|
[17 Nov 2005|02:21pm] |
Humanity i love you because
when you're hard up you pawn your
intelligence to buy a drink
--e.e.
|
|
| you make me want to LOSE: |
[14 Nov 2005|09:24pm] |
ENDINGS.
in 3 months to a year.
a shitty life in exchange......for a life
in exchange.
in a taking-to. ///a taking-a-liking.
used to.
to it.
RE-ITERATION:
[I NEVER THOUGHT I'D BE EIGHTEEN WITH UGLY STORIES TO TELL.]
i never said that.
i didn't say it
///first.
-----or for the last time.
i'm not it.
yet.
eighteen yet.
----she isn't.
[but she'll save me.]
before it's over i think.
well, we think about it.
-and we talk talk walk about it.
and we think we'll miss each other.
like it's easy.
like we've got it all so easily.
laid out.
LAID
///////DOWN.
and i take
up
////////a whole lot of space
for a
Slip Of A Girl.
for a trans-
lation.
atlantic.
like i've got this fever
in my blood.
and it's letting----
letting
----
letting
----
me down.
PUBLIC TRANSITION:
taking cues from railroad signs and
automobiles in neutral
and neon lights and
it's dirty this side of town.
they say SOUTH
they say
PUTA
///////GIRL GIRL GIRLIE GIRL
i said "fuck" and no one understood
it.
bad teeth and
rotten
rotten
rotten
xxxxxxxxxboys.
it seems BAD HEARTS are on a rampage this
side of awful.
it seems i've got a lot of sickness to share around.
seems this public transition was a rude awakening.
|
|
| so...ummm....yeah, you're making this weird. |
[04 Sep 2005|07:19pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 stressed. |
] |
WTF, MATE?
numbers scumbers makes people crazy okay. okayokay??? i mean. they're doing lines of the backs of toilets and bathroom counters i mean jeeeezus christ man im only making a telelphone call i was only DRUNK DIALING i dont think it could quite compare to cockroaches and goats and shitting in condoms or whatever the fuck it was you were babbling on about one day or another; ps i hope this doesnt mean our prom date is off =!!!!!!!????????!!!!!!!??????? i mean late-nights and over-nights and drunk girls, now that's acceptable even moped riding i can take [take it off; out; outtttta here] but bikepegs and bussiness line sex transaction now that i dont think i could -slash- CAN handle or hold up to very well. [i dont remember what was said, the prelude the intro. hello? hellllllllllllo? the music is so fucking loud loud loud LOUDDDDDDD (now im yelling) what the fuck are you doing at 2 a.m. man! i am--i mean--i was--waiting up for you; read: staying up for you; you said you'd take me in the bathroom to do lines and have some sort of romance, some sort of romancing + modern dancing; i waited around. dude, DUDE havent you kind of noticed im in love with you.)----i guess that's what made it kind of weird, right?
but what about holding hands and standing around with hands-down-pants and you put your knee on the couch on the other side of me--did you notice how redintheface i got, started holding in my breath, counting each beatbeatBEAT upuupuuppp, your arms locked into my shoulders equalled support; jerry said you knew you know; i said, yeahyeahyeah; i couldnt sit on your lap, your knees bumping into me, my GOD, i am so seventeen!!!, what the hell, man, i think im feeling ill. is this unconscious? sub-consciously i probably wanted to sleep, to head to bed, but you scare the hell out of me so i declined, i said: ...well FUCK I DONT REMEMBER WHAT I SAID except:
is this weird? is this weird? is this weird?
and then it did get it.
i got it.
fucking WEIRD man.
|
|
| so you might be a charming man &: |
[27 Jul 2005|07:35pm] |
|
(i've got two pillows in my bed for a reason. i've got enough sheets to cover up a second set of legs. i've got just enough room to comfortably spoon beside the likes of you, you devil. you
handsome devil.)
|
|
| lists. |
[16 Jul 2005|08:38pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 weird |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
folksy nathan. as in: nate. as in: love. |
] |
.
.
.
REASONS TO BE IN LOVE WITH YOU[rself]
.
.
.
(20 plus reasons i can regain consciousness again.)
.
.
.
.
.
music to listen to on the weekends. or, in transition.
-----aka: when you feel like thinking of me.
.
.
.
+ you.
|
|
| made of old newspaper & paint: |
[02 Jul 2005|01:52am] |
3 lanes of traffic. or maybe 6. dodging fast cars
risking my life
for nothing.
it was empty -- no candy.
just one cherry.
and i love everything you've ever sent me.
|
|
| and i promise that i'll run away with you. |
[26 Jun 2005|05:53pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 creative |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
toxic narcotic |
] |
a year from now i want to be in europe.
