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(dig a little deeper)

[18 Nov 2011|02:59am]
[ mood | weird ]

I love Louis C.K. and Crispin Glover and Mika and Ginger Tea and Christmas lights and baths and Guinness (I'm not sure that's how that's spelled) and pulling my eyelashes out and my eyebrows and Kali and smoking and avocados and taking a good long piss and walking fast and with purpose and with music and Bill Callahan's voice and the view from my window (all of them) and my armpit hair and Ira Glass and dears and Breaking Bad and violins and mint chapstick and interesting mugs and catholic saints and absinthe and pencils and Horror movies and twangy guitars and green apples and Fiona Apple and Stephen Colbert and lavender and alleys and Pacman and bleeding and

I don't get it. We're so concerned with how great we are or are gonna be or may never become... We're all gonna die. Why do we need other people to think that we're special? We're not. I have as much desire to live as you do. I can't help it. The people that go through with suicide... those are the strong ones. They know where they're going... they know how to get there... and they do. They just go.
And even at this very moment I'm having wandering thoughts about who I'll show this to. Who would appreciate these words of mine... HAH. Who gives a shit? Sometimes I feel the pull to do something purely based on the idea that someone will give a shit. Someone might think I'm, like, a cool person.. or something. And won't that be nice.

Okay... actually, I think I have some kind of weird twisted complex where people actually like me but I think they're in it for themselves or... something. Something weird.

We're all gonna die.

... And not like the old folks we see in movies. Not like the fuckin' Titanic or 9/11. We're gonna die ALONE.

(dig a little deeper)

Venus as a... [15 Apr 2010|02:24am]
Boy... I have had so many dreams that you dominate.
As a girl, I see how I get carried away.

(dig a little deeper)

... Then There Was A Silence You Took To Mean Something ... [25 Jan 2007|04:29pm]
[ mood | flat: unbubbly ]

I've been very much inside of myself lately.
Sick and producing nothing.

A few nights back, I fell asleep listening to Joanna Newsom and woke up listening to CocoRosie.
I felt pleasantly disoriented upon waking. For a moment, I wondered where I was. Until my eyes unblurred, and many little green lights pierced my sleepy veil.
(Thank you Kasyface).

Everything has been so quiet lately... aside from my relentless night coughing, night gagging, night sniffles, night vomit. Nights are full of restlessness.
However, these things are beginning to slow.

Last week, my grandmother's apartment burned down.
She got out unharmed. Few things were salvaged...
An old tool box, a bag full of photographs, a molar, a box of coins...
How the photographs were not destroyed is... unexplainable.
My mom found the molar, and gave it to me.
It's slightly burned and abundantly creepy.

(3 switchblades | dig a little deeper)

New [15 Sep 2006|03:43pm]
[ mood | optimistic ]

The first happy-weather I've felt in a long time arrived today.
It seems to be affecting everyone... seems to have placed everyone in high spirits. A long awaited breath.
I woke up earlier than usual and watched the ducks from my balcony... swimming in their lovely, sludgy ocean-ditch.
On the way to work, I waved to the kitties lounging in the park...
Work feels like less of a burden today.

I remain happy... and optimistic.
My apartment feels more like home lately than it ever has before.
I'm not trapped... I'm not smothered... I'm not afraid.

I have this nestled suspicion that the coming season is going to be a grand time. Inspiration peeks... I await its peak.

(1 switchblade | dig a little deeper)

...We're All Gonna' Be Just Dirt In The Ground... [11 Jul 2006|01:55am]
[ mood | n o t h i n g . ]

I find it pretty silly. I find it pretty sad.
How we let ourselves get carried away with the most ridiculous things.
There is an emotional uproar. There is a battle and a storm. Right over our heads, dear, it pounds.
I'm not phased.
I've come to expect it.

I've been ridiculous.
I've been hurt and I've been bitter. I've been all sorts of things.
I refuse to be those things now.

Overall, I am sorry in my way.
Only because I didn't see this coming sooner.

Overall, I know those are things I had to feel.
These are lessons I had to learn.

...Call me stupid, but I miss him. I don't hate him. I couldn't. I wouldn't.
I've read the hateful rants. I've felt that cold wall pressed right to my face.
I don't mind.
What I felt was something true. He was my friend.
That can't change. No matter how many awful lies are spouted out about me.

This is my first journal entry in a long time... it's rather vague, I realize.

I'm not happy.
I'm not sad.

I spent some time with my mother tonight.
That was a little overdue.
5:38am... and I wonder why I can't get up on time for work in the morning.
I've spent quite a bit of time staring.
Everything blurs, my knees start to ache...
Yet, I still can't pry myself away from dull consciousness.

