I SHAVED MY HEAD. :O













JUST KIDDING,

but seriously, yeah, I am definitely considering doing just that. On the other hand, I love just how fucking curly my hair is lately. Fuck feeling obligated to straighten my hair, because my cherubic hair is plain adorable. But, I feel like I need a change, something drastic. But, I want to grow my hair out. But, I want a mohawk. But, I hate the upkeep! I mean, what doesn't require upkeep? Long hair. What don't I have yet? Long hair. What do I love/hate? That quite possibly awkward growing stage. Besides, what if I don't look good with a mohawk anymore, or with a shaved head? What if I grew out of being able to pull off all of that crazy shit? Is that possible? Do I really give a shit? I think that's the misconception concerning mohawks and shaved heads... despite how it seems, you kind of have to give a shit to keep shaving your head and spiking that motherfucker. Gah, and all the fucking product you have to put into your fucking hair is ridiculous! I can't decide if it's worth it or not. Eh, it will work itself out. After all, it's just hair! I've done it before. Short pixie cut? Check. Dykey soccer mom hair? Check. Fascimullet? Check. Relatively long hair? Check. Shaved head? Check. Mohawk? Check. Half-shaved head? Check, but kind of too much. Anyways, I am not going to curl up into a tiny ball and cry if I dislike my haircut. It's just surface bullshit, just another way to express myself.

Last night I got incredibly shit-faced/wasted/plastered/druuunk and spent around an hour (at least) curled up in a friend's bathroom, just fucking puking my poor fucking guts out. I had only had seven shots and one full glass of wine. It was completely ridiculous. At one point, I think I was hunched over the toilet, puking with my undies down because I had just peed, and my babygirl walked in to check on me. I think that's what happened. I don't remember a lot. I know I puked outside and acted like it was no big deal. Later, I went outside with a plastic bowl in case I threw up again, just so I could have another cigarette. God, I haven't been that bad in forever. There was abso-fucking-lutely no way I was driving home, so I had to spend the night, and today my mother freaked out at me because I hadn't even called.

Bright side? Ritalin, bitches! Getting at least a D average! Taking the rest of my meds! Cutting throats and shooting dope!



GAAAAHHHHHH. sorry, crazy, my bad.

love me, love me.
say you do.
let me fly away
with you.

we are creatures
of the wind.

wild is the wind.

give me more
than
one caress
to
satisfy this
hungriness.

we are creatures
of the wind.

wild is the wind.

you touch me...
I hear the sound
of mandolins,
baby.

you kiss me...
with your kiss
my life
begins.

like a leaf
clings
to a tree,

baby, please
cling to me.

we are creatures
of the wind.

wild is the wind.

you touch me...
I hear the sound
of mandolins,

and

you kiss me...
with your kiss
my life
begins.


I heard that song covered by Cat Power for the first time a few years ago off an album my father had given me. When I heard it, I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. I was made of stone, and even with all the cracks running through me, I did not break. Back then, I couldn't afford it. Can I afford it now?

I am such a strong person. I can handle this... I can overcome!

Next Semester Schedule:
-Weight Training (at fucking eight in the morning)
-Nature of Mathematics D:
-Fiction Writing Workshop
-Queer Fiction
-WI Intro to Poetry
-Advanced Poetry Writing?

I might drop that 8 a.m. weight training class if I manage to get into Advanced Poetry Writing, which I most likely will. I really would like to get back into weight training, but I think expecting myself to wake up previous to eight would be a little unrealistic. Maybe. Or maybe I can get back into the habit of waking up ridiculously early and just taking bunches of naps when I'm not doing anything. Ehhh. We will see, because as of right now... I just need to get my shit together.

What I Need to Do for College:
-speak with professors concerning what I need to do to manage a D average (so I can at least come back next semester)
-make a list of work that needs to be done
-do the "ransom work," as my mother likes to call it
-if "ransom work" is completed, do whatever else I can
-FUCKING GO TO CLASS.

What I Need to Do Otherwise:
-take ALL medications (both day and night)
-eat and drink well regularly
-get some exercise
-quit smoking when I can
-set up appointments with a new therapist
-write write write and write some more.

