Wednesday, February 28, 2007

swallow the knife

i really dont care anymore. no..thats a lie. i care too much. i want to be able to stop caring but i dont even know what i want. i hate not knowing. i i hate the unknown. i think thats why i hate math. because i dont like not knowing the solution to somthing.

my grandmother is dying. she has dementia and doesnt know it. i dont think i could live like she does...not knowing. if i was her, id throw myself off a cliff and just end it all. not even her dementia freaks me out...she's completly dependant on everyone to take care of her. i think that would bother me more. i dont need help and i get offended if someone thinks i do.

we are children of the goddess. she breathed life into us and she was perfect. because we are from her we are perfect. the goddess danced between raindrops and walked upon the snow and left no footprints. we are from her and can do the same. if we were to do otherwise, we would be admiting imperfection and therefore proving the goddess wrong. she is never wrong. and we are her children...we are never wrong.

except she is dying...and there is nothing i can do about it.

when she dies...and she will. i honistly do not know if i will care. she was never nice to me at all. and it was just understood that i was the screwed up child and i was to stay out of her way. i think when she finally dies it will be a huge burden off my sholders.

she will be gone and free...can i be jelous?

except there lays the other problem...my mother likes her. i mean...she should because she is her mother. but i mean...my mother will be an orphan.

i guess then she will know what it feels like to be truly alone.

but the one diffence between me and her is that she craves the dependance whilst i shun it.

quod me nutrit, mi distruit. what nourishes me destroys me.

....it could never be so true.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

the list

i like lists. really i do. they help me organize my thoughts...which...lets be honist...are never really organized.

anyways...this list. i dont really have a title for this one. it's more the random thoughts that have been bundled up in my head all day. and need to come out. because i think otherwise my brain would explode. and thats not pretty. but neither am i. so i dont know if it would be an improvement or not.

1. i study better and write better once i've had a few shots in me. is this bad? i dont think so. it helps me be less cerebral which i need to be especially around midterm week. i had a few shots a few minutes ago and .......i feel pretty damn good.

2. thoreau's resistance to civil government is absolutly fucking amazing. while i'm not in any way advocating anarchy or violent revolution a la karl marx, thoreau has a point. people need to not be so lazy. if somthing horrible is going on...be it slavery or genocide (speaking of genocide...http://www.cnn.com/2007/WORLD/europe/02/27/sudan.darfur.reut/index.html...the ICC finally got off their asses in naming war criminals for the situation in darfur)...you are just as guilty for sitting on your ass and not working to end it than if you were perpatrating the act yourself. and thoreau's right.... " any man more right than his neighbors, constitutes a majority of one already". good actions transend time. look at jody williams...just an ordanary woman who realized landmines were doing more harm than good and actually did somthing about it...(more on her here http://nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/peace/laureates/1997/williams-cv.html).

3. '90s rock was pretty awesome. i've been on this goo goo dolls (a la dizzy up the girl), eve 6, natalie imbruliega, third eye blind kick the past few days. i like it...........alot. i dont know why. but it works for me more than the usual crap that's sold to the masses nowdays.

4. vodka is amazing.

5. whoever thought 9:30 was an acceptable time to have class was seriously deranged.

6. i am getting sick and i dont have time to.

7. i am tired of losing. i want to win. and i dont care what i have to do or who i have to sell out to do it. fuck you if youre not with me and get the hell out of my way cuz i want to WIN.

8. vodka is god.


yes...that was todays list. get over it.

Monday, February 26, 2007

i hate my sleeping pills

pssh sleeping pills. oh how you test me. i took only ONE of you at midnight last night thinking that i might actually get a few hours of blissful, uninterrupted sleep. not so much. you didnt kick in untill 3am. and its....11:42 p.m. now and you still havent left my system. as a result of you hating me so much...i fell asleep in religion, slept through music and started nodding off in terrorisim & justice today. and lets not forget the hour nap that turned into a 5-hour snoozefest. YOU SUCK SLEEPING PILLS!!!