The sun rises.
Sleep will clutter my eyes if I let it.
I'll start on that. I need to.

Abrupt end. Here it is, and there I go.

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Papa John Says... [11 Jan 2006|10:51pm]
[ mood | i ate bamboo. ]

It's a good day in the bowel neighborhood.

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Back-Track [27 Nov 2005|09:41pm]
[ mood | reflective ]

On January 17, 2005 I made an journal entry    (something to live up to)....

... I feel this is a nice time to reflect.
I will see Interpol.  I did that.
I will stop smoking. I did not do that.
I will get my license. Steadily on my way to that.
I will discover new music.Thank you Kasy. Thank you Perry.
I will spend as much time as I can with the boy. (If He ever stops going to LA!!)  Done, I suppose.
I will read a book all the way through. 'The Perks Of Being A Wallflower'.
I will pay more attention to poor Sweeny. (He's eating his neck off again) Sweeny died.
I will write in a journal again. I have.
I will meet His mum. (i'm assured that she will like me). I did meet his mum, she's such a sweet and strange lady. I don't know if she likes me.
I will paint. I haven't painted.
I will wear the clothes from my downstairs closet that I've neglected for three years. I wore some.
I will give my mother a gift. Sadly, I haven't.
I will not lose my best friend. I did not.
I will make some new friends? I suppose I did... Most of them did not last.
I will learn some French. Blegh... I didn't do that... too lazy, I suppose.
I will buy a camera. My mum did.. and I'm the only one that uses it. I'm still waiting for my Canon Powershot G5.
I will drink more water. I love water.
I will make Him feel comfortable. I've learned that you can't make anyone feel comfortable... And he still seems uncomfortable, at times.
I will give Kasy her Christmas present before the year ends. Yeah, I did that.
I will not do theatre again. (perhaps next year) An Adult Evening With Shel Silverstein was the last show I did. Good place to stop, I feel.

I would also like to ride a train (I rode a bus, that's close enough), see snow (I'm waiting), buy a violin (le sigh), and go to Korea (hah, right)... but those things just seem a bit far-fetched at the moment (no shit)... So, I'll leave those for next year. (I no longer want to go to Korea... I would still like to ride a train... and I think a violin will come as soon as I have my whole "car situation" straightened out).

Yes, also, NEXT YEAR (2006)... I will spend New Year's with "Him"... (I've decided) (perhaps).
I'll drive us to LA for Christmas (because I WILL have a license (I certainly will), and my car in running condition by then (Done. My Ford Granada has now been replaced by Auddie Maximillia Bot (1986 BMW) and we'll visit our families and all that bullshit (can't want that. Perhaps his family, but not mine), and it will all be grand (I have it all here in my mind).
This feeling of being the only one who can't seem to hold a relationship together will be set aside (it still remains)... I won't feel like I'm on the outside (I still do). I won't feel completely overwhelmed with jealousy when others embrace (I don't so much anymore).

I do have this feeling that my libido will remain dormant. (eh).
He puts a pulse to my innocence. (He still does).

This is gonna' be a good year... Now that you're here.
I'll be 20-years-old in 41 days. Strange.

(2 switchblades | dig a little deeper)

Etchings. [15 Nov 2005|12:55am]
[ mood | here. ]


Right now, I really want to use a pencil.
Honestly, when was the last time you used a pencil?
I almost forgot how great they are.

While I'm here, I guess I'll say that I feel like I'm on the brink.
Always on the brink of something.

I feel the need to do something drastic (again).

There's something that's somewhat disturbing to me about trying to understand things.
(Although, I try so desperately to do so everyday).
Magic doesn't exist, if you're convinced that you know the answers.

...I don't know why flowers make people happy. I don't know why it's 1:11am. I don't know why I'm thinking about Kasys eyebrows. I don't know why Jeff Buckley died. I don't know why I want to use a pencil right now. I don't know why my winamp-randomness is playing only Nick Cave tracks. I don't know why I miss Perry. I don't know why Talk Show Host is still my favorite song ever. I don't know why I never dust my furniture. I don't know why I smoke so damn much. I don't know why I save corks. I don't know why I stopped shaving my armpits. I don't know why I feel like crying when Colin Meloy says "hot dog". I don't know why I hate leaving messages (but I sometimes do anyway). I don't know why I still think about cutting myself (but never do). I don't know why I don't remember my dreams as vividly as I once did. I don't know why Charles Manson sang. I don't know why Hitler painted. I don't know why I named my car Auddie Maxamillia Bot. I don't know why I love sequins.