Tonight, as I sat outside smoking a Newport I had bummed from a friend (or maybe he's just an acquaintance and I really do need to reevaluate my definition of a friend), I prayed to God. I prayed for my pain to be taken away, because if my pain disappears then surely I can quit hurting those who care about me as I try to numb the pain. I don't remember the time previous to that when I prayed. I feel awful about that--not praying as much as I feel I should. Instead, I'm the kind of person that just asks for help when I want it. Not even whenever I need it, just whenever I want it. I am thankful, but I don't know if I make that apparent like it should be. I have so much to be thankful for, I have my entire life to be thankful for. I feel so selfish that I can be torn apart so easily by something that in the long run will mean nothing to me. Will I even remember this event years from now? I don't imagine that even if I can or do, that it will signify anything other than how easily wounded I was. Yet, there I was just yesterday (was it really only yesterday?), researching which pills would take the pain away... forever. I hate that I have become this way, and perhaps that I have become this way again. I won't deny that I have wanted to end my life before, but I like to say that I am past that. Really, the only things keeping me from disappearing are my fear of Hell, my fear of hurting those who care about me, and my fear of pain. Thank God that I still feel fear.

Did anyone expect things to get this bad again?

I am so wide-eyed in fear of my own life right now. I feel like I have completely lost control of myself and everything around me. I'm sitting here at midnight, after having not slept in what is now around forty-eight hours (I don't feel like remembering), shaking uncontrollably and breathing in a way that I can't make myself believe is regular. I feel very unstable and very unsafe, and I think I currently pose as a danger to myself and those who care about me. This is not fine. I don't know how I thought this would fix things, because now I am actually worried that I may have dug my grave a little (if not a lot) deeper by not facing my problems head-on. I don't know why I thought delaying reality would make this any easier. If anything, now I have to deal with the original problem and the problems I caused by my reaction. I wanted to avoid caring for however long I could, but I didn't even manage to escape for a little while. The thoughts just raced a little faster and circled a little closer. The feelings were dimmed, but even then they were powerful, and I feared then just as I fear now how intense everything will end up being when I can't avoid it any longer. I am frantically trying to solve what is going wrong, but there is this constant droning in the back of my mind that reminds me that I am no longer in control of the situation. I gave up control when I made those commitments, the ones that now hold me to the goals of remaining friendly and loving. I gave up control when I offered my unconditional devotion, because even though I didn't name it, that's what it was. I will do everything in my power to make things right. I didn't think that expressing all of this hurt would have helped at the time, but now I can't even speak my mind with any purpose. No one is listening.

It's a very bad sign when you do something, hoping that if it doesn't make you happy (or perhaps empty?)... that it may kill you.

Tonight is (was?) a very, very bad night. I feel like a terrible, weak person.

I am not beautiful enough. Not pretty, smart, funny, kind, etc... nothing. I am nothing. I do not mean enough, I lack substance, I am insubstantial.

This is what happens, baby. This... you end up here, time and time again. This is what happens when you allow yourself to feel.

Am I really this worthless?

I just paid with my self-respect and the trust of others for a few hours of calm . Way to go, dear.

This is pathetic. I am pathetic.

asdfgklkjhgfds...!

jan's house t-shirts. what what!


(in the butt)

p.s.
home
again.

The way you can make me feel is astounding. Throes of agony and ecstasy, moments of unadulterated joy and perhaps others of the adulterated variety.

How can your words do this to me? You can't do this to me... can you?

I want to make this promise to you: I will never hate you. I may very well tell you that, sooner or later. Preferably while I'm feeling something akin to this, whatever it is that I'm feeling. Maybe I will say that the next time I see you. It's strange that I'm afraid to say this, but I hope I see you soon. I really do.

