Thursday, May 10, 2007
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Nothing
I really don't know what I am doing anymore. I am trying, what for, I really don't know why. I wouldn't say I was sad, numb maybe.
I have wanted to write so many things over the last year, but I feel like I have been in a constant state of shock. Like I can't even figure out what it is I think. I feel like someone kidnapped my ability to understand what it is I truly think. I don't act like myself, I don't dress like myself, I don't do the things I usually do. I feel like I am walking around in disguise. I'm a secret agent. Sent from the higher ups to figure out nothing.
I have wanted to write so many things over the last year, but I feel like I have been in a constant state of shock. Like I can't even figure out what it is I think. I feel like someone kidnapped my ability to understand what it is I truly think. I don't act like myself, I don't dress like myself, I don't do the things I usually do. I feel like I am walking around in disguise. I'm a secret agent. Sent from the higher ups to figure out nothing.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
movin' right on through old savies
I find it very entertaining that everyone who lives at my house, when the premise of them living at my house is that they have no where else to go, always hits a point where they feel they know better than me how I should be living my life. I like to put things in the wrong place, I like my cloths on my floor, I like to have cartoons on the wall, and if I feel like sleeping on the kitchen floor then I will. I don't expect anyone in my house to do anything but one thing and that is be nice to me. If you don't like who I am or how I live my life I didn't really ask to pay for your existence I just thought it would be nice if you had somewhere to go. It's funny when people start feeling stable in other peoples environments they think they have some say about it. Look if I am truly hurting anyone all you have to do is tell me and I will more than likely change. I do not enjoy making people uncomfortable nor do I enjoy hurting anyone. I was trying to be nice. I can sure as hell guarantee if anyone let me live in their place whether it be a relationship beyond friendship or not I would never do anything but be grateful. I have been on that end several times and I was nothing but polite and grateful. People expect too much and don't give credit where credit is due. It's easier to blame someone else for your shortcomings rather than create some longcomings for yourself. BORING!!!!!
I apparently started writing this piece some time ago. I apparently started writing a lot of them. In my past posts there are a ton of drafts I just never finished writing. Spoutings of anger to put in some form of writing to keep myself from getting too depressed. It's funny for someone who said for so many years that I like to be alone... well I think I've only been alone for a total of a few months in the last ten years. I find it very interesting. Maybe I don't want to be alone at all. Maybe I was blaming others for my shortcomings, my inability to live with others without becoming too attached. I like people, I like having special friendships and bonds with people. I like sharing secrets with people, I like them to share secrets with me. I don't think I do like being alone. In fact, I know I hate it. I don't like what money does to people. I don't like how past relationships consume and ruin people. I don't like being lied to. I have a hard time with people when they hate themselves. I hate it when people can't share, or don't know how to. I hate it when people blame others for everything and can't accept the fact that we create our own happiness. Someone else can't make your life anything. They can give you little pieces that help glue it all together, but really they don't have much to do with what you want and can have in life. There are a lot of people who genuinely get excited to see you do things you love doing and support those things but you create it.
I apparently started writing this piece some time ago. I apparently started writing a lot of them. In my past posts there are a ton of drafts I just never finished writing. Spoutings of anger to put in some form of writing to keep myself from getting too depressed. It's funny for someone who said for so many years that I like to be alone... well I think I've only been alone for a total of a few months in the last ten years. I find it very interesting. Maybe I don't want to be alone at all. Maybe I was blaming others for my shortcomings, my inability to live with others without becoming too attached. I like people, I like having special friendships and bonds with people. I like sharing secrets with people, I like them to share secrets with me. I don't think I do like being alone. In fact, I know I hate it. I don't like what money does to people. I don't like how past relationships consume and ruin people. I don't like being lied to. I have a hard time with people when they hate themselves. I hate it when people can't share, or don't know how to. I hate it when people blame others for everything and can't accept the fact that we create our own happiness. Someone else can't make your life anything. They can give you little pieces that help glue it all together, but really they don't have much to do with what you want and can have in life. There are a lot of people who genuinely get excited to see you do things you love doing and support those things but you create it.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Man Woman Nothing.