<-- Doxepin...the DEVIL.
now...not only am i extremly groggy still but i also have to finish questions for international relations and create a primer on college dems for our new advisor. blah. all i want to do is sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

Sunday, February 25, 2007

not ready to back down



these were also from yesterday...thanks to le padre for sending them to me.



thats right bitches...i'm fierce and WILL never back down. it sucks because we were so fucking close and we couldnt pull it off. but that in NO way means that i am going to stop. losing so badly last cycle is going to make it even sweeter when we pull it off in '08... i'm talking al the way...increase our majority in the house and the senate....turn nj-7 blue...take back the white house....

i want this so bad.

a plain morning

its really early on a sunday and i'm awake. wide freaking awake on a sunday morning before 10. this is depressing.

my dad just left. he called my cell at 7:30 and told me since it was already starting to hail outside he was just going to start back to jersey. i guess that makes sence. in a weird way i'm relived because we had what could be thought of as a good day yesterday. and i think that if he and i hung out today it'd just get to be too much and somthing shitty would happen...as it always does.

i love how i am always waiting for the other shoe to drop. i can't just be content with somthing not being horrible, i have to question its motives for being good until my constant questioning turns it bad.

anways...before my dad left he came to campus to drop off my riding stuff. that was nice of him i guess. i mean i definatly want to go ride when it gets warmer or the ground isnt as frozen. there really is nothing like getting on top of a horse and just taking off, wandering through the mountains here. or not even that...just the feeling you get after you take a hunter course clear and know all the jumps were pretty. i dont know why i stopped...i miss riding. it gave me somthing to look forward to every week...to be able to spend the weekend at the barn. oh wait, i know. the people there were horrible. the horses sucked for the most part. and it was rediculously expensive. i hate not having money...

i just looked out my window and its snowing! i dont care if it's extremly childish...i love snow and if anyone tried to quell my excitement over this marvelous form of precipitation i just wont talk to them anymore ;) . i remember all through elementary school, whenever it started snowing the teachers would close the windows and blinds so we wouldnt see it. out of sight out of mind i guess. cuz that really worked guys...we're kids. we have this sixth sence for snow.

now that i'm unfourtionally older....ive just come to appreciate the beauty of snow even more. there is nothing like walking around at night right after or during a snowstorm. everything looks so pure....so virginal. like nothing could ever touch it.

because i'm a loser... i was reading some more dickinson. i dont know what forces we're hiding 561 from me but by some miracle i stumbled upon it this morning.

561
I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, Eyes
I wonder if It weighs like Mine
Or has an Easier size.


I wonder if They bore it long
Or did it just begin
I could not tell the Date of Mine
It feels so old a pain.

I wonder if it hurts to live
And if They have to try
And whether – could They choose between
It would not be – to die.

I note that Some – gone patient long
At length, renew their smile
An imitation of a Light
That has so little Oil.

I wonder if when Years have piled
Some Thousands – on the Harm
That hurt them early – such a lapse
Could give them any Balm.

Or would they go on aching still
Through Centuries of Nerve
Enlightened to a larger Pain
In Contrast with the Love.

The Grieved – are many – I am told
There is the various Cause
Death – is but one – and comes but once
And only nails the eyes.

There's Grief of Want – and grief of Cold
A sort they call "Despair"
There's Banishment from native Eyes
In Sight of Native Air.

And though I may not guess the kind
Correctly – yet to me
A piercing Comfort it affords
In passing Calvary.

To note the fashions – of the Cross
And how they're mostly worn
Still fascinated to presume
That Some – are like My Own.

i love a good bit of prose in the morning.

wow...the snow is really coming down now. i might just have to go onto the balcony and take pictures. i know it's depressing but i love grey days. the contrast of the blackened trees against the almost white sky, lightly kissed with shades of dark green and a touch of brown. yes...definatly picture time. then i'm curling up with some tea and reading for classes till i have to pretend i like kids at this admitted students day thing. such BS. whatever. if it gets me more freshies for college dems then i guess its worth putting up with them for a few hours.

Saturday, February 24, 2007

what else can we do but try?

dad came down today from jersey. i never know how to feel when either he or mother show up (with or without their respective spouse or fling of the week). even though they are my family, i don't consider them to be. i don't like them having control over me and whenever i see or hear from them, it inevatilby brings me back to place where i dont want to be. let's face it...i had a shitty childhood. it wasn't the worst case situation (for the most part) but it was far from easy. and i guess being somewhat on my own here allows me to escape all the crap i had to deal with back home.

it's always slightly (and by slightly, i mean extremly) awkward when my dad shows up. even though we're pretty much exactly the same in every single way...down to drinking our diet cokes with lime slightly squeezed on the side...we're just starting to get onto good terms. it's been pretty good since ive been away. i mean...he's good in small doses but i dont think i could ever go back to living with him & his wife or my mother. i need my own space and to be in control of my own life. that being said though... i'm not going to say no to them putting money in my bank account or taking me shopping. but even then, i feel bad. i guess it's because i don't want to feel dependant on them, i know its hypocrytical for me to allow them to pay for things for me when i can't really stand their presence for an extended period of time.