I wrote you that note in health class, thinking that maybe I could work up the courage to read it to you--either face-to-face where I can watch your reaction, or over the phone where all you can feel is the realness in my voice. But, I'm afraid of what it might mean. I was honest, of course, because I'm doing so much better where being truthful is concerned. So, what if you're concerned that I'm getting in too far? If I'm being too emotional? If I'm finally going to say "I love you?" If that reaction on your face will either make or break the future? Because I will never hate you. I know that no matter what happens between us or even around us, you will remain a good friend to have. You are so many things, and I know I can turn to you. Yes, it would be better than nice to have a relationship with you, but I can't do anything to sway your hand in making this decision. If anything, I would want to get into your head, to understand what truly makes you happy so I could point you in the right direction. Because I don't want to be with you if being with me makes you unhappy. I want to see you happy, and if I get hurt, so be it. That is what I deserve and it will make me even stronger, because yes, I am a very strong human being. I am indescribable. These adjectives that people throw around me in an attempt to cover me in such a soothing blanket, in the end they mean nothing. If anything, I am just a good person. If I ever wish anything ill against anyone else, I know I would never see it through. Those thoughts mean nothing, because I am loving. That is the word that comes closest to describing me, because it is indescribable in itself. Loving. What does that mean to you? What does it mean to anyone? I feel safe, a glow of soft pastels echoing outwards from my chest, somewhere deep inside that I will never understand. I can see what you mean when you say that we are so similar. We are so caught up in loving everyone, it's hard to remember to love yourself, isn't it? I think that this is why we are in such a difficult situation together. You know that you need to be happy, to be a little selfish, but with so many feelings at stake otherwise, you are afraid to take that step, to make that choice for yourself. But, I want what will be best for you. If we are so similar, you should know that I will understand. I will know that it is best if you are with someone else, because we can be friends still. We will still be the same people, just without the label of being in a relationship. Being with you doesn't make me happy, but I let myself feel happy when I'm around you. Does that make sense? Because you can't make me feel anything. I am allowing myself to feel these emotions, and that is all I can do. I can be open, honest, giving... but that is the only help I can offer for the most part. I can still suggest that you do what is best for you, and if you can spare hurting others in the process, that's great... but, in the end, you are the one who matters to you. Other people can't make you happy. Being with someone can let you feel happier if you allow yourself to be. Just being... I guess that's what I want for you. To stop having to fret about something that in the end will not change things. Yes, there will be a difference, but I will still love you. People change, but I don't think this can change us.

You will still mean something to me. Don't worry about me. Worry about yourself. You can hurt me. After all, I've made myself vulnerable. I knew the risks, because I've taken them before, and of course I got my hopes up. Neither of us can change that now, but please just understand that I only want what's best for you, and being with me is not that, then so be it.

This is what is making me smile today. This is what is making me wear my heart on my sleeve: something someone I don't even know wrote, but it means many things to me. I have to remember to thank them for it.

This is a mantra for all the girls and boys who tried but found they never could, who dreamed but never touched the stars. The outcasts and misfits and broken hearted heros and witch babies. This is a mantra for those who said "cannot" but never meant it- who kept on dreaming and trying and being, past failures and mishaps and worlds gone wrong. We are the broken ones, the confused lilies growing away from the sun, we are not quite right and not all there. The world will try and convince us of our failures, give us reasons to cry. The world will scorn us- they will make us believe we have done something wrong. "You are not a poet, a dancer, an artist, a dreamer. You are a failure. Stop trying, quit."

And maybe they are right. We are not poets or dancers or artists or dreamers. We are so, so much more. We are creation and imagination in their human forms, we are the sunlight and dust motes streaming in through Saturday windows. We are the high notes and choruses and soaring voices- we are bass notes and guitar riffs and melodies and drum beats. We are slant rhyme rhythms and abbreviated sayings and we are lace and velvet and rose gardens. It is as if our souls were dipped in ink to scrawl lovely sentences across the page. It is as if we are created to be seen; lovely girl paintings covered in oils and pastel wax. We are not poets, no, we are poems. Love poems, epics, haikus. Every word and syllable carved into our DNA, you can hear this whisper of poetry when we smile and when our hearts beat. We are not dancers, we are the very dance. Can you see the pirouettes and shuffles and tangoes in our irises, Degas' girls ricocheting through our souls in little tutus? Can't you see that we are so much more? We may not be millionaires, with published books and houses full of fine art and craft workshops and ballet studios baring our name. We may not walk runways or design clothes. We may not see our photographs on the cover of Vogue. We may only find the fruit of our work in handmade journals, locked key diaries, websites and flyers, but if you saw us, if you really saw us, then you would know. We are the dreams, the dance, the art. We are the light and the shadow, the photograph pixel. We are not the poets, we are the poems.

If you cannot be the poet, be the poem. - David Carradine.

That, and this.

Please read them. I hope they will make you feel something, even if it's nothing like what I feel. Please, just feel.