This was an old perfomance piece of mine back in the salad days, Man Woman Nothing. I don't know where a copy of it is but I keep thinking about it lately. It went something like this...
There is nothing on the stage except a woman in a perfect dress with an apron. Lights are very cold and strangely dim. Woman is just standing staring at nothing when in walks man in suit with briefcase, sets case down and stares in opposite direction.
All converstion is very monotone and unemotional.
Woman- Welcome home honey.
Man- Thank you.
(Music starts very quietly and it's Danny Elfman'esque horror film music, as converstion moves along it progressively gets louder)
Woman- How was work?
[Long pause]
Man- Fine.
[Long pause]
Woman- Good.
[Long pause]
Man- How was your day?
[Long pause]
Woman- Fine.
[Long pause]
Man- Good.
[Long pause]
( the lights are slowly throughout conversation changing to a very eerie dim green until the whole stage is consumed. Music is getting louder)
Woman- Are you hungry?
[Long pause]
Man- Yes.
[Long pause]
Woman- Ok.
[Long pause]
Man- I will pay bills tomorrow.
[Long pause]
Woman- Your ex called.
[Long pause]
Man- Are there any clean dishes?
[Long pause]
Woman- I'm going to bed.
[Long pause]
Man- I'm going to work on the computer.
[Long pause]
Woman- I love you.
[Long pause]
Man- I love you.
Lights fade slowly to black as music becomes obnoxiously loud. In the darkness you hear the faint sound of an old fasioned jack in the box. Music fades down as lights fade up. Woman is sitting legs out straight on floor with jack in the box between her knees. She is hunched over jack cranking the handle watching the top of it. She cranks it very slowly and music fades until it is just the sound of the jack in the box. The lid pops open and jack pops out. The woman starts laughing in a very deep evil villian sort of way as she begins to manaically scratch her outer legs. Creepy music suddenly is on and louder than ever as she scratches and laughs.
Lights fade down first, music follows.
I think that was the same show I stapled ham to a crappy novel. Apparently I wasn't a woman of many words back then.
There is nothing on the stage except a woman in a perfect dress with an apron. Lights are very cold and strangely dim. Woman is just standing staring at nothing when in walks man in suit with briefcase, sets case down and stares in opposite direction.
All converstion is very monotone and unemotional.
Woman- Welcome home honey.
Man- Thank you.
(Music starts very quietly and it's Danny Elfman'esque horror film music, as converstion moves along it progressively gets louder)
Woman- How was work?
[Long pause]
Man- Fine.
[Long pause]
Woman- Good.
[Long pause]
Man- How was your day?
[Long pause]
Woman- Fine.
[Long pause]
Man- Good.
[Long pause]
( the lights are slowly throughout conversation changing to a very eerie dim green until the whole stage is consumed. Music is getting louder)
Woman- Are you hungry?
[Long pause]
Man- Yes.
[Long pause]
Woman- Ok.
[Long pause]
Man- I will pay bills tomorrow.
[Long pause]
Woman- Your ex called.
[Long pause]
Man- Are there any clean dishes?
[Long pause]
Woman- I'm going to bed.
[Long pause]
Man- I'm going to work on the computer.
[Long pause]
Woman- I love you.
[Long pause]
Man- I love you.
Lights fade slowly to black as music becomes obnoxiously loud. In the darkness you hear the faint sound of an old fasioned jack in the box. Music fades down as lights fade up. Woman is sitting legs out straight on floor with jack in the box between her knees. She is hunched over jack cranking the handle watching the top of it. She cranks it very slowly and music fades until it is just the sound of the jack in the box. The lid pops open and jack pops out. The woman starts laughing in a very deep evil villian sort of way as she begins to manaically scratch her outer legs. Creepy music suddenly is on and louder than ever as she scratches and laughs.
Lights fade down first, music follows.