that being said...today was actually a good day i think. i origionally thought we were just going to stay around frederick and shop or whatever but my dad suprised me and said we should go into dc. this of course made me extremly happy. i love dc. somthing about white marble makes me disgustingly happy. not even that though. i am just so envious of people who work on the hill or with lobbys or ngos or interest groups. they are actually doing somthing...helping to effect change. and right now...i dont feel like i am. anyways. we ended up driving in, which i dont mind on a saturday midday...less traffic. and it was so beautiful out.


cuz i am such a freaking politics whore, i ended up walking over to the hill. this was the first time that i'd been able to bring myself to actually face the capital building since losing in '06. losing is never easy but i think last cycle just stung more than it should have. but today...walking up towards the dome...i felt this strange sence of peace come over me. the whole while, my dad and i were talking. he asked if it was depressing for me to be by the capital when we had some close to winning and i said no. which is true. i think it was more motivating than anything. just to purposly rub my face in what we could have and came so close to having that we could see linda being sworn in as the congresswoman from new jersey.

no matter how many times i am on the hill, be it for work or visiting or jogging in the morning (it looks so beautiful at sunrise), i am always humbled. so much history...not all (or even most of it) good but at least they were doing what they believed in.


afterwards, he and i just talked. i told him how i want to maybe take off a year so i can do the race in the 7th. he's pissed. but i dont care. its my life. and if i want to do it then fuck you i am. since when did i start listening to people?


he's coming to get me tomorow morning for coffee before he heads home. i guess tomorow after that i should go do homework. i cant believe the semester is halfway through. whatever... every day brings me closer to summer where i can lose myself in vermont and do what i love.


on a completly unrelated subject... ive been reading dickinson for the past few days. i like it. she has this perverse sence of humor and desperation in her writing. i love it. either that or i just finally learned how to appreciate poetry.


what i wouldnt do for a vodka martini right now...










Friday, February 23, 2007

true confession

let me start this by saying that i'm drunk. and my dad is going to be here at 1 p.m. tomorow to pick me up to visit with me. and i'm drunk. but that is ok. because i am extremly pensive when i am intoxiated. and honist. and because of this...i have some confessions.

1. i truly am my father's daughter. i know i said i would never become him but whoops...i am. sorry mother... i became the man you hate. and i will never ever ever hate him because he loves me unconditionally... and i know you will never be like that. he and i not only have the same physical charactoristics but the same mannerisims. we listen to the same music and like the same food and have the same weakness for vodka. he and i both love high fashion and can appreciate the hilarious stupidity of a movie like dumb and dumber. we both love shopping and love high fashion and constantly spend money we dont have. we like the same politics and...unlike you...he actually gives a damn about races i work on. yeah...when was the last time you ever showed up to an event i was helping with or made a donation to my candidate? yeah...aside from the corzine memorial day event...never. and who actually does things with me... museums...movies...shopping...you? no...i think not. its all him. sorry mother...you suck. and we will NEVER have the relationship daddy and i have. because he actually cares about me whereas you think of me as just somthing else you have to deal with.

2. imiss my campaign people. i mean i know i fucked up big time with jorge and nick and jenn but i miss them. they saved my life. seriously. before i started working on campaigns i was more fucked up than i am now and frankly not in a very good place. but they ...through their own fucked up way of pushing me to the brink of sanity and helping me realize the beauty in a perfectly coalatived mailing or the absolute delicate chaos of walk packets that can be so satisfying. and p.s. during the '04 race i had a MAJOR thing for nick that i'm still not completly over. and jorge...you really hurt me this past cycle when you said i was messed up and trying to grow up too fast. i cant help how i am and if you cant deal wth who i am and dont want to even make the effort to get to know me even though you did so much for me and i never asked for anything then honislty jorge i dont want to know you. and jenn i am so sorry. i never meant to accidently blow cigarette smoke in your face 2 days before e-day. i was having a cigarette with frank and we were talking and he made me laugh right after i inhaled and it came out really hard. i respect you more than any other person i know. you are so smart and talented and so together and i would never ever do anything to intentionally hurt you.

