| | i just needed to post on kristin's journal because i gave up trying to locate old phone books that might have her number or address. everything is just in limbo right now. i'll graduate and then who knows what i'll do. matthew is still on my list of the only people that i love in a sexual way. i'm pretty much lonely because i make myself lonely. i spend most of my time being anxious and somber about my solitude rather than calling any of the people that I should call. I'm getting better - I always think I'm getting better though- I should get better. I like being comfortable and it's wierd when I realize that comfortable is really uncomfortable but it's the only comfortable thing to do. at least I don't take myself seriously. | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment   |
| | i'm doing more drugs than hugs lately. it is no good. i miss regular thoughts. matt is working. i found a new friend and so that made me happy. i miss you kristin. i'm drinking tea. i drew a really good portrait today, i am proud of it. that feels good. i let poe outside for a bit. i hope he doesn't get fleas or tics or anything. i would feel responsible. matt is throwing me a birthday party and i'm nervous about it. i'm listening to sophie b. hawkins and singing along. maybe i am in denial but i think it's fun. i had a good birthday dinner last night. mom and dad are so cool. ciao. | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| | 7pm and so I'll have a glass of wine. You'll come over and I'll make dinner. You'll think it's nothing too devine but I was raised on macaroni and cheese so it's a bit complex for my mind. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | i've got it right here. this urge in the back of my throat to defy and deny whatever comes in front of my face. it's the stench of my dirty worked out feet and salty hair that glued itself to my forehead. it's pushing at my lungs smoked out with cigarettes and stoned road trips, it's asking them to breath harder to take in more, after all the measures have been taken to shrink capacity down to the size of a pea. it sits in my belly like water, empty and full, unsatisfied but not yearning, just full of oxygen and hydrogen, swirling around my back bone of carbon. it's harder to swim inside of my skin, then it is to float on top of the ocean. it's harder then i had initially imagined. it's a good tune and we are out of tune but we are trying to find some sense of key to unlock something. it's a big to do, i've recognized. i don't have calluses but i have scars- it's a horrible call of the wild to find sense. if i could just get my hands on some good sense. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| a message to everyone-
First of all, you are fat. You are ugly. Your breath stinks. You are unpopular. Your car sucks. Your house sucks. Your life sucks.
You are not witty. You are not smart. You are ignorant. You are stupid. You will never make it in this world. You are unpopular. You will never amount to anything. You are nothing. Your wife is smarter than you.
Your diet is poor. You have low self-esteem. You have cellulite. You have ugly toenails. You have blackheads. You have body hair where it just shouldn't be. Your eyeballs are not white enough. Your teeth are not white enough.
Secondly, you are fat. You should go on a diet. You should eat more hamburgers. Your tits are not big enough. Your tits are too small. Your tits aren't small enough or big enough. Your dick is too small. Your nose isn't right. Your ass is too big. You should make yourself sick. You should eat more hamburgers.
Your dress sense sucks. You have no style. You are one of the crowd. You are a follower. You are a freak. You don't fit in. You are a lah-hoo-ser. You have no charisma. You are not sexy enough. Your favorite band sucks. Your favorite brand sucks. Your clothes suck. Your shoes suck. You are retarded.
You don't have enough money. You should work harder. You don't have enough things. You are unhappy. You need more. You are unsatisfied. You are not moving forward. You are not keeping up the pace. You are lagging behind. You are one step behind the rest.
You are doing it all wrong. You need to change. You need to see that change is good. You need to follow us. You need to be individual. You need to fit in. You need to think outside the square. You need to stand out. You need to know the rules. You need to know the secrets. You should be yourself.
Thirdly, you are fat. Your legs wobble too much. Your teeth are crooked. Your face is wrong. You are not thin enough. You are too thin. You need to eat more hamburgers.