I think that was the same show I stapled ham to a crappy novel. Apparently I wasn't a woman of many words back then.
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Overcast With 90% Chance Rain.
Very Old piece I wrote.
I know the old saying "when it rains it pours", but c'mon now this is getting a little ridiculous. I am asking it to stop now, for the love of God please stop.
I was raised by a lunatic religious woman, who now bounces back and forth between worshiping God and worshiping Manaschevitz. Manaschevitz being the booze that after she drank an entire bottle placed a phone call to me to tell me she felt a little sacrilegious drinking this wine, let alone the whole bottle but... it was ok because after she poured each glass she knelt and said a prayer to God. This you should not doubt for a second and if you were raised by this woman you'd fully understand. Anyway back to my story.... so as a young girl I only knew what I was being taught by my siblings, teachers, and parents. From each direction came the same answer to every problem, "pray to God.", "put it in his hands". So when my young feeble mind was perplexed I prayed. I also was told to live this certain way, a higher standard of being human. Lift your brother up, help the less fortunate, be good and decent and kind. These things I took very seriously, no one clued me in to the fact that most of these God loving liars just told others that's the way to live but didn't apply it to their actual lives. However, when I was young, I was still hopeful and optimistic. At about 8 or 9 is when I realized most people just talked and didn't practice what they talked, and my youthful take on it was that these people were just not strong enough to actually handle what the world had to offer so it was easier to keep it at an arms length. Why hurt, be really happy, or feel anything at all when there is all this glorious numbness. So my way of dealing with this was praying. I must have prayed the same prayer three hundred times. It was always the same, "Dear God seeing that all these people cannot deal with what they have made of this world give me all the crap. When someone needs to see pain, death, sadness, or difficulties just give it to me. My back is strong I can take it. Amen". Man if a human being has ever wanted to eat their words.... I just don't know what eating them would do for me.
Up until this last year I have been able to handle everything that has been thrown my way. I have always been proud of my ability to be resilient, and my ability to handle the life around me. Take this down... I can not handle it anymore. Takebacksee's on that old prayer of mine. I hit a point where all I want is one good thing to happen around me. A nice elderly person in the grocery store saying "hey you dropped your bag of ramen noodles" would be good enough for me. Anything! Instead after I have struggled with an on again off again tweaker as a live in boyfriend who I'm crazy about when he's the guy I met who was full of jokes and understanding and kindness, and not an angry tweaker. The kind of friend I have dreamed of meeting. But now has given me hell over the job I had when I was the only one paying bills and rent. Who, when my closest friend in LA shot himself in his heart and I was cleaning out his house preparing for the funeral the week before my already planned birthday party and I asked him to do one thing for me, which was go to the funeral with me and my birthday party because I knew they would be really hard on me, slept instead. I understand... it was too hard for him. He couldn't deal, so he slept. Who, when I took him to Oregon to meet my mother and sister and my ma's family for my grandfathers 90'th birthday had a temper tantrum because we weren't running around for the two days there doing what he wanted. Got into to it with my mom, which I'm not always her biggest fan but there's this thing when you just suck it up to make it easier for the one you say you love. Who, goes on two month spells of not looking at me or touching me. Who, has made it perfectly clear to me that he's had thinner, prettier, and kinder. Who, when I was raped in Chicago in September which I know is apparently taboo to talk about but fuck it... it happened and what I'm supposed to pretend it didn't because it makes people uncomfortable... well how the fuck do you think I feel, asked me to tell him that I needed him to get through this and the second I did he turned his back because his ex had problems and told me it was all too much for him. So I dealt with it on my own and now it's a problem because