I wish someone understood my extreme sensitivity to everything.

I’m starting to get use to sirens in the midst of my favourite song. The clash of the hussle with my tortoise-like pace. There it is again. Again! Again, my dearest Ann.

It’s so fucking time to ((((((SlEeP*mOvE*sCrEaM*tHiNk*FeEl*CrY*sPiN*bArF))))))

Counting the months. 6 Months. 1……2…..3….4…5..6.
I sit @ home
@ my desk alone
As I use to do
On many Sunday afternoons
When you came back to me
Your arms ached for me
& your arms would close me in
Though they smelled of other women
Other Women.

Please don’t come back this month. I can’t take it.

I should write better things here.

Like this…
(Apr/22/03)
I hope you’re happy, because I’m sad, and we have to keep a balance.

& This…
(Jan/21/03)
Join me in my bed. I?ll be waiting. Let?s lay nude & curl our legs around each other; Touch me accidentally. That?s all I want. Let?s rape my sheets & new duvet. Make them pay.

& Sure, even this:
(May/05/03)
Today I have to go up to my Dad’s & use Kyle’s printer. The covers I made for my mom’s CD aren’t coming out right! The front cover is good enough. I’ll leave it alone. But the back cover? It has issues. I wonder if I can use that to explain our relationship.

But I don’t! This site rarely sees anything I consider remotely good. I never write heartfelt — stuff — here! Anything that’s ever ended up here that meant something to me was composed elsewhere. Livejournal, deardiary, notepad, my bed.. The bath! Maybe I’d like to be anywhere but here? Haha come on now! My writing style depends on the audience. Not to mention the writing I choose to be an audience to.

Whatever that means. The more people read — Or I guess I should say: The more people I think are reading, the worse my writing gets.

I feel this post to be useless, too. I just don’t have any epiphanies to share outside of myself. And I don’t like to be personal here.

I have 6 blogs & they all serve different purposes. I’ve been using this one the longest & I still don’t know what I’m doing with it.

Well, here I am, again. Five AM already, you say? My perfectionist side says it’s 4:45 — I’ve always been more of a casual rounder. I promised myself I would go to bed earlier tonight. That’s a lie, but I still meant to anyways. Good enough, right? I did try! Believe me, I did: A good 20 minutes after reading ‘Jack Bean’. He’s got me reading before bed, among other things. Humph, a lot of good it does me. Schitzer (my cat) is sound on the back of my loafer-of-a-chair, only looking up @ the sprinkling of tobacco against a Zig Zag. Midnite (my other cat), is also quite sound, though on a towel left behind on the couch cushion after yet another wonderful shower. Sometimes I forget how good they are (both my cats & the shower).

Did you catch that tobacco bit? Ya, I figured you might of. I’ve started again, but I must say I’m proud of the month I lasted! Quite the amazement to me considering I’ve smoked more than my share for over 6 years. I’ll conquer this habit. I’ve conquered the rest: Just the puff of a joint, & a drink (or 4) on rare occasion. I don’t know why I’ve thrown out my bad habits really. Well, the most visible anyways. The ones I let people know about. What’s the point? I mean, besides making me feel like shit — Really? What’s the fucking point? God knows I already feel like shit 24/6. That’s right, 24/6. Lets be a perfectionist again, for a moment.. 24/6.5. Ya, that sounds about right. I get about 12 hours a week of feeling good — Healthy, even. Maybe even happy! I don’t write about this stuff because I don’t think most people care. Most? I don’t think the people I wish cared even care. That’s all that matters. Sure, my dad holds his head up high & feels good that he is financially & physically stABLE enough to support his daughter through such a treacherous time. And I guess he should be proud. He should be. I know I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. But, hah! Is that really a good thing?

Sticking something in here along the lines of ‘My life has taken a turn for the better/worst’ would be very comforting. Yep, even ‘worst’, but I can’t say that. I can’t say that my life has turned, or shifted, or taken off in anyway what so ever in the past 3 years. Three years. That’s a long time to be stagnate. That’s a long time to be lonely & an even longer time to be sad. Or am I angry? I can never figure that out.

There is more, believe it or not:
(more…)

Defenestrate — To throw out of a window

Where do we get this stuff!!? =P

In other news.. There are some pretty cool Fraggle Rock lighters for sale on Ebay, I’m now 20 (somebody fucking shoot me) &, uuh.. I’m buying a new couch! Yup… Life is.. Something.

& Yet I know it well.

A stranger in this world without you/ Is all that I can ever be./ All I know that’s pure and clear/ You left it with me here in this souvenir.

Lies! All lies.

(Credit to Poe — Spanish Doll)

Ever since I started writing in blogs I’ve wanted to start off an entry with “Grr.. I am so angry!” Dunno why! But that’s the first thing that always comes to mind when I start to write something that will eventually show its ugly head online. Today happens to be a day when I will, & can truthfully use that sentence…

Grrrrrr!!!!! I am so damn angry! I am not having the best of days & it’s not even 8am! I went to bed @ about 2:15 this morning thinking I would get a nice, normal sleep tonight, but my body had other plans for me. See, first off, I decided (actually, I ran out of cigarettes) that I’d try, yet again, to quit smoking. So, it’s around 1am; I stick on a patch & surf the net a bit. I haven’t been feeling well the last couple of days.. Temps been up, woozy, etc, etc. So not 10 minutes later, guess who shows up! Aunt Rose!

If you don’t know what that means, you’re probably better off (~nudge~nudge~ the rag, the monthlies… My period, for you loose screws)! & Don’t even squirm about that because you don’t have the right unless you deal with it.

So anyways… I’ve got my patch on.. I’m bleeding….. I’m in pain!! & The worst part is, that the patch keeps me up. So this morning, instead of getting what could of been the best damn sleep I’ve had in a week or two, or three, for that matter.. I’m dealing with insomnia & nausea. Hah! What a mix. What a $#@*!#% mix! Oh ya, & withdrawals. Geebuz! ~slams head on desk~

The patch, thank god for it keeping me filled with nicotine goodness, but the insomnia!! Not now! I get enough of that without the patch, thank-you very much! But compared to ‘patch-insomnia’, it’s nothing! I mean, it’s BAD! I swear, this thing is just pumping caffeine into my veins, & although caffeine in liquid form will make me pass out while standing, it has a completely opposite effect when it’s stuck to my forearm.

I think I did sleep maybe an hour, but I lay in bed with dry mouth for.. Hold on — let me count.?. 3 hours! Though, there is one thing I do like about the patch. When I finally do get some sleep, I have the most insane, neurotic, & vivid dreams! It’s unbelievable. They’re so realistic & memorable. I love that! But nothing compares to a nice drag of a nicotine stick. Nothing.

I am so addicted.

Oh ya, btw.. Tomorrow will make it 2 years since I?ve smoked pot regularly. As in, almost every day (a couple times a day) for 4 years, although I have, once in a blue moon (3 blue moons when my mother showed up out of nowhere) smoked a joint in the past 2 years.

Blue. Eyes. The eyes of a child enemy, who will not let the world see the unhappiness hidden within him. Blue is named Tsukiyono Omi.

This is part of a ‘poem’ that can be seen here: Wonder

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I told you I’d get a monkey & his name would be Eh & we’d appear in a comic together. What I didn’t say is that we’d be in a band together, too! =P So, let me introduce you to a monkey on drums. Oh, & you might want to read the previous comic to get ‘caught up’ =)