You are lactose intolerant. You are iron deficient. Your cholesterol is too high. Your calcium level is too low. Your blood pressure is too high. Your iron level is too low. You need to get liposuction. You need to lose weight. You suffer from premature ejaculation. You are far too dependant on drugs. You need to buy more drugs.
You are bipolar. You have attention deficit hyperactive disorder. You have post-traumatic stress disorder. You suffer from depression. You are manic. You are not happy enough. You suffer from road rage. You suffer split-personality disorders. You suffer marriage problems. You are not right. You need to buy more drugs. You suffer from generalized anxiuety disorder. You need to buy more drugs.
You should stop smoking. You should buy more cigarettes. You should stop smoking. You will get cancer. You will die anyway. You should have fun. You shouldn't have fun. You should be fashionable. You should keep ahead. You are lagging behind. You should be individual. You shouldn't care about what you do. You are free. You should go your own way. You should follow us.
You watch too much television. You need to stay tuned. You are fat because you watch too much television. You should watch more television. You should be individual. You are going to be a star one day. You are nothing. You should eat more hamburgers. You should drink more syrup. You are too fat.
You should not be who you are. You have to change.
My name is Marketing.
Now buy my fucking product. | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| | even if, even if it hadn't happend. it still would have been the same. i shouldn't, but i'm going to. i am, it's always going to be the same. but i keep trying to retry and i am a cyborg gone bad. but can't i can't bring one fucking thought down to greener pastures and good with water and sunlight moonlight with no mosquitos crickets at night make symphonies that the stars dance around the tree tops around safety hands oh my in a graveyard how romantic how fantastic how about trying the microwave version i can't find anything to wear i think i left my underwear fuck i forgot my underwear oh well it's just going to be another morning after second thoughts are always more attractive when we hear a frog singing from memphis with cut off jean shorts and lemonade and potato chips soggy with water melon juice if you eat a seed it will grow into a tree or pit in the peaches are sweet and the nectarines are sour mom will play paddle ball she is beautiful shining on the grass greenest grass on the goddamn block torture me for my tongue sliping in and out of placing it doesn't belong make me a quick bathroom break well those were the days welcome this is a farmhouse and i love it when pigs and cows and chickens are a live they are my friends i couldn't pretend okay i'll count to ten and when i find you i hate to play that game everyone says if you are going to learn how to play you should learn how to play tough i'm a little confused if all of those people are going to go to heaven then why the hell would i want to go there too? that's probably not going to get me far- talking like that- but who knows. if the all-gendered God came inward to planet earth, what form would she/he be in? A large mist that covers the globe that rains puppies and kittens who wear little rain coats and always safely and joyfully hit the ground. | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| matt is in germany. my bed is ugly. i'm busy and bored all at once. my cats and i started a club. it's the kind you have to be in to understand. and you aren't- so don't ask. but it's very very important.
what do you suppose he is doing over there now. at a typography conference with the three female designers and a room full of people that are into the way letters look. one big orgy. i know. i shouldn't think about it. yesterday i was picturing him on the plane with the two girls he flew with. they are talking about the little curl on the helvetica upper case r. she uses porn star voice and says, oh yeah, i love the way it just barely curves up... he says, yeah... they go in the bathroom have disgusting sex and then she's pregnant with his baby. which she decides to keep because her mother is a nun and then matt falls in love with her and they live happily ever after. i live with two cats and cigarettes. that won't happen. if they were going to sleep together they would use protection. and matt would get to nervous of a steward catching them. but the hotel rooms they are staying in. thats a whole other story.
i decided candy is too good. | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| for one month i will eat no packaged sugar. including, but not limited too, candy, fast food, chocolate, chocolate milk, ice cream, some cereal, soda, non-all-natural juices, some breakfast syurps and jelly stuff, and all the rest of the best food in the world. only juice from jamba. only diabetic friendly splenda.
hopefully, i'll be more energetic,less depressed, more focused and insomnia free.
