the hell out of me.

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

chapter VII...the struggle with the red front.
page 247. syphilis
page 249. blood sin and desecration [of the race]
page 255. sterilization of the incurables
page 257. prostitution of the people's soul

page 197. "the ally who had laid the greatest blood sacrifices on the alter...was at the end of his strength, and lay prone at the feet of the inexorable assailant."
page 256. "they submitted the individual prostitute to a medical examination, supervised her as best they could, and, in case they established disease, put her in some hospital from which after a superficial cure they again let her loose on the rest of humanity."
page 408. "a decayed body is not made the least more aesthetic by a brilliant mind."
page 413. "the young girl preferr the soldier to the nonsoldier."
page 414. "the goal of female education must invariably be the future mother"

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

piss on me to tell me love you me.
cut me wide and crawl inside.
sew me up and make it pretty.
the scars.
will be beautiful.

this is your last chance to find a go-go dancer disco

2006-01-01T23:23:00.000-08:00

Jun 13, 2005 6:30 am
Mood: frustrated, 2117 views

welcome to morning. it hates you almost as much as i do.

i wonder, do you know that you're playing with my head?
because you're doing a wonderful job of it.
really, you deserve a gold star.

steal.
steal.
steal.
rape and pillage.
steal.
steal.
steal.

electroni-indi-brit-rock.
la lala lala and lalaland.

beat me.
use me.
break me.
abuse me.
make me wish i'd never known you.
fuck me.
leave me.
hate me.
love me. j
ust get out of my head.

no one but me gives a shit.
but this thing is mine so eat it.

'but you wouldn't know that'
goddamnit.

the dreams that will not come...oh they will come

2006-01-01T23:17:00.000-08:00

Jun 4, 2005 7:28 pm
Mood: angry, 2273 views

sleep sleep sleep for the sins i have lived
and i shall dream the dreams that will not come oh they will come

they will rain down on me from the skies
the skies so filled with ideas so big they crowd the stars from the heavens
and they will rain down my dear
the dreams and the stars will stain my skin silver and black and blue
and i will dance for the moon alone in the night
alone with the troubles of the world.
and the thoughts of the boys.
the thoughts of the girls

i will sing for the children tortured by this culture
we rape their minds
and leave their bodies
'socialize' we chant
for the saint who stands in an oval of sin
and we sing the praises of the lepers

rice
rice
rice
will shower upon those whose stomachs clench
and we will swim in a sea of cake

labeled
labeled
labeled.
everything is labeled
you are
i am
he is not
who has failed
not i said the man
not i said the girl
i have failed said the boy with the crown and the trophy
i have beaten the world at its own game and failed for my success

and so it shall become that those who are too good, too strong too beautiful
too lovely to fail
become the sucesses
and in their triumph over the many
the few will turn to failure
for the many will surpass
they will eat and ravage that beauty
the absurd beauty will become the grotesque
and the vile, the sick, the twisted, and the macabre will become the norm

you are a label
i am a label
i have failed at being, because i already am
he will die
die for me
die for my label

and his blood will wash my hands clean

step into my office baby

2006-01-01T23:15:00.000-08:00

Jun 2, 2005 10:12 pm
Mood: amused, 2449 views

my stomach it sick.
it's all in my head

"busy, busy"
said the girl with the black circles under her eyes.
"busy, busy"
said the girl with the hands that shake
"busy, busy"
said the girl with the bruises on her hips
"busy, busy"
said the girl with the lips bitten red
"busy, busy"
said the girl with the chipped nail polish

someone has made an appearance.
a very clear one at that.

"lonely, lonely"
said the girl with the phone turned off
"lonely, lonely"
said the girl with the friends not real
"lonely, lonely"
said the girl with the eyes that dart
"lonely, lonely"
said the girl with the skin flushed red
"lonely, lonely"
said the girl who couldn't have him

believe me. this is your last chance

2006-01-01T23:11:00.000-08:00

May 8, 2005 3:16 pm
Mood: drained, 3413 views

tell me what you want to know.

the plastic, the paper.....pouring myself into something bigger than i thought i could dream.....nothings futile someone said.....i wish it was, i wish they were.....a wall is easier to face than a road.....can you fit me in three weeks from tuesday.....the light flashed and the bell sounded and i closed my eyes and held me hands in front of my face.....pockets in the back of books.....a ticket stub, a postcard, a bruise.

tell me im right.

i give it up.....i pick it up.....i drown myself in it.....i wish i would drown.....the rock in my hands isn't heavy enough.....i pick it up.....and give it up.....and float.

how many bodies will fit in my trunk.
if i hack them.
and cram them.
stuff them.
how many bodies can i hide.

happy day.....it's always a happy day.....plaid and polkadots.....relations and employment.....jesus did this.....we shall pray to buffet and fall to our knees for the roast prepared.....side dish full of faith.....a plate full of shit.....a strawberry on top.