[seriously. of course i would say yes. jesus christ. my bags are already packed.]
and we will take the train. and we will sleep in youth hostiles, holding hands and swallowing tongues.
and we will still be young.
young young young young.
and i'll play the smiths on a walkman and you'll play
the drums on my thighs
and i'll still wear far too much makeup on my eyes and you will
follow me down
in london
in tunnels
stations
cabs
cars---and i'll send postcards to everyone i know.
saying things as fucked up as
i want to have your arbortion.
or
i haven't been fucked like that since gradeschool.
[i think it will be better than mexico.]
|
|
| over-rated apathy. i'd prefer to be STUDIOUSLY ALOOF. |
[19 Jun 2005|09:48pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
sweaty&scared&giddy&sick;;; |
] |
the mix you made me: i started listening to the lyrics to-day.
and by listening i mean really listening. as in: HEARING them, what they were saying. :: it made me kind of sad. brought me down. [took me out.] i guess
i should have been in love with you.
but i'm glad i wasn't. glad i won't be.
---not now; our time is out. and over. wayy-over. long OVER-DUE. [i'm sorry???] maybe. but probably not.
my skin is red and itchy. bug bites and sunburns. peeling skin in the most peculiar shapes [he said he really liked me and i do.] :: i hope it was worth it.
(ps. talk about bad karma.)
talk about BAD-MOTHER-FUCKING-TIMING. [talk about bad mothers.]
oh yeah: homelessness is suddenly an option again. gosh. why thank-you. COCKSUCKER.
hopelessness sounds so easy. again. not again. [it's getting late. and i don't mean that. please, edit me. edit my parts. take them. a-part. and again. begin again.]
his car is really hot.
((oh yeah and he calls a lot.))
my heart beats hard allthetime nowadays and i sometimes serisouly wonder how long i'll make it.
talk about faking it.
talk about drama. DRAMADRAMADRAMA.
[did i mention bad-karma???]
oh yeah:::i miss you. and by 'you' i mean him and in fact not you at all.
i'm setting my alarm for seven in the morning.
to scare the shit out of myself.
to call a cab. and be late by 3 hours.
ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh shit.
|
|
| headaches like blinding. |
[02 Jun 2005|01:55am] |
|
vision = trembling.
right now. right. now. rightright.
i am so tired soooooooootired and my ears are still ringing
from turning the AMPSWAYUP ---SO YOU CAN HEAR NOTHING
[and if i die tonight then i guess i die tonight]
that is what my silence sounds like. background noise that refuses to be blotted out. fingers twitching from smoking too much. sagging eyelids from liquor. noliquor.noliquor. no more lying to yourself about feeling. [forget about your forty? your half-of. your split-down-the-center.]
don't use boys for carrides. anymore. [never meant to.]
not my intention.
my in----dention. [like bruises on the hips. her hips. she hasn't a name. but really, that's hot. kind of. that's fucked up, kind of. sorry. sorrrrry.]
do not laugh when i spit beer into your mouth or pull away at inconveniences or scoff at misuse or miscommunication. do not frown at my easy targets. at fits against metal doors. and footsteps. the paranoia of footsteps. of being found out.
---[i'm leaving out all the r's.]------without intention. accident. accidental. inci-dental.
incarceration. -------- it's getting late;
[i guess i should have called by now. ?]
but i'm [far] too distracted by swedish boys with sweaty red shirts and gyrating hips and addresses that i slipped into my backpocket, and had i been smooth enough there would have been digits that would never be dialed but at least i could boast about being able to telephone wayyy-hot indie-rockstars, sexy euros, no?
yeahyeahyeahyeah----who got called cute by the (international)nooise conspiracy??
yep. that's right. bitches.
[and who got a sweaty hug and the closest thing to inside jokes that can be formed between ten maybe fifteen maybe twenty minutes of chatting and awesome accents and talk of 7 o'clock planerides and bad examples and being seventeen years old.]
yepyepyep. artsyfartsymotherfucker.
hooray for communist dance parties!!!!!
------even if i'm not agreeing all the way.
hooray for skinny boys shaking their hips wearing tight pants sporting sexy tatoos!!
i think im in love in love in love
[it's in the air. like pollen allergies pollution.]
!!!!!!!
<33333333333
|
|
| sucker. [love.] |
[27 May 2005|04:22pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
divorced. division. |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
the beatles are in my head. |
] |
it's so weird to feel my heart race, well, just to feel my heart at all, pounding fast and loud and it kind of hurts but maybe this feeling has just become so un-familiar. so un-famil[y]iar.
jealousy can take me by the rib cage and shake.
shhhh-shhh-shh-shake.