also, i will hopefully not grow too sour | | comments: Leave a comment |
| she took up this opinion a long time ago. that if liking who she was was going to be too difficult, it would just be easier to fit. like everyone else. i'm pretty sure she wasn't even conscious of the decision,. i suppose she is just making marks in the institution of what is and what isn't, of what matters and what doesn't. feeling her way through a massive social construction. maybe it's worth it to play along. maybe that's why she never seems lonely.
i don't think thinking it's just too hard to really think. go ahead, i think to myself. change your nose. marry and settle down. it will be okay because it is average. and it will never be a problem because average blends in. so don't worrry. nobody likes their life all the time. but she thinks i'm crazy for thinking. who am i to think typical is so typical. what am i? i am not going to change the world. neither will she. we will die. i will die. we are all half crazy, some talk louder. some forget it. who cares her nose is a different size and shape?
i care. i care because she was my model. she was my image of beautiful for my entire life. she always was the coolest thing in the world. she had a hypercolor t-shirt before anyone else. she did my hair for me. i wanted to be her. she is so fucking cool. she is so pretty- 1990 hairsprayed bangs up to the heavens. and she had a million friends. she had a boyfriend and they kissed all the time. i just sat at home and watched in awe because she was my hero. i knew her so well. i was her. and now i'm not. because she's not. because she lied. because she is just as scared as i am. but instead of running a muk and figuring it out she's been so quiet and decided to just give up. you can't buy yourself a new nose everytime you feel bad about yourself. you can't just get rid of something that's bothering you. you need to get over it. you need to find yourself. why did she always tell me that? why is this okay?
it so hard to like yourself. it is so fucking ridiculous that i have to look at my face and think, well maybe it would be better...if i just...no no no no no. maybe i'm still not the most handsome prince but i plan on waiting until i'm old enough to realize i'm beautiful because i believe in myself and because i know i'm a good person. it's so hard. it's so hard and it's the first thing i'm sure my mom tried to teach me. it's all on the inside. then you let your inside show through how you want. it's like wearing a bumper sticker. that's all. it's not to please them. it's not to be a contortionist for them. it's not to put on a good face.
and a nose job isn't getting anywhere. it's living in brentwood and wearing short khaki pants to go to 4 hour hair appointment. who is that. that's not the silly face i made blanket fortresses with. that's not who taught me the secrets of mario bros. that's not the woman who told me that i wouldn't be judged, or that i wouldn't have to make them like me, or that i was perfect just the way my cells decided to fit together on their own.
what's pretty? who's pretty? why does it fucking matter. i'm tired of it. look at people. they are so different. they are so beautiful because of it. it sounds like an afterschool special but nobody seemed to learn it. where is everybody? i'm so pissed off and everyone tells me that it's just something people do to feel better about themselves. it is not. it is a big deal. i am not okay with it and i am not happy for her about it and i will not tell her it looks nice. everyone will tell her she looks so good. everyone will think it is so sad that i am the less attractive sister. everyone will be so proud of her and her new found confidence. it's so difficult to not care and not be angry or competitve. i guess i'm the jerk with the hangup, but it's the same thing it's always been. "oh- you're living a quiet lifestyle, you're not asking for much, you're not taking much, you look like the billboards, you talk like women gossip, you are organized and just right." we are all in love with you, we think you are living the quintessential life. your poor little sister. she can't be happy. she has bad sense of fashion, no balance and an akward body, she's got a bad temper and doesn't enjoy shopping. she must be so desperate. she must be so jealous of your new nose! ugh ugh ugh | | comments: Leave a comment |
| reality clicks in at wierd points. like silences at night. like the boring sound of letters being typed. perhaps i am perpetually bound to squander smiles because everything seems more interesting that way.
or maybe i am getting tired of always having fun for two. of being alone in this stupid life that seems so great sometimes. maybe it's not fun anymore.
is it too much to ask? someone who isn't afraid of me...
