A Time For Reconstruction [17 Jan 2005|07:17pm] [ mood | shit. ] I went to 82 last night after a month or so. Jessica and Erika took me which was awfully nice of them. It was a sweaty fuckhole of dirty bodies and dirty dancing. I only went there for one reason and one reason only; to slap a boy. I missed my chance. I will wait until Wednesday to show up and attack him, fucking prick. I do not like clubs anymore. All I do is hibernate in my room and sleep, sleep, sleep. Another reason I went was to see the boy I currently like. But it's always the same thing every time; he's weird now. He stared at me from across the room the whole night making dumb faces and didn't once come and say hi, which is all I had hoped he would do the whole night. Oh, until the end--When he was leaving--He sat next to me and told me to put my number in his new phone. "Now I have a new phone...So now I can call you." Yeah...Right. Why does it always have to be like this? This weird interruption? Why? Someone please explain it to me. On a lighter note, here are some pictures I took of Minka and I's lovely afternoon walk today! [For those of you who don't know who Minka is, she's my dog and obviously the love of my life.] ( Wonderball ) 18 beat

knock knock [04 Jan 2005|01:43pm] There's nothing left inside of me anymore. Atleast not the top half. I have ears and I do listen, [sometimes], but all of that is absorbed into my thighs. shins. toes. ankles. Making me plump with knowledge. And the top half is just so hollow. You could knock on my ribcage and hear echoes. What a strange looking kid--meat on the bottom and bones on the top. All the knowledge is going to my thighs and slipping inbetween to my puss-- soaking it up and streaming around my sexual organs. But it's not going anywhere important. No where towards the top. Not my brain. Not my heart. Not my stomach. Just thighs. shins. toes. ankles. What do I do with all this extra fat? I can't walk around now that I'm full with the truth. [But if I really felt like it, I could use my empty upper-body to crawl around and drag my heavy legs like slugs.] But I don't feel like it. So I'm stuck as this blob. Big fat blob. I was givin a choice of the Truth Diet or the Atkins Diet. I chose Truth only because Atkins would force feed me to hate meat. And because I was curious. I had never tried it before. But I guess the scientists failed to mention that once you know the secret to the Truth Diet, it doesn't work. It will not restore you back to normal. You're damaged beyond repair or you're just damamged with one foot in. It works in the way of a placebo. Everyone is on the Truth Diet, they just don't know its secret to cutting weight yet. What a piece of work.

ostrich ovaries get axed out. [01 Dec 2004|05:02pm] [ mood | pain mountain ] [ music | erase errata ] I know I haven't updated in a long time. I don't think anything I feel is worth writing down inside an internet journal. Instead, I've enjoyed talking about my theory on being an alien with Jessica. My Thanksgiving was good, I hope yours was too. I put a sign on my door telling all vegans to stay the fuck away from my turkey. For all of you who had tofurkey or whatever the fuck that is, I'm very sorry. My thanksgiving dinner was great. I love meat. And potatos. and veggies. P.E.T.A. can shove my dog's dick in their mouth and suck on that piece of meat. I can't stop eating lately. All I do is eat eat eat eat And it's starting to show. I'm gaining weight like crazy and I'm always hungry. I'm joining Jessica and hibernating in my room till Friday. I'm not going out and don't bother me until then. I need some time alone. Jessica and I came up with a geometrical equation about love. How it's just chemicals and hormones and everyone is a big baby starving for temporary feelings. I've come to the conclusion that the answer to everything is to be a giant slut. Well, not a slut, but pleasing myself instead of focusing on the pleasure of others. I'm tired of getting wrapped up in bad feelings about men. It's ridiculous and an incredibly large waste of my valuable time. From now on I will do everything by animal instinct. Tigers and lions have sex all day because they have nothing better to do. No strings attached but their whiskers. I intend to do the same. That is all.

[28 Oct 2004|03:19pm] i just want you all to know i'm not getting any better. me and jessica keep reminding eachother that we can overcome anything. obstacles boys life boundaries i can see it. but it's not tangible yet. and because of this i'm sitting here frustrated and unnerved, twitching about. I can't stand anyone anymore. Maybe it's just a bad day. and i really am proceeding with my strike on boys and no sex. P.S. my birthday is sunday. go to club gaytey two (or 82, whatever) and afterwards i'm having a party. someone stole my cigarettes last weekend so i would appreciate it if you bought me cigarettes. I will have cake and I will probably end up crying, so don't be surprised. Hah, there hasn't been one year where I haven't cried on my birthday. how fucking pathetic. jessica, i love you.

Burial Manouvers [17 Oct 2004|09:11pm] [ mood | shit ] [ music | clinic ] ( I love these boys ) 13 beat

I AM A DICK. [16 Oct 2004|04:21pm] I'm sick. My head feels like a hot fucking potato shoved up in my nasal passage. Nevertheless, I promised a sneak peak. ( burr's new hurrs ) P.S. I finally have proof that there is, infact, a funnier movie than Napoleon Dynamite that's not only actually funny, but worth seeing 20 times. And worth quoting. GO SEE TEAM AMERICA. My good god, it's amazing. Eat my ass, Napoleon. Eat my ass. 14 beat

[25 Aug 2004|11:38pm] [ music | billy liar- the decemberists ] A photoshoot with thee Tyler Shields. ( r0x )

Oh nosss [11 Aug 2004|02:55am] Lockdown.

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