[i should not be thinking about you when i'm breathing hard and when there is another boy with a green sofa who calls and kisses me and cares far more than you do. no. i should not be thinking.]
and we feel exactly the same way.
---except you didnt forget about me quite as [easily?] quickly.
except i guess i never meant so much.
--------but the differences are equivalent. by now.---by now.
[we're buying out.]
and you're out of luck.
fresh out.
today we discussed the broken-family childhood syndrome. apparently i'm living it. apparently i'm living.
?? questionmark. [like a last name in my telephone.]
i do not have the patience for spoiled four year-olds.
---------------i hope i never broke your heart too hard.
hard-ly.
i wrote the saddest thing, in the dark, with my eyes shut:
teenage sex + beer. -------+ cigarettes.
---things worth living for.
i found it the other day. after i'd conveniently forgotten.
title: revision.
title: revolution.
[please stop beating my heart to a pulp.]
please stop living this fiction.
of mine.
[and we've been reduced to communicating on-line.]
|
|
| please, manipulate the moment: |
[24 May 2005|08:28pm] |
you are my sunshine//my only sunshine
you make me happy when skies are grey
you'll never know, dear, how much i love miss you
please don't take my sunshine away:
i am still raw
from our deliriously
bitter lust
-----------------------------watch out, my friend
------------------------------they say you will
--------------------------------------love the ache
-----------------------------------------the shake
-------------------------of sad boys
--------------------------------and drunk language
----------------------------------------------s
the other night dear//as i lay sleeping
i dreamed i held you in my arms
when i awoke, dear, i was mistaken
so i hung my head and i cried.
|
|
| goddamn i wish i were british. |
[22 May 2005|10:10am] |
|
[come to your senses you stupid motherfucker]
wakeup. wakeup.
not since november. what the hell does that tel you?
[it's all a matter of wanting and not wanting, believing and not believing and reinventing and hopes up and down and getting high and getting by and recalling and reliving and being sick and being sad and feeling better than before and expectation and elation and let downs and comming downs.
and comming downs.
i should have known. i should have. there isnt any real excuse. not really. not--
for you or me or them or we or any other sort of cliched combination i could come up with.
(i do not write worthwhile poetry. i am not witty. i am not in love with you. i am not.)
and maybe i am jealousy, personified. in fact, it's sure. as day. as alcoholic tendancies and bad judgement.
i am reduced down to liquor and bad judgement.
------(i used to define myself by the lines against my skin, against 12 year old wrists, against 13 year old thighs, and i cried and called myself a good person, a real person, but i never believed and i never not ever really believed that i deserved it. that i deserved it. and now i find myself sinking into timeframes of non-existence. i find myself defined by nights and words and feeling i dont remember and i dont love anyone. i dont love one of you. i am defined, self-defined, by brown bottles and broken glass that are lined up, and down, up and down, on my shelves and i measure my self-worth in their weight, and i wait. i waitiwait--but not long enough. and you dont give a shit anymore.
and i can't blame you.)
and i guess that i always expected to be able to lean back on you, down into you; i suppose i was so sure that i would feel you when i began to slip or lose balance or lose faith [lose face] because you had been there in the past, and time was passing, time was passing, and for some reason that seemed to work out logically, and i should have learned, i should have, that changes take place with no catalyst, that things dont make sense in hearts or machines, that nothing is static, that nothing, nothing remains. constant.
or equal.
equalized. that skin falls and sinks when you dont eat. that eyes burn when you dont sleep. that the bodies of seventeen year old girls striving to look twelve can not resist those levels.
3 bottles of cheap wine, cheap liquor, cheaper; cheapest.
----they say that alcohol and vomit are what make you feel pretty, you must be missing, you must be missing something inside. well then fuck you. you dont know me. you dont know me. you dont know
me. [what causes miscarriages?] what if i o.d.ed. what if i fell asleep and didnot couldnot
get up [it's called poisoning, motherfucker]
what then?
there are no black bruises this time. there are no scars i can not explain away.
there is no one to pick and prod at my body, at the legs of my pants, at my pockets.