because i want to scream. i want to laugh and shout and spin in circles and sing loud because it's never been a clever style to worry about other people. i'm over being calm. i'm not a calm girl.
when i am angry i bite and i kick and i swear because i don't like to play fair. and boredom is going to eat me alive if i have to play pretend all the time. the minute i recognize that life is mine i end up dealing with some collar shirts and poker faced aniexty ridden life styles.
i didn't ask for questions. everyone wants to know what it all means. can't anybody think on their own? why am i constantly having to explain myself. figure me out this time. if you think i'm angry then fucking punch back and see what happens. i am not in the mood for sharing.
i am not patient. i am only caring for those who might be willing to care for themselves. that's why i don't really like myself all that much.
but it's my mistake.
it wasn't you bleeding- was it? so if the gore bothers you than don't ask to watch next time. don't ask my opinion. i will scream in your face for hours. and maybe i'm not the most perfect of dictators- but at least i have enough guts to care.
or enough fear to cry
or enough rage to blow up
or enough misery to understand the pleasure of happiness.
there are so many cracks in our floor and we're going to fall through so i'm climbing up the walls. and if you don't follow because you are too scared then you're going away and i'm leaving too.
i'm tired of quiet. i'm tired of biting my pillow. of punching the mattress. of getting hushed because young lady this isn't your time to be in the bright light. i don't want to be showcased. i just want to get out all this everything on frustration and hysteria and energetic frenzied creative wild merchandise for your lovely little mind to absorb. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | i complain too much. why can't i just be happy with everything. i think if i was outside looking at myself i'd be really happy. everything is shit. that's not true. i know that's not true. i'm just too selfish or greedy or ignorant or pathetic to accept it. i don't feel sorry for myself. just embarrassed ..like usual. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| it just started raining. lazloe's ears are twitching. i think she is mad at me. i'm tired because i slept too much. matt and i got empanadas. they were deliciouso. i'm not mad anymore about the magazine. i am mad about the lack of love lazloe is giving me. i'm taking a nap.
ciao | | comments: Leave a comment |
| i'm at ucla doing homework while matt's in class. he is in a bad mood today. i don't really blame him- everyone he works with is being an idiot.
my new art project- put together an art show. big amount of work, but i'm in classes for the braindead this quarter, so beyond busy work i'm not really that busy.
john and i are in a figure drawing class together. last night there was a naked man model. we've done naked female before and it doesn't bother me- but this guy creeped me out. i almost couldn't draw. it was just hanging there. just swinging. and when he would do poses bending over and stuff....goodness. i feel like i'm not an artist because if i was i would just accept and love the entire body- so last night i pretended like it wasn't a deal because i wanted to appear mature and all- but really, i'm just not used to penis like that. vagina i don't mind. i grew up with vagina. i know vagina. and i've seen penis plenty, but i've never really had to stare at it. not like that at least. it was odd. i am a changed person. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| I have never:
(_) BEEN DRUNK
(_) SMOKED POT
(_) KISSED A MEMBER OF THE OPPOSITE SEX
(_) KISSED A MEMBER OF THE SAME SEX
(X) CRASHED A FRIEND'S CAR
(x) BEEN TO JAPAN
(_) RODE IN A TAXI
(x) HAD ANAL SEX
(_) BEEN IN LOVE
(_) HAD SEX
(_) HAD SEX IN PUBLIC