I'm not including him in my healing process, well make up you freakin' mind. Then I got canned from my job where I was supposed to be a partner and they just stuck their cold hard dick up my ass, I'm not worried though they'll get theirs. There is an evil side of me that wants to screw them but I don't play that way, as a dear friend of mine drunkenly once said "Bec Bec don't play that". I had saved enough money that I wouldn't have to work for several months and be OK then last Thursday at 4 in the morning I heard my boyfriend in the living room(I was sleeping in the bedroom) saying "Fuck, goddammit, ...oh no". I ran in the living room to see my tiny kitten laying in front of the couch in a pile of his own shit and drool gasping for a breath. Apparently he fell off the couch. "The kitten is going to die", he said. "No he's not", I said, "not on my watch(I wasn't making sense yet)", and grabbed a sweat shirt wrapped it around the kitten and headed to the emergency clinic. The clinic told me they were going to have to put him to sleep.. ironically my boyfriend had just called me to tell me not to go to that clinic because they have a shitload of bad reports on the Internet saying they are euthanasia crazy there. So I told the doctor exactly that and said my cat isn't dying today, not on my watch(still not making much sense). So then they said the only thing that may help is a blood transfusion and that they had an in-house cat with the same blood type but they were closing at 8, it was 7:15am. Funny because their sign said 24hour emergency service which is obviously 10pm-8am. So I called another hospital they didn't have the blood type there but could help. So I had to pay these pricks 780.00 dollars for a bag of blood. So here I am with a shit covered dying kitten in my lap drooling and silently meowing at me for help and a bag of blood next to me in my dead best friends crappy Ranchero racing to the next hospital. After being there for an hour stinking their waiting room up with the poisonous poo smell all over my lap they told me the little guy would be getting a sugar/water i.v. and blood transfusions all day and to come back at 5pm. So I headed home and when I arrived home Boobies one of the other cats was on her death bed. So I grabbed her, and Tremendous the other kitten even though he seemed fine but I wasn't making a third death run. I headed to my normal vet but when I got all the way over there I found out the vet's office had burned down. So I called my boyfriend and asked him to go online and find the vet closest to where I was. Gateway, I got there and they checked the other two out. Turns out Tremendous who seemed fine is the sickest of them all with a life threatening 106 degree temperature, Boobies 105.3. So they got thrown on i.v.'s. At 5 pm I went to gather up all the babies to bring them home to sleep here before taking them back in the morning when my boyfriend call to tell me he was on the toilet when a big grapefruit sized bulge fell from his stomach. I told him he just had a hernia, and I would be home soon to take him to the hospital. So here I sit with dying cats. I can't get their temperatures to go down and I can't afford to take them back to the vets because all my not working savings went to emergency pet care which I wouldn't have it any other way but now I'm screwed. Old hernia apparently went missing. He left today at 1:30 to see his son and ex. It's now 1am and he's not home I guess 3 year olds stay up later these days. I'm tired I miss my best friend who without a doubt would be here helping me with all this shit. He would just sit here and hug me which is all I need. I miss having at least one good thing to hold onto. I'm falling into the numbness, but I won't pretend and tell everyone I'm being nice and holy and great. I'm not... I hate everyone and I'm sick of this disgusting planet we call home. I'm sick of this disgusting place I call home. I owe nobody anything and have done my share. I have worked hard my entire life and have been a very decent person up to this point. Quite honestly I don't give a shit what anyone thinks anymore and I honestly cannot believe how selfish, lonely, and just plain gross this world is. Doesn't anyone have any heart left in them??? Planet of the Apes! Losertown U.S.A.. Society of the Damned, Earth.
Long story short I can't take it anymore.
*Note there may be serious grammatical errors just posting old stuff.
I know the old saying "when it rains it pours", but c'mon now this is getting a little ridiculous. I am asking it to stop now, for the love of God please stop.