[and you can not fuck me.]
and maybe i lost, maybe i lost lost lost lost lost
out on memories or time or aging or whatever.
my score is two. two times
whatever heart i may have lost. whatever heart i may have left. and how can you compare
how do you
how do you do
[i dont love you]
------i do do not.
anymore. like typerwriters and stickers and maybe for a day i changed my mind because things felt a little bit the same
but i shouldnt have forgotten
i shouldnt have
and so fuck absences and fuck me because i
am not sorry [anymore]
[minus the not. minus my attempting to be hardened. to be softer than you.]
and i wish i could be the place that you always expected to fall into
the hollowness beneath ribs
the spaces in collarbones that could collect water or sweat
and you could catch yourself on my hips and feel lovely
feel lover-ly
the way a messy bed made me feel loved once, feel better
and i didnt kiss you because you wouldnt let me and i guess that its better because my lips were red anyways
yes and i was too stuck onto myself and
i somehow thought that things could last in such an awklward balance and i should have seen it comming
but my eyes were shut in the middle of the day and i was thinking
of all the poetry [the jokes] i used to write about dusty curtains and drawn blinds and im sorry if i ever made it seem like i was more in love with that boy than you
[im afraid that i was] but he was never someone i could surely lean into.
and he used to tear me down because he could
and he could, and we havent spoken in months because he makes me feel like i am thirteen again, like i need to resort to my thighs again
however it doesnt seem to matter because whothefuck
is going to be seeing them.
and by no one what i really mean is you.]
|
|
| friday nights and detrimental causes. |
[21 May 2005|06:05pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 hungover. |
] |
6 o'clock in the p.m. and
my body still aches. --from bending over awkwardly and
vomiting
from notbeingable to eat from
crashing girlsand
boys and girls and boys and i dont even remember
who anymore
[was that you?]---ps i am sorry
for squishing your legs beneath me
breathing too hard because air feels very thin
verythin
like mountains or pollution or crushes that make your stomach either
swell or shrink-----depending
---on who you are or where
where you are where are you?
[24 hours before i could eat anything]
and my knees in your back was surely
SURELY
unpleasant
and my phonecalls and my face inyour face and my
drunk words against your
head [not your ear. not the whispering-secret-ness i was aiming towards]
but rather yoursideofyourface
rather yourcheek---or where the hair curls against your skin
maybeyoureyebrow?
fuck.
FUCCCCKKKKK.
[jeeeezuschrist.]
-----reeking of liquor of sweating and cigarettes i came 'home'
and dreamt about cops and under-cover cops and rapist cops and weird boys
with knives with switchblades and
my name was lux and i drew hearts on skin and then i think i passed out or passed away in the streets
and then i was dead.
[also. my mother woke me up with a raging headache and two black eyes and stole my phone out of my back pocket and the air hurt and my ribs hurt and i need to call a lot of boys and girls andboysandgirls and im sorry imsorryimsorryyy.]
i think i remember lying in the grass.
i think i remember it feeling cold on the back of my neck. and my palms.
i think i remember lesbians and pretty boys and girlsstealingboys and being hung up on.
i think.
and maybe you. and maybe me. -----i might remember.
[i know they said i surely wouldn't remember it. because five minutes had passed and i didnt know what they were talking about. and i still don't. i still don't.]
|
|
| best friends say: |
[20 May 2005|07:53am] |
"get off my girl's man. or i will killllllll you.
i will FUCK YOU UP."
[hahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa]
|
|
| recall you like me. |
[19 May 2005|09:40pm] |
recall it?-----------------------------
------------------------------recall it?
let me want you.
want me let you.
want
want
want
want
want
want
--------------------------------------nonono, let me begin again:
WANT WANT WANT WANT WANT WANT WANT WANT
------because: sex is banal.
----------and marilyn is torment.
|
|
| CARPEDIEM. ???? |
[17 May 2005|09:56am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
hyper.hypedUP. |
] |
[aka: how we document our frienship.]
there are
FUCKING TEETHMARKS
on my belly
MAATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!
i will kill you.
------i mean, destroy you.
and minus:
flooded washing machines
wet van gogh prints
dirty floors and footprints
---minus:
-----------angered 'adult figures'
and late-night behavioural discussions
minus: failing and apathy and looking you not-quite-in-the-eye
i think maybe things are okay.
?
(???????????)
i think maybe WHITE NOISE and saltine crackers
maybe
red lights and wobbly beds
tofu and cigarettes
(were you smoking in my house!!!!!!)
no no. no. no nononono.......smoking? who ever heard of such a thing.
(i was not smoking in your house.
in your home. your home. your 7,000 dollars.
yes i know. yes i'm aware.)
nod and blink my eyes---im tired
nod and apologize
------when failure is not an option how can you expect me to question?
your authority
you-------lackof----authority?
they say; they say:
deception has always been your forte.
please, please tell me dear
do you love to feel
this dead inside?