(X) RECIEVED ORAL SEX WHILE DRIVING
(_) GIVEN ORAL SEX TO SOMEONE DRIVING
(X) BEEN DUMPED
(_) SHOPLIFTED
(_) BEEN FIRED
(X) BEEN IN A FIST FIGHT
(_) HAD A THREESOME
(_) SNEAKED OUT OF MY PARENT'S HOUSE
(X) BEEN TIED UP (SEXUALLY)
(x) BEEN CAUGHT MASTURBATING
(x) PISSED ON MYSELF
(x) HAD SEX WITH A MEMBER OF THE SAME SEX
(x) BEEN ARRESTED
(_) MADE OUT WITH A STRANGER
(_) STOLE SOMETHING FROM MY JOB
(x) CELEBRATED NEW YEARS IN TIME SQUARE
(x) GONE ON A BLIND DATE
(_) HAD A CRUSH ON A TEACHER
(x) CELEBRATED MARDI-GRAS IN NEW ORLEANS
(_) BEEN TO EUROPE
(_) SKIPPED SCHOOL
(_) SLEPT WITH A CO-WORKER
(_) CUT MYSELF ON PURPOSE
(_) HAD SEX AT THE OFFICE
(x) BEEN MARRIED
(x) BEEN DIVORCED
(_) HAD SEX WITH MORE THAN ONE PERSON WITHIN THE SAME WEEK
(_) POSED NUDE
(_) GOT SOMEONE DRUNK JUST TO HAVE SEX WITH THEM
(_) STUCK AROUND A DRUNK PERSON AND GOTTEN DRUNK TO HAVE SEX WITH THEM
(_) HAD SEX WITH MY BOSS
(x) DATED MY ROOMMATE
(x) BEEN FISTED AND/OR HAVE NEVER FISTED ANYONE
(_) THROWN UP IN A BAR
(_) SLEPT WITH AN EX
(x) HAD SEX ON AN AIRPLANE OR OTHER MASS TRANSPORTATION
(x) HAD PHONE SEX
(_) HAD SEX MORE THAN ONCE IN A NIGHT
(_) HAD SEX MORE THAN TWICE IN A NIGHT
(_) HAD SEX MORE THAN THRICE IN A NIGHT
(x) HAD SEX MORE THAN FOUR TIMES IN A NIGHT
(x) HAD SEX MORE THAN FIVE TIMES IN A NIGHT (well done...) | | comments: Leave a comment |
| see now. i'll write in code. because anything else would be far to revealing. or embarrassing. for myself even. you know, i don't like to see the words either.
so it's dark outside and i decide to hide between my words because that's what women are most likely to do (those selfless mothers) i have about 15 more minutes until i let my hair down. i bet rapunzel was a lousy lover. all that hair. twisted and knotted and wrapped around sticky bodies. sick.
and the big projects are almost done. jimmy jenkins will be living in apartment c floor 5. no pets allowed, unless it wears a smock while it paints. but about that. shut the fuck up.
i was drinking caffeine free diet coke tonight to save cancer for my lungs. because i can't imagine anyone really 95 years old on the television crying because they had too much saccrine and now are practically dead. it's like getting your eyes stuck when you cross them. or eating ez-cheez right from the can. one never happens and the other isn't even good when it does.
that's such a bad bet. to assume that anything would fall from the sky. it's already all in the air. you just can't smell it. really, i know. i talked to the clerk of the weather. he says that when it rains next time it will end the war. i say okay. i don't quite understand but at the same time i do.
somthing about neurotransmitters being out cold and mucky guk just spilling out your nose. Sick. REally sick.
oh jesus, it's so silent in here. he's always gone for some reason. i know it doens't seem real, but when i'm here it certainly does. i feel like i'm always here in front of this computer or on the couch. hating the fact that i don't have anyone to go get a drink with because i live in the this dopey city where everyone likes to talk about posters and hipsters. and i would like to discuss how the emperor has lost his clothes.
not that the two are any different really. one is caught up in ridiculousness. the other is just a little more interesting to me.
isn't it insane that one minute you can think one thing and then change your mind the next
i'm happy i'm sad i'm hot i'm cold i'm this i'm shit...
the bad is always filled with the same underlying bad
and the good is always way beyond what my rationality knows is good.
he calls.
i answer and then hang up because i'm tired of being alone. | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| | i share my name with asian people and blonde haired chubby girls. | | comments: Leave a comment |
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