I was raised by a lunatic religious woman, who now bounces back and forth between worshiping God and worshiping Manaschevitz. Manaschevitz being the booze that after she drank an entire bottle placed a phone call to me to tell me she felt a little sacrilegious drinking this wine, let alone the whole bottle but... it was ok because after she poured each glass she knelt and said a prayer to God. This you should not doubt for a second and if you were raised by this woman you'd fully understand. Anyway back to my story.... so as a young girl I only knew what I was being taught by my siblings, teachers, and parents. From each direction came the same answer to every problem, "pray to God.", "put it in his hands". So when my young feeble mind was perplexed I prayed. I also was told to live this certain way, a higher standard of being human. Lift your brother up, help the less fortunate, be good and decent and kind. These things I took very seriously, no one clued me in to the fact that most of these God loving liars just told others that's the way to live but didn't apply it to their actual lives. However, when I was young, I was still hopeful and optimistic. At about 8 or 9 is when I realized most people just talked and didn't practice what they talked, and my youthful take on it was that these people were just not strong enough to actually handle what the world had to offer so it was easier to keep it at an arms length. Why hurt, be really happy, or feel anything at all when there is all this glorious numbness. So my way of dealing with this was praying. I must have prayed the same prayer three hundred times. It was always the same, "Dear God seeing that all these people cannot deal with what they have made of this world give me all the crap. When someone needs to see pain, death, sadness, or difficulties just give it to me. My back is strong I can take it. Amen". Man if a human being has ever wanted to eat their words.... I just don't know what eating them would do for me.
Up until this last year I have been able to handle everything that has been thrown my way. I have always been proud of my ability to be resilient, and my ability to handle the life around me. Take this down... I can not handle it anymore. Takebacksee's on that old prayer of mine. I hit a point where all I want is one good thing to happen around me. A nice elderly person in the grocery store saying "hey you dropped your bag of ramen noodles" would be good enough for me. Anything! Instead after I have struggled with an on again off again tweaker as a live in boyfriend who I'm crazy about when he's the guy I met who was full of jokes and understanding and kindness, and not an angry tweaker. The kind of friend I have dreamed of meeting. But now has given me hell over the job I had when I was the only one paying bills and rent. Who, when my closest friend in LA shot himself in his heart and I was cleaning out his house preparing for the funeral the week before my already planned birthday party and I asked him to do one thing for me, which was go to the funeral with me and my birthday party because I knew they would be really hard on me, slept instead. I understand... it was too hard for him. He couldn't deal, so he slept. Who, when I took him to Oregon to meet my mother and sister and my ma's family for my grandfathers 90'th birthday had a temper tantrum because we weren't running around for the two days there doing what he wanted. Got into to it with my mom, which I'm not always her biggest fan but there's this thing when you just suck it up to make it easier for the one you say you love. Who, goes on two month spells of not looking at me or touching me. Who, has made it perfectly clear to me that he's had thinner, prettier, and kinder. Who, when I was raped in Chicago in September which I know is apparently taboo to talk about but fuck it... it happened and what I'm supposed to pretend it didn't because it makes people uncomfortable... well how the fuck do you think I feel, asked me to tell him that I needed him to get through this and the second I did he turned his back because his ex had problems and told me it was all too much for him. So I dealt with it on my own and now it's a problem because I'm not including him in my healing process, well make up you freakin' mind. Then I got canned from my job where I was supposed to be a partner and they just stuck their cold hard dick up my ass, I'm not worried though they'll get theirs. There is an evil side of me that wants to screw them but I don't play that way, as a dear friend of mine drunkenly once said "Bec Bec don't play that". I had saved enough money that I wouldn't have to work for several months and be OK then last Thursday at 4 in the morning I heard my boyfriend in the living room(I was sleeping in the bedroom) saying "Fuck, goddammit, ...oh no". I ran in the living room to see my tiny kitten laying in front of the couch in a pile of his own shit and drool gasping for a breath. Apparently