3. i want to save the world. i dont know what that means exactly but i do know a few things:
- good writing can change the world
- the chaos theory is true...there can be order and even beauty within the most fuckedup of messes
- genocide is not a partisan issue. it is a human issue. and if you condone genocide or even try to do so in my presence or i hear about it i will kick your ass.
-i dont know what it is but there is somthing telling me that i need to do somthing to stop the genocide in Darfur. and we cant sit ilidy by on this one...its too important. if you wont help me...i'll do it alone.

4. i am going to be a speechwriter. i love the english language. and i want to do somthing to persuade people. i figure since i love politics and having the opportunity to effect change, i might as well go for it and become a speechwriter. sorry phil and kim...as much as you'd like to think that i'm trying to emulate you....i'm not. deal with it. this is what i should be doing and i guess it's a coincidence that you do it too. and when it comes down to it...i will be at your level because i can write and i am FEARLESS and whether it takes me 3 or 5 years to get to that level depends on if you help me or not. if you dont...it your own fault because youre scared of what i can do. dont worry...i will never steal your jobs unlike you two, i'm loyal.

now...since when i re-read this in a few hours when im sober i'm going to regret this i should probably stop. but whatever. this is the truth i've been so scared to show.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

emerson and divinity

so i'm taking this american lit class at school... it's going a lot better than i expected. i'm more into it than i thought i would be. i guess because i love good writing and language... it's really interesting to see how literature evolved into what it is today. and i've established that i want to do do something with language so keeping that in the back of my mind when i read is really helpful. it's making me look more at the rhetoric and helps me make connections to the author's contemporarys and to the external influences that affect writing (i.e. Mary Rowlandson ---really into Puritanical influences---relating her captivity as a test from God for not being as devout as she should be). and i guess i see some of that in my own writing... not even topically but word choice and stylistically.

we're just getting into the trancidentalists now. personally, i love the trancidentalists...especially emerson, peabody and thoreau. just their sheer audacity in questioning the church and what defines divinity. i think this especially works for me, for where i am right now, because even though i've been questioning my faith and the validity of organized religions for some time now, im just starting to piece together my definition of what constitutes the divine.

anyways...for today we read emerson's "nature". if you're not familliar with emerson's style he's kind of a pain to get through but trust me, it's always worth it. being a panthiest, emerson feels the divine is present in everything...but at the root of all divinity is nature.

"nature never wears a mean appearance." nature is the only thing that can be taken at face value...and even that isnt always true. emerson feels that nature is eternally happy and is not subject to distruction in any form. i like this idea...of nature's constant state of joy. it, in a weird way, gives me hope that there is still some form of pure happiness alive in the world.

i guess the main theme of "nature" is emerson's beleif that if you experiance nature firsthand...just by sitting outside and taking in what your sences feel, you learn all the secrets of life. my professer made the connection to fractals in math (to a class mostly composed of english majors or minors!)...how everything is organized the same as a the larger picture. emerson says, "each particle is a microcosm, and faithfully renders the likeness of the world." even though i dont know if i believe that, i like the idea. kind of how everything in life is circular...ashes to ashes...dust to dust.

i think nature to me is more contemplative. there's this spot up in the watchung mountains where i used to horseback ride. i haven't ridden there in a while but when i'm home and it's nice i try to get up there. when the sun hits the trees and filters down to the lillypads and gently kisses the pond...it's so beautiful...sometimes i think that if there is some sort of higher power, this could be evidence of it.

or just the wind today, carrying green-grey clouds and invading the pristine blue sky...watching the clouds tumble in, saying "ani po!" (loosely translates to "i'm here!" for non-hebrew speakers). just looking at the sky for a bit earlier, i felt this sense of...peace.

i think that's what emerson is talking about in "nature". you don't have to believe in god. god is what works for you... all that really matters is that you find peace.

which...lets face it...is a rareity these days.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

i am my prison

i was just listening to the really old song "rise from the ashes" by quietdrive and its kind of unnerving how its expresses pretty much exactly how i feel right now. i'm just so...i dont know. part of me wants to break free from the proverbial shackles that are permenantly supressing what i really want to do.

because i'm going into politics, i dont allow myself to do a lot of things that i'd like to. i want to travel... visit greece, israel, walk the great wall of china, raft down the amazon... but i cant. in my mind i have no time. i need to finish my undergrad as soon as humanly possible, while still working on campaigns and with dfa. i need to get my duel masters in public policy and rhetoric. i need to have one book published by the time i'm 25. i need to make sure we win nj-7 and keep it a democratic seat. i need to be working in DC, writing speeches or consulting. i need to do volunteer work. i need to do somthing important...go to darfur and work in the refugee camps or teach english to kids in india...somthing of the sort.