[because i think i do. i do i do i do....?]
no. no. no. nononononononono
----------i'm really fucking tired.
and my skin is sticking to your couch. leather making leather-sounds and leather-smell as i dig my nails
in and out---and back in again
as i scratch the skin off
and from out beneathe
---------------my nails
my thighs--the upper half
[the latter] in the shower; white walls i can maybe
could maybe
had hoped to
------call my own.
--------------MY OWN.
[a place where i don't smoke.]
nothin.
i won't smoke nothin.
i mean:
who said anything about FINALS?
please, seize the fucking day.
|
|
| saturday nights = wasted time. |
[14 May 2005|10:29pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
grounded. like a live wire. |
] |
surely, i must love being lame.
[this is how i avoid my conflicts. you know: screaming arguments + sore throats. the weekend regulars.]
 | You scored as Cultural Creative. Cultural Creatives are probably the newest group to enter this realm. You are a modern thinker who tends to shy away from organized religion but still feels as if there is something greater than ourselves. You are very spiritual, even if you are not religious. Life has a meaning outside of the rational.
Cultural Creative | | 88% | Existentialist | | 81% | Postmodernist | | 81% | Romanticist | | 75% | Idealist | | 63% | Modernist | | 56% | Materialist | | 50% | Fundamentalist | | 38% | </td>
What is Your World View?
created with QuizFarm.com |
 | You scored as Alcohol. Woooooooooo man. Party on! But you better chill out after you get outta college, cuz you don't want to be an asshole alcoholic; an embarassment to the family. Never drink and drive, and think about the damage alcohol does to your liver.
Ecstacy | | 94% | Alcohol | | 94% | Marijuana | | 81% | Inhalents | | 75% | Mushrooms | | 75% | Cocaine | | 56% | None! | | 44% | </td>
What's your ideal drug?
created with QuizFarm.com |
| You scored as Hedonism. Your life is guided by the principles of Hedonism: You believe that pleasure is a great, or the greatest, good; and you try to enjoy life’s pleasures as much as you can.
“Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die!”
More info at Arocoun's Wikipedia User Page...
Hedonism | | 95% | Utilitarianism | | 85% | Existentialism | | 75% | Nihilism | | 65% | Justice (Fairness) | | 55% | Apathy | | 35% | Strong Egoism | | 20% | Kantianism | | 20% | Divine Command | | 0% | </td>
What philosophy do you follow? (v1.03)
created with QuizFarm.com |
i think that's very peculiar that hedonism is # 1, yet utilitarianism is #2. ? talk about fucking internal conflicts.
ha. because online quizzes really definie me.
defnitely.
also: i'm aparrently a hippie-slut-&-nerd. ummmm.....hooray?
-----and, i need to meet a boy like David Desrosiers. minus that i dont even know who that is.
|
|
| Realizations of the week no. 3, 4, & 5. |
[12 May 2005|07:50am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
my stomach hurts. |
] |
no. 3:
FAR TOO EASY.
no. 4:
i prefer to dis-connect.
[aka: to fabricate excuses.]
no. 5:
i am living in an 80's highschool movie.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
|
|
| she's thirteen. no--no--no i mean: seventeen. |
[07 May 2005|09:53pm] |
|
i hate the part in kids when she's crying, saying "telley, telly it hurts
IT HURTS"
i fucking hate that kid
telley
tellllly
tellleeeee.
////////////////////
teen girls say:
"he kissed me first, and then fucked my best friend."
but we, we don't.
response to the question he never asked
[not because he never knew]
but just because:
---------------------"did you really think i was going to wait ((around)) for you?"
sarcasm. cynicism.
-----------------------------"you should really be relieved."
really.
someone once said: you're growing up too slowly.
you should be twenty-one but instead
you're 17-------seventeen
you're fuckin JAILBAIT
bitch.
so don't fuck me then.
i mean; i mean
don't touch me
then.
don't---------------------don't
complicate
......things.
or maybe just one
thing
[me.]
may-be.
j-j--jjjj-journal pages read:
sex with strangers = ulterior motives
awkward encounters.
i guess i should have written 'cars' rather
than vans
just
vans ///////// maybe fucking
sand for a heart is
a blessing.
a fucking religion.
a fucking salvation.
a fucking catastrophe.
oh waitress waitress waitress me.
i need it.
[belle + sebastian,
i wish i were a beautiful person]
not
HOT
HOT
HOT
HOT
HOT
this is ROT
-ING
EN
D.
DDDDDD
[reprise.][reprise.]
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