he fell off the couch. "The kitten is going to die", he said. "No he's not", I said, "not on my watch(I wasn't making sense yet)", and grabbed a sweat shirt wrapped it around the kitten and headed to the emergency clinic. The clinic told me they were going to have to put him to sleep.. ironically my boyfriend had just called me to tell me not to go to that clinic because they have a shitload of bad reports on the Internet saying they are euthanasia crazy there. So I told the doctor exactly that and said my cat isn't dying today, not on my watch(still not making much sense). So then they said the only thing that may help is a blood transfusion and that they had an in-house cat with the same blood type but they were closing at 8, it was 7:15am. Funny because their sign said 24hour emergency service which is obviously 10pm-8am. So I called another hospital they didn't have the blood type there but could help. So I had to pay these pricks 780.00 dollars for a bag of blood. So here I am with a shit covered dying kitten in my lap drooling and silently meowing at me for help and a bag of blood next to me in my dead best friends crappy Ranchero racing to the next hospital. After being there for an hour stinking their waiting room up with the poisonous poo smell all over my lap they told me the little guy would be getting a sugar/water i.v. and blood transfusions all day and to come back at 5pm. So I headed home and when I arrived home Boobies one of the other cats was on her death bed. So I grabbed her, and Tremendous the other kitten even though he seemed fine but I wasn't making a third death run. I headed to my normal vet but when I got all the way over there I found out the vet's office had burned down. So I called my boyfriend and asked him to go online and find the vet closest to where I was. Gateway, I got there and they checked the other two out. Turns out Tremendous who seemed fine is the sickest of them all with a life threatening 106 degree temperature, Boobies 105.3. So they got thrown on i.v.'s. At 5 pm I went to gather up all the babies to bring them home to sleep here before taking them back in the morning when my boyfriend call to tell me he was on the toilet when a big grapefruit sized bulge fell from his stomach. I told him he just had a hernia, and I would be home soon to take him to the hospital. So here I sit with dying cats. I can't get their temperatures to go down and I can't afford to take them back to the vets because all my not working savings went to emergency pet care which I wouldn't have it any other way but now I'm screwed. Old hernia apparently went missing. He left today at 1:30 to see his son and ex. It's now 1am and he's not home I guess 3 year olds stay up later these days. I'm tired I miss my best friend who without a doubt would be here helping me with all this shit. He would just sit here and hug me which is all I need. I miss having at least one good thing to hold onto. I'm falling into the numbness, but I won't pretend and tell everyone I'm being nice and holy and great. I'm not... I hate everyone and I'm sick of this disgusting planet we call home. I'm sick of this disgusting place I call home. I owe nobody anything and have done my share. I have worked hard my entire life and have been a very decent person up to this point. Quite honestly I don't give a shit what anyone thinks anymore and I honestly cannot believe how selfish, lonely, and just plain gross this world is. Doesn't anyone have any heart left in them??? Planet of the Apes! Losertown U.S.A.. Society of the Damned, Earth.
Long story short I can't take it anymore.
*Note there may be serious grammatical errors just posting old stuff.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Well I'm At It Again
One hell of a year... leaving me so chalk full of brain candies that I don't even know where to begin.
This was not the year I recieved a golden unicorn atop of a marble cadilac. This was not the year the I moonwalked from Denver to Berlin. This will not be the year I solve all of my problems.
This is the year I turned thirty. This will be the year I go back to school. This will be the year I crawl out of my drunken depression and start living life again.
I have to give a fond adiou to riding around in a hazy stupor on the back of a mo-ped with a Miller Lite 12 pack helmet. It is time I say goodbye to awaking next to strange men and introducing myself with my new black eye. I will let go, and always remember, all the couches beds floors and dashboards I have relieved myself on. It has come to the ripe point in my life that I feel it is necessary to put down my red smearing lipstick and party moomoo and focus on the functioning outfits that hang in my closet(by closet I mean bedroom floor... and hanging more in the sense of just hangin' out.).
My head is so full right now and I want to write everything down but due to the fact that I suffer from the disease of wanting immediate results my writing is coming out like...