i am petrified of failure. my freshman year of high school, i made a list of what i want to do before i die. and i feel as if every day i am closer to death but i have not made the progress i would have liked to. i am truly unhappy with where i am in life. with me, it's always about what's next. i cant be content with where i am now and what i am doing. if i become lax with my goals, everything i have done so far will have been for naught.

i think also though, i have always been known as the "political one". in high school, instead of going out and doing normal kid stuff, i spent my time on campaigns. if it was the off-season, i was at home...tracking legislation and writing letters to the editor about...everything. everything that was wrong with my town and the government and what needs to be done about it. i skipped my senior prom...it was the weekend before the primary. even now... its the only thing i feel entirely confident talking about. i know no other world than the political one.

but i think at the root of my problems...not even career related... is that i care too much. at the end of the day, i cant fix everything. i cant stop a genocide. i cant ensure every woman worldwide's access to fair and true reproductive health information. i cant make the government lower the voting age, to make kids a constuancy witin themselves, even though it is their decisions that will effect us 25 years from now. i cant go into a time machine and learn how to have fun. i cant make him...or anyone...love me. and no matter how hard i try, at the end of the day, i cant (nor will i ever be) perfect.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

martini memories

crappy day today. overall...it was just that. crappy. after putting up with about all i could handle, i decided it was martini time.
the martini time phenomnon started back with my friend. she was there for me...unconditionally. on the worst days, when i didnt want to even get out of bed to do it again, she'd give me a martini and tell me to grow a set. thats my friend for you. she'll push you to the brink and bring you right back to sanity in the same sentence.
now...whenever i have a bad day, when i just cant take it anymore...i sit back, pour myself a martini and breathe.

today...during martini time, my mind wandered back to my family. i guess maybe because passover is coming up and i dont know if i'm going to the saders. this year's been especially rough for my family. but hell, if its not gong to be hard then what's the point? as much as i bitch & moan about them...when it comes down to it, i would not be the person i am today without their constant criticism.

martini time also brings out the writer in me. not even just martini time does that to me over the past few days, ive been writing more than i have in months. maybe its my insomnia or is my psyche intentionally keeping me awake...urging me to write...to do somthing constructive with my thoughts instead of letting them fester in the depths of my brain.

--the sunroom--
she raced up the stairs
(all 48 of them)
into the third appartment on the right.

without knocking she barged in,
a tornado of excitement,
landing right in poppie's arms.

he always gave the best hugs.

they walked hand in hand.
she could barely reach his fingertips.
but when they did touch,
his tan, aging hand against her tiny, juvinile palm
...it was magic.

she pulled him towards the sunroom.
golfcarts whirled below,
a light breeze off the intercoastal gently caressed the palm trees.

the room,
decorated in hues of silver
reflected their last name.

and how fitting it was.
the sun dancing with the little girl and her poppie,
casting them both under its intricate spell.

he soon tired
so they sat.

"poppy, what does beautiful mean?"
she asked,
glancing up with the inquisive eyes that only a four-year-old has.
"this." he replied.

it truly was.










when we die, what will they say?

one of the courses i'm taking this semester is basically an intro to news writing focusing on the basics-- objectivity, leads, AP style...that sort of stuff. it's pretty easy and i guess i'm just using it to fine-tune my writing so if by some miracle i get picked up by a campaign next cycle i won't suck as bad as i did in '06.

i haven't really through much about the assignments for the course until now. the professer asked us to write an obituary for richard nixon, without looking at any of his obituarys from when he died in 1994. i think it's a really good assignment, if only to see how my classmates attack this. there is so much you can say about a person, especially one with a tumoltious history as nixon has (had?).

the whole assignment got me thinking... when i die, what do i want written about my life. it's standard just to stick to the fluff "a loving individual", etc. but, 50 years from someone's death if you read the obit, it never really gives you the escence of the person. what was their favorite color? did they sleep late? when it snowed, did they love to take walks in it? what were their vices...drugs, cigarettes, an attitude? did they organize their closet and room (house?) to the point of perfection? did they believe in god? you're not going to get the real picture of who someone is (was?) from reading about which church they attended or quoting their gushing family members who only want to remeber the best.