tea here.
coffee there.
prove i love you.
open the can.
unscrew the cap.
prove i love you.
press the button.
turn the dial.
prove i love you.
serve it up.
wash it down.
prove i love you.
close the door.
tuck you in.
i never loved you.

im busy.....im away.....im out to lunch.....im on the phone.....im on vacation.....im not in the office.....im sitting here.

im still sitting here.

one stamp per paid beverage 12th drink free [up to $_.__]

television.....look.....look.....there.....kneel.....pray.....sell your self for the fourth rerun of 'i love 1983'.....this week.....give.....take.....pray.....pray.....pray.

strung up

2006-01-01T23:09:00.000-08:00

Apr 23, 2005 12:00 am
Mood: lonely, 4209 views

i had a dream about a scene in the rain.....there was a girl, strung up by her wrists to the low branch of an overgrown tree at the edge of not so recently plowed field.....her ankles were shackled with old chains, metal cuffs soddered shut.....it was early morning or late evening, the rain was heavy enough to soak her hair and plaster it to her skin, but not a storm.....dark hair and light skin, big eyes.....she was facing into the thicket of trees.....there was a man.....dressed in a last century style suit, vest, suspenders, top hat set down by his feet.....he wasn't from that era.....neither was she.....he was darker.....short black curly hair and big black eyes.....though he wasn't black.....at his feet, he had a pile of things, whips and floggers and cat o nines with shiny tips.....her arms were pulled up and held apartm she was on her toes.....facing away from him.....he picked up a whip and told her to count.....one.....two.....three.....she sobbed and numbered off the lashes.....he didn't bleed her.....he painted her.....occasionally coming up behind her to run his hands over this bit, or that.....leaving teeth marks on her neck, shoulder, hip.....then he turned around, and walked away.....and never came back.

im not an artist. im a fucking work of art.

2006-01-01T23:07:00.000-08:00

Apr 22, 2005 6:53 am
Mood: confused, 4093 views

i buy books to cut them up.
i steal parking tickets.
i pick up ticket stubs on the concrete.
i dream of the pages they'll create.

my rooms are cluttered with half filled journals.
journals with very few words.

i think in pictures.
i think in shapes.
i think in colors.
i think in pain.
i think in motifs.
i think in twisted circles.

if this building.
this stone building.
were to burn.
i would grab the typewritter.
i would grab the pile of papers.
i would grab the music.

my harddrive.
my camera.
my wallet.
my phone.
my drawer full of razor blades.
my empty fridge.
my little black book.
my keys.
good-bye.

There's the television.....It's all right there.....It's all right there.....Look.....Listen.....Kneel.....Pray. Commercials.

we came. we saw. we conquored. america the beautiful.

2006-01-01T23:05:00.000-08:00

Apr 18, 2005 7:30 am
Mood: confused, 4583 views

we're all living in amerika
amerika is wunderbar
we're all living in amerika
amerika, amerika
we're all living in amerika
coca-cola, wonderbra
we're all living in amerika
amerika, amerika

westernization without globalization.

i was thinking about this country's douchebaggery. the only time in this country's history where there was no foreign interventions was during George Washington's Presidency. that was 205 years ago.

when will we grow up
when will we stop dick slapping the world
when will we be the ones on our knees
when will this fall apart

compassionate colonialism

dream of pornographic priestesses love.
dream.
dream.
dream.

dot dot dot and slash slash slash

2006-01-01T23:04:00.000-08:00

Apr 12, 2005 9:36 pm
Mood: lonely, 5576 views

there is a girl.....who lights herself.....on fire every night.....gasoline lotion.....she paints the burns.....red is one.....purple is two.....stay in the lines.....she whispers.....to her brush..... there is a girl.....who reads the newspaper.....in the morning.....spilling tea.....on the stories.....that make her sad.....it is a soggy newspaper.....in her hands....how does it not fall to pieces.....she askes the headline......for the lies.....for the fucking lies.....

there is a girl.....who runs away.....from the screaming.....in her head.....she shuts her eyes.....and sings along.....to all the songs.....songs you played.....dance dance dance.....she whispers.....to the wall..... there is a girl.....who sits in your chair.....and reads your papers.....confused by words.....ideas.....to big for her.....to big for the world.....she folds and tapes.....making boxes.....to hold the things.....her head cannot.....

there is a girl.....with chipped nail polish.....pink and red and black and gold.....different nights.....different sights.....her hands.....holding that glass.....the one that you refilled.....again and again.....and again..... there is a girl.....trying to sleep.....in a set of sheets.....that smell of someone.....who doesnt live here.....in a bed.....thats entirely to big.....around the edges.....sheets you stained.....with words.....

hey shut up. [my head is going to explode. all over you.]