Hours have passed. I've talked to my mother in the time that has passed.
Molestation. Family. Work. Travel. Birth. Music. Men. Art. Sex.
... The sun is coming up.

Goodnight sweet consciousness.

(3 switchblades | dig a little deeper)

... The Morning After ... [06 Nov 2005|02:53pm]
[ mood | Sunday. ]

So, I feel that NaDruWriNi could have gone a lot better than it did.
I spy 1. 2... 3 empty bottles of wine. Also, a half empty bottle in the refrigerator... and a half empty glass at my bedside.
I honestly don't remember writing most of what's writen... and I've fought with myself to leave it posted.
 I did delete my "please forgive me" post... since there's nothing to forgive. 
   I drove to the nearest 711 to buy cloves. By myself. Auddie was nice to me and didn't die. It was a lovely thing. The weather makes driving seem like a sort of therapy.
No music, dull sky, windows rolled down, slightly hungover, and I'm in my ugly sweater that reminds me of oatmeal.
Today will be nothing special.
  ...What is it about Sundays? Everything is so quiet.




(dig a little deeper)

The End Of The Madness...Drunk Writing Death. [06 Nov 2005|01:00am]
[ mood | ravaged. done. ]

Imagine this...

Drunk. Mum and father... (never married... not well aquinted).
Perhaps you could say she was "date-raped".
I didn't meet my father until I was 11.
I concider him shallow. His family, In my eyes, is fake as fake can be.

"Big-mouth strikes again" ....

I scurry happily to my rattling refridgerator... it feeds my need.
I drink. Consume. It's what life is all about.
Consume, and then TRY.
Try to be accepted. Try to be normal. Try to be an angel.

When I was young I wanted to die, but I didn't know what it meant.
When I realized what death was, my body gave out on me. My breathing pattern was never the same. When I think about breathing, I think about death. This breath is precious. (and lost) (never to come again)

Sparkelhorse feeds my soul.

I believe this is the end.
Drunken. Seems like a dream. (don't look down on me) (please).

I am so very tired (and so very alive)...

.... And now, inspired, by an experiance I had...

(forgive me, here is....)

At a bus station I sat. Weary. Sad. My eyes hung so low. A man stood mext to me, with snake-skin boots and a suit case of grey. I wondered if only clothing dwelled there (in his baggage). Knowing that I carried in my suitcase... wine, lights, candles, secrets... eternity. He tapped his foot to god-knows-what... (a song he learned as a child... in my head, that's what I imagined).
I was so very tired (as I am now).... (but too stubborn to shy away).
That morninig, so many things were on my drunken mind... rollng cigarettes. Green lights, spider-webs...

Men. Wounded... asking a scared 19-year-0ld girl for money... (how could I say no?)

(you hurt my soul).

Don't worry babydoll. We'll all be okay... in the end.

......(I've let go)... (My mind races).............

The End (of "drunken-writing night")

p.s. .... and I only had ONE "pee break" !!!


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Surprise, surprise... [05 Nov 2005|11:35pm]
[ mood | whatever's clever. ]

Still drunk on drunk-writing day.
And I haven't writen enough. "london loves..." again.

There are so many things happening right now. As I type. There are worlds that I wish I were a part of. People loving. People breaking. Having their first orgasm. Their first taste of heart-break... their first taste of jello. People comitting murder. (I've never known how to spell "comitting").
My mind just had an erruption.

Current Music Track: "Slide" - The Goo Goo Dolls...
You can look down on me if you'd like.
It reminds me of middle school. "MIDDLE" school.

... they say the "middle" child has problems.
What about children who have no siblings? I have none. I have "problems".

What is so bad about the middle child?

..... My mind has drifted now, from that..... (who cares?)

I look over to my bottle of wine. Sitting, submissive... with it's $1.99 tag. And I think... "am I that cheap?"

Current Track: "Greener Pastures" - No Doubt (before they sold the fuck out).

When I was 11... I thought about suicide... a lot. Oh so silly how music made me... Made Me.

I lived in Los Angeles for the majority of my life (the part of my life that mattered)...
I lived with my aunt and uncle and cousins... and mum.
My cousins were like my brothers and sisters. We talked about suicide a lot. We always said we would go to New York... get to the top of the tallest building... all grab hands... and dive... fall... into........... nothingness? forever? lack of hurt. Our parents were insane. My uncle is an angry person when he's drunk. My mother is lost when she's drunk. And I? ... I am growing when I'm drunk.