Red Mike,

did I ever really know you? Better or even as well as the rest of us? We who are the early morning miscreants and late night vagabonds, traveling from one state of mind to the next... we will miss you. You, the safe words and kind looks that got me through quite a few nights. That feeling of having someone who has known you longer than you have been alive. When you told me that you saw through me, past the smile that so rarely reaches my eyes, I thought that you would always be there. The rough hug that left me smelling of your cologne even as the night faded to morning and so on. These are the things I will remember you for. The fact that you let me start a tab and knew that I would come back to pay you whatever I owed. Sometimes you said no, to just take it and forget about it. Because you were my friend. You told me you had been thinking about me--missing me. But, I couldn't stay in that purgatory that was all I had ever known as a real home, when it was just that. All I had ever known. I went to you, looking for something that would let me be numb to how fucked-up life could be, but what you gave me was different. Such an unconditional friendship, telling me that if I ever needed anything, just to swing by and you would do anything for me. No questions asked, no explanations needed, no apologies warranted. I don't think I have ever met someone so ruthlessly gracious, unconditionally careful. How often did we say we loved one another? And, somehow, we meant it. You told me that if things had been different, we might have been for each other. But, I was too young and you were too crazy. I like to think that we were both just too fucked-up. I'll admit it, you made mistakes. You weren't the most forthright of people when it came to proper business, but you loved. You loved us, and that was taken away from you. I don't want to think of you as how you were under all of that stress... taking care of so many families, so many children, even if they didn't belong to you by blood. I know you took me under your wing. I spent so many hours behind your counter, smoking your cigarettes and listening to your music. Now, what will happen? I feel awful, but not for myself. You gave me what you needed to. But what about the lives you were forced out of? How will they go on? I have to think that your presence will linger forever onwards. You were too great a person to disappear entirely. Everyone should take notice: bad shit happens to good people. You weren't perfect, I know. I will be one of the first to say that when everyone is throwing a pity party for you. You seriously screwed-up a good number of things for yourself. But, underneath all of that, I know you. You don't want me to dwell, to wallow in this despair. You were good, and I just wish that everyone else can carry on well enough without you. I can barely imagine what it will be like. No more swinging by at odd intervals when I visit, no more catching up on what has happened since I last saw you. No more calling my station wagon a ball-crusher, no more calling me Meow Meow, no more free cigarettes when I really need them, no more telling me to fix myself up so I'll get a nice guy or girl. You will be missed, I'm sure of it, but I know in my heart that you would want us to keep living the good life.

-Your Meow Meow

You're hurting, baby. Everyone can see it, and you wear your heart so proudly on your sleeve. You're feeling broken and alone, but don't worry too much about that, because it's not true. Your friends still love you. They will be there for you as long as you let them, and they can give you what you need right now. What you need to do right now is focus on yourself and be a little selfish. You have every right to feel the way you're feeling at this moment. Used, hurt, betrayed, manipulated... the list seems to go on forever, doesn't it? But it's not those feelings that you should be even giving a second thought to. Yes, tend to them, but let them go. You're worth more than just pain. You deserve to be happy just as much as anyone else, and if you honestly believe that you don't, you're wrong. You're wrong, sweetheart... you're a beautiful person, all around. Anyways, what can you do about it now? Just take some time to sort yourself out before you go trying to make other people happy. They're right: no one expects you to take care of anyone other than yourself.

He means a lot to you, it's true, but what does that even mean in itself? How did this happen? You were attracted to him the moment you saw him, maybe just because he's beautiful, too. Then came the flirting, the play-fights and innuendo. Those pieces of time where you looked into each others eyes, and you felt as if you were watching glaciers melting beneath the sun's good light. That tender playfulness, even that ruthlessness, has always been so appealing to you. He's your type down to the bone, and it's painfully obvious. Those first talks in his basement, in his living room... lighting the understanding between the two of you further. But, that first time his lips pressed against yours, you fell in headfirst. The embers roared to life, didn't they? That night, you felt the threads slowly slip around the both of you, pulling you in tightly. The physicality brought up so many things, of course, and that certainly complicated the situation. The nights he spent in your bed and you felt completely comfortable, nurtured, and stable. Of course, you hadn't been expecting any of these things to happen, so how could you possibly have known that this week would happen? You couldn't have, it would have been impossible to foresee. What you could have done was listen to your friends, to heed their words of warning and be far more cautious. It's just now that you've really started understanding the stark possibility of his dishonesty. But, the time has come and gone for those precautions. You made yourself vulnerable, and he took advantage of that, whether or not he meant to do so cruelly. You gave him a chance, but now is your time to claim your ground and stand it. He has no right to hurt you any further, and you owe it to yourself not to let him.

Fool me once?
Shame on you.

Fool me twice?
Shame on me.

No, really... Everything will be alright, sweet girl.