To whom it may concern:
lKLUHJHNXHCI 1230999 NCKDIX;X;D DNJDSNAL;JV JS??//?/ FJIOW OWNNF FOLLOW THE HOLEDKJ dncjlK ;cndjhd somewhere to the left of me. hjo IH ndmdlh N lkj then gun to the heart<<< ,, kdj d KHJ hjdjjh;ifbv, and I couldn't even tell you who he was. h jHJKh dhfnn84 jf v skj zmnx hilv therapymn a, ; ... ja jijd ijd Chicago copsk; kh jssk;ncjs. All the Broken ;LJH dnmaja xj l Alone. ,m c hh nnnakj .zjc k. $10,089,00 over the last year. Jh !!!! hj; hkdj iamd.dk ;;j d
Angstrom Niagurala
executive council to the family
Which is incidentally the exact same email I recieved from some family member in Africa who wanted my bank account info. In light of my new being I immediately forwarded the proper information to this lost family of mine. I can't wait to lunch with my cousin/uncle. I guess I am just going to tranfer his 10 billion dollars into my account so he can come over here to the states to live. He said he'd compensate me for helping him but, man, he's family. I'm just glad I was able to help. I wonder if we look alike at all? To think all this time I've lived unaware to the fact that I had family overseas. Who knew. Things are really starting to look up for me now.
I can feel myself slowing down a bit, unwinding. It feels sad and good to not be so wound tight. I feel like I have been sprinting, running fro so long and not breathing. Then my chest got so tight that I had to just stop, fall to the ground. Now I am just taking these really long deep breaths and soon I will be able stand up and start walking and then one day I will be able to jog. Then somewhere in the future, after the extensive knee surgerys, I may be able to run again.
Till then my friends.
This was not the year I recieved a golden unicorn atop of a marble cadilac. This was not the year the I moonwalked from Denver to Berlin. This will not be the year I solve all of my problems.
This is the year I turned thirty. This will be the year I go back to school. This will be the year I crawl out of my drunken depression and start living life again.
I have to give a fond adiou to riding around in a hazy stupor on the back of a mo-ped with a Miller Lite 12 pack helmet. It is time I say goodbye to awaking next to strange men and introducing myself with my new black eye. I will let go, and always remember, all the couches beds floors and dashboards I have relieved myself on. It has come to the ripe point in my life that I feel it is necessary to put down my red smearing lipstick and party moomoo and focus on the functioning outfits that hang in my closet(by closet I mean bedroom floor... and hanging more in the sense of just hangin' out.).
My head is so full right now and I want to write everything down but due to the fact that I suffer from the disease of wanting immediate results my writing is coming out like...
To whom it may concern:
lKLUHJHNXHCI 1230999 NCKDIX;X;D DNJDSNAL;JV JS??//?/ FJIOW OWNNF FOLLOW THE HOLEDKJ dncjlK ;cndjhd somewhere to the left of me. hjo IH ndmdlh N lkj then gun to the heart<<< ,, kdj d KHJ hjdjjh;ifbv, and I couldn't even tell you who he was. h jHJKh dhfnn84 jf v skj zmnx hilv therapymn a, ; ... ja jijd ijd Chicago copsk; kh jssk;ncjs. All the Broken ;LJH dnmaja xj l Alone. ,m c hh nnnakj .zjc k. $10,089,00 over the last year. Jh !!!! hj; hkdj iamd.dk ;;j d
Angstrom Niagurala
executive council to the family
Which is incidentally the exact same email I recieved from some family member in Africa who wanted my bank account info. In light of my new being I immediately forwarded the proper information to this lost family of mine. I can't wait to lunch with my cousin/uncle. I guess I am just going to tranfer his 10 billion dollars into my account so he can come over here to the states to live. He said he'd compensate me for helping him but, man, he's family. I'm just glad I was able to help. I wonder if we look alike at all? To think all this time I've lived unaware to the fact that I had family overseas. Who knew. Things are really starting to look up for me now.
I can feel myself slowing down a bit, unwinding. It feels sad and good to not be so wound tight. I feel like I have been sprinting, running fro so long and not breathing. Then my chest got so tight that I had to just stop, fall to the ground. Now I am just taking these really long deep breaths and soon I will be able stand up and start walking and then one day I will be able to jog. Then somewhere in the future, after the extensive knee surgerys, I may be able to run again.
Till then my friends.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
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