but then...what is the point of even writing on obit anymore? they all sound the same. it's as if the newspapers have a fill-in-the-blank form for just the specifics.

when i die... i dont want them to write "she was nice to everyone and always had a smile on". i'm not that nice and i dont smile that much. i want my family to pick up the newspaper and read about the real me...the passionate me who doesn't believe in doing anything with less than 100% effort applied to it. the me who can't parallel park, who loves photography and calls the hour before sunset the "magic hour" because the light is so perfect. the me who hates what the religious ultra-conservatives have (had?) to say but will fight to the death to protect their right to say it. the me who thinks people who don't vote are lazy.

but nobody would publish that...
because then their undeniable truths would come out too. and secrecy is the name of the game.

Monday, February 19, 2007

works in progress

someone once told me that writing is therapeautic. at first i wanted to smack them for insinuating that i need therapy (which i KNOW i do need but to take the initative and acutally go get help would be so uncharactoristic for me... i dont know if i would be able to). but now, after hitting rock bottom and being unable to move from it, i kind of see what they mean. i guess, its just a way for me to get out of my head for a bit.

anyways...i started the works below over the weekend. i am in no way a decent writer, nor should i be considered one. but hell, i'm trying.

---five words to save a life ---
my next tattoo is going to be

{{quod mi nutrit mi distruit}}
what nourishes me destroyes me.

on my neck
in the shape of a noose.

can i help you?
-yes. i'll take one proverbial hanging please
and lets make sure this one works.

as for color
white, i'm thinking.

snow white
but when she bites the apple, this time she wont wake up with just a kiss.
if at all.

so white
pure as my worship of those five words.
quod mi nutrit mi distrut.

five words
that can define a life
and simultaniously
destroy it.

---you win---
shot one.
the vodka lightly splashes itself into the glass,
so cold.
this hurts me more than it should.
the frigid salvation makes its way down my throat.
slightly burning,
calming though.

shot two.
i pause,
trying to comprehend you walking out.
but you are killing me.
the warmth caresses my broken form.
my body gently accepting its fate,
allowing the bitter liquid to reach its destination.

shot three.
at this point,
the glass is refilling itself.
you make it impossible to love you.
i dont want to feel anything.
dont think,
just keep drinking.

screw this.
i say as i down the rest of the bottle,
cherishing every drop.
i wish you the worst in life.
crawl under the covers.
how many more nights will it take,
until i lose his memory forever.

never?
fair enough.
at least liquor stores aren't an endangered species.

---shh---
faux:
emo
emotion
motion.

continuous motion
carrying us
ebb and flow
towards...what?

"what do you mean i'm crazy?"

hit
fall
collapse.

into your arms?

away into the abyss of your eyes,
moving me
closer.

towards the eternal goal of

"you're crazy for being with me then!"

tear fall.
except we come from the godess,
who has absolved us of any emotion.

but we cant
wont
shouldnt.

let anyone know that.


---love it---
misery
misery loves
misery loves company.
..and i'm the guest of honor.

for what?

"vacancy at table one" they cry.
when questioned,
"all seats must be filled for the party to start".

yes,
party.
pity party?

oh no.
to cherish the past,
and embrace the misery.

without.

the constant ache,
we
just wouldnt feel alive.

Sunday, February 18, 2007

what is this place?

i guess i'm just using this as a venue for my writing and thoughts and that sort of crap. just to get them out of my head for a bit.

in religion class the other day i was still pretty drunk from the night before. the class is dull and usually i would sit counting the minutes until i could leave and drag my pathetic self back into seclusion from the world. but, i get deathly honest when i'm drunk. and i came to a bunch of realizations about myself and subsequently, my interactions with humanity.

- i'm jelous of anna nicole smith.

- i envy anorexics and try to force them out of recovery.

- people can't live with me.

- i know i'm at a higher risk for alchohalisim but i drink anyways. alot.

- i'm an attention whore.

- i'm always seeking that moment of satisfaction but i have no idea what true satisfaction is.

- i'm vain.

- i hate cigarettes but i think they not only make me look like i don't care but also help me play into the "damaged" label.

- i love being steryotyped.

- i love throwing up.

- i love being completly empty.

- i act a lot dumber then i really am.

- i refuse to ask for help.

- i'm afraid to be normal.

- i obsess.

- i constantly feel like i'm spinning really fast and i cant stop but i don't really want to.









<--c'est moi.













till later.