2006-01-01T22:53:00.000-08:00

Apr 12, 2005 6:07 pm
Mood: infuriated, 5497 views

is there something wrong with me?
[don't bother answering]
seriously.
what the fuck is wrong with me?
do i have a black vinyl sticker on my forehead?
why can't i get it right?
why can't i do anything?
my head is going to explode.

fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck

now i remember why i promised
myself that i wouldn't let people in.
that i wouldn't like someone.
that i wouldn't get like this.

fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck

how is he doing this to me?
how are they doing this to me?
how is she doing this to me?
how am i doing this to me?

fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck

he's not the prettiest.
he's not the funniest.
he's not the most charming.
he's not the smartest.
he's not the best dressed.
he's not the anything.
and i want him.
and i can't have him.

fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck

does he get what he's doing?
seriously.
does he see himself?
tell me.
tell him.
stop talking to me.
call me.
don't look at me.
do something.
do anything.
don't do this.

fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck

this is why i dont do this.
this is why im scared.
this is why i cant do this.
i dont know how to do this.

fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck

theres a new soundtrack.
you gave me a new soundtrack.
and you did too.
stop playing in my head.

please.
please.
please.

dont look at me like that.
dont say these things to me.
stop.
please?

fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck

calm.
calm.
calm.

what am i thinking.
theres a reason i dont do this.

fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck

my head is going to explode.
all over my hands.
all over my screen.
all over the floor.
all over the world.
my head is going to explode.
all over you.

somedays

2006-01-01T22:51:00.000-08:00

Apr 2, 2005 5:43 pm
Mood: contemplative, 5080 views

im waking up.....halfway through a dream.....i never used to dream.....i never used to remember.....im waking up halfway into something.....the movies that play in my head......while i sleep.....make me uncomfortable......theyre things i want.....people i want.....halfway through im kicked out.

im wanting things.....things i havent wanted in a long time.....i can taste them on my tounge when my eyes open at 4:27 in the morning.....i can feel them on my skin.....but when i look.....all i see are the patterns my sheets make.....the scars that dissolve in minutes....i want these things.....that i half remember.

something is missing......im not very good at finding a replacement.....im not even confident there is one.....theres something missing.....and not a damn person walking this campus can give it to me.....not that i havent tried.....ive failed.....im going to stop trying....and try to dream again. i woke up this morning.....before the alarm....its becoming customary....i was so confused....where was he.....where was i....what the fuck is going on....oh wait.....its just my life.....thats right.....im starting to forget which is which.

female genital mutilation.....the world bank and the ifc....wal mart.....our holdings in panama.....the columbian trafficing.....ethnic cleansing in bosnia, darfur, rowanda, indonesia.....raping babies and curing aids.....why do i bother going to class......geneology of the world economy.....hindu muslim relations on the india pakistan border in the late fourties.....why do i try to saty awake.

people are dying.....schiavo was on the front page of cnn for weeks.....a hospice in florida....feeding tubes fucked up families.....the front page....as a side note....___ car bomb kills __ injures __..... killers hunted in rampage killing of __ in ___.....they'll be gone in an hour.....replaced by the next minor tragedy.....minor.....minor.....so minor it is.....im sorry, did we just bomb a building full of women and children.....theres a feeding tube.....im sorry, did we just blow off your childs arms, and legs.....theres an old man.....im sorry, did we just kill fifty of your brothers, fathers, sons....theres a marine who shot himself in the foot....im sorry, did we..... why do i bother trying to think.....why do i bother trying not to.

hi. my name is sara. and i am ___

2006-01-01T22:45:00.000-08:00

Mar 17, 2005 3:16 pm
Mood: aggravated, 6361 views

i am a hypocrite.
i am blunt.
[to the point of rude often coupled with a complete lack of civility.]
i am a stalker.
i am a runaway.
i am spoiled.
i am honest.
[when it serves me.]
i am selfish.
i am high strung.
[though i can take care of my own strings for the most part.]
i am a slut.
i am shy.
i am demanding.
[of myself.]
i am confused.
i am a 2 am phone call.
[though i have a habit of ignoring certain numbers.]
i am on top of the world.
i am too young for you.
[so why am i tangled in your sheets?]
i am not concerned.
i am a student.
i am going to win this game.

i like it when you cry

2006-01-01T22:40:00.000-08:00

Mar 16, 2005 7:23 am
Mood: lonely, 5844 views

someone asked me what i thought of caging.

how many times have we played out the scenes in our heads.
with the strings to our limbs hidden in this farce.
pulling ourselves along the painted and repainted floorboards.
filling in the lines,
filling in the mouthes of all the people we wished would walk through doors
and climb through windows.

im more terrified of needles than i care to admit.
i pay people to slide them into me.
souveniers of steel and pictures painted on skin with the red water.
they make me cringe in my sleep
and my flesh crawl in craft stores.

cut me.
burn me.
sear me.
scar me.
bind me.
show me you love me.

every time the words drip off your tounge.
every time they fall onto my cheek.
my stomach.
my thigh.
every time you paint me with your affections and devotions.
i know.
i know you hate me.
you hate the things in my head.
the things in my heart.
you didn't think i had one did you.

i wrap my legs around you and wish the bruises would last longer.
this game isn't making me happy.
i don't speak this language.
i forgot why i came.
did i ever?

someone asked me what i thought of caging.