"Sing your life"

(I'm changing the subject because I feel like a burden)

Morrissey. (oh, dear, dear Steven Morrissey...) I've said time and time again that I am the female form of him.
That's a cocky thing to say perhaps.

I'm tired of that subject..

Mum's trying to steal my cigarettes again. I'm trying to convince her that she's drunk.
She's lost. We help eachother.

I heart you so hard. Like a fish in the city with a fuzzy hat and a pendant in that sacred place.

This is the end of Drunken-post #2 and/or 3.

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Mum's Joining In... [05 Nov 2005|09:46pm]
[ mood | safe. ]

"Breathe... Sleep... Eat... Ponder.. And stare. In this lifetime, you shall no longer bother in the persuit of war, but rather, you shall bother in the persuit of peace." Okay, um.. I don't know.. that's pretty much all I .. uhh.. Love. Love finds you. And you're not seeking. Okay. and it scares you sometimes. But if you're brave enough, and you're not a coward. you'll recieve it with an open heart and an open mind. and you will know. the profound meaning of love. even though it hurts. or eventhought it may hurt. alright. so... i'm not that drunk. but i like that state of not being too drunk and not being that sober. it's a great feeling. i wish i always felt that way. and a good cigarette doesn't hurt either. that's it for now. read it. no, you're supposed to write "read it". ps: uhh.. ps good music helps a lot, especially miles davis on a saturday night... on a LONELY saturday night.

(I typed it for her, as she spoke.... she says: "that's me, i like it).

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Imported Lancers Rose Table Wine (serve well chilled) [05 Nov 2005|09:07pm]
[ mood | yup. ]

Well I think i'm there now. Glass one from bottle two.
And I'm feeling quite spirited in that drunken way.

Ya dig?
(Pee break #1)

"London loves the way people just fall apart"...

(I'm sure I'll be quoting songs a lot tonight)

I named my car Auddie Maxamillia Bot.
She is so increadibly stubborn.
She decided to die in the middle of the street tonight. I don't love her any less.
She just needed to rest, I say. We all need to rest every now and then. Even if it's inconveiniant for some.

My father is in town. My mother called him to come here so he can "teach me how to drive".
Gah! I don't want to get into a father-rant.

This is only the beginning.

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It's On. [05 Nov 2005|08:50pm]
[ mood | almost there. ]


I'm not drunk enough to be part of Drunk-Writing Night yet, but I'm steadily on my way.
Not to worry.

I'm on glass of wine #2... or maybe three.

STEADILY on my way.
...I shall return when the bottle's gone.

Ciao kitty cats.

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Don't Let The Bastards Get You Down. [06 Oct 2005|06:17pm]
[ mood | detatched. ]

So my mother's in one of those moods.
One of those "angry" moods. When my mum gets mad, she sounds stupid.
Stupid and weak.

I'm "full of shit", apparently.

Oh, but that's not all, dear mum, don't you know?
... I'm also full of wine, microwave chimichangas and a possible death-bound fetus.

Drown the little monster in a bottle of $1.99 wine.
Smother it in toxic chimichanga mush.

... Or I could just be paranoid (and I probably am).

I need a pony. (And more cigarettes).

(3 switchblades | dig a little deeper)

Lay Me Down Gracefully... [24 Sep 2005|03:57pm]
[ mood | Aware. ]

I think I've found what I want...

Image hosted by Photobucket.com

Image hosted by Photobucket.com

... In a place not blocked from the breeze ...

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ShadowBoxLove [06 Sep 2005|12:10am]
[ mood | hello sweet memory. ]


(dig a little deeper)

*boink-boink* [29 Aug 2005|12:15pm]
[ mood | out of bakersfield. ]


(I had a crazy, burning desire to make this post one drunken night not long ago. I feel better now).

Pointless? Yes.

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I've Got To Let It Go... And Leave It Gone. [20 Aug 2005|09:32pm]
[ mood | die. fuck. ]

That was yesterday.

Now all that is left is insatiable want.

Not to be drunk...
but to be in the midst of friends.
To know them better.
Even those who I've known for years.

I'm too tired to be spilling over the brim like this.

I found my aunt's fake eyelashes on the living room carpet.

I think I'm going to vomit.

(3 switchblades | dig a little deeper)

...I Just What? [11 Jul 2005|11:57pm]
[ mood | sleep deprived ]

"I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight" is honestly one of my favorite songs of all time. Silly, I know.

BUT! I have been listening to one song continuously for... well, I'm gonna' sum it up to about two days now.

There. I updated.

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