Don't mind how complicated things seem. Just take it slow, let it flow, let it go. They may not see what you see in him, but your intuition has never led you that far astray. Has it? Honestly, he can see himself with you. Is their any higher honor than that? To be held in such high esteem as to be a potential partner? He is worth the wait, and if he decides you two can't be together, than that's his decision. You can't force him to feel the way you feel. You're an intense person and you know what you want and you would like to get it as soon as you realize what it is, but that doesn't mean you can't wait for this. If he's being truthful, and your feelings are true, than it will turn out just fine. At the very least, you will share with him something that is very special--those moments, those touches, those feelings, those words. That openness cannot be replaced between the two of you. No one else was there, they don't know how it happened, how it even felt to be there with the both of you. That silence that you share is precious, and it's something that you've rarely found with another person. Only those closest to you have been there with you in that silence. It isn't like you're the only one to have seen a different side of him, but those moments are your own. They belong. You're a wonderful person, and he can see that, but he can only understand as much as you let him. You have to let him in. The risk is worth taking.

Don't get your hopes up, babygirl. This could go any direction possible, so don't start wishing now. Save your optimism for later, when you can't get hurt. It's best to just get it over with, so you don't have to worry. Don't freak out, it's not worth it. No one is worth hurting yourself. You probably won't hurt him, so why hurt yourself? He should be fine, so why can't you be just as well? He will care about you no matter what, and you will care about him just as much from now on and you do presently. You and he will be fine. You're very similar... don't you remember him saying that? Perhaps very different as well, but everything will work out. This doesn't have to be just good or bad--there is plenty of grey in a situation like this. Don't blow it up to be so much bigger than it already is. Honestly, this will not be the end of your world. You're an amazing girl, and everyone can see that. You're fun, beautiful, talented, smart... so many great things! Besides, you love everyone. Even if he doesn't care as much as you do, you're used to that by now. That's what happens, and you can handle it. You're a survivor, a very strong person, and you will be alright.

Everything will be alright.

What is this? I know I have feelings and that he may as well, so why am I making the situation even more difficult by making these unwise decisions? I should know better than to give in to compulsions. Apparently he likes me a lot, and I like him too. I'm afraid that I'm going to scare him away. I feel like my emotions, to quote the Dead Kennedys, make me a monster. After all, it's been no more than five days and I'm already so fucking invested. But in my defense, the attachment began the moment I met him. I knew I was attracted to him immediately, and then we just get along so fucking well. Still, there is no excuse for doing what I did tonight. It is definitely at least half my fault.

Just because I care doesn't mean I need to start writing sappy poetry. I'm going to resist that urge, at least.

I can hardly dare to breathe.

Barack Obama is
our next president,
and (less importantly?)
I've talked to the boys.

Thank all that is Good.

(thank God)

I feel that I am letting myself down. I know what needs to be said, but I don't want to say it. I feel week. I feel like I no longer deserve these feelings, because nothing has been done to warrant them.

So this is it. I need to get my studies together, work up the motivation to achieve what I need to, what I want to. Everything else should be secondary, except for my own health and well-being. I have so much work to do, and it needs to get done as soon as possible. I've never been very good at this final cram, but I can do it. I really can. I have to.

The guys and the drama are completely optional. I know that, and I've got to act like I know that. Stop obsessing, Mia!

I'm quitting smoking cigarettes and weed, drinking, and popping pills. I've already started quitting the pills and weed and alcohol, and smoking will come after the final stretch of exams, etc., when I can manage to go briefly comatose during winter break.

glurrrrrggggh.

SNAP OUT OF IT, MIA.

Life can be pretty intense, I will admit. I can handle this, I swear it.

Are these people love interests? Is that what this is? I don't want to trick myself into thinking I love them, or rather that I am in love with them, because I honestly love just about everyone. At the same time, I can't lie and say that I have no feelings and am nothing but a collection of hormones and physicality. I am somewhat mixed-up is what I guess I'm trying to say. One guy is very interested in me and I've told him that I'm interested in him, but to be truthful, I told him that I'm also interested in another guy. He doesn't seem hurt, but I know the first guy can be quite sensitive. He's just like that and it's part of the reason I love him--he's just so open with me, and we do share a lot of commonalities. We get along really well, but there's something missing as far as chemistry goes. The second guy is probably one of the sexiest people I've ever met, just with his aura, behavior, and looks. His personality is so attractive to me, and we get along pretty well when I'm not intentionally being a bitch. The problem with him is that he is still pretty whipped by his ex and is generally pretty flirty. We've been pretty intimate, which is kind of a problem considering how little I really talk to him, not to even begin to mention the fact that he's basically with my roommate. That could end up being slightly awkward. He just makes me feel so good, like when I'm tucked against his side and I just feel so safe and comfortable. He doesn't seem too disinterested in me either, so there is a slight possibility that things could work out, but I don't want to get my hopes up. I feel that anxiety like I am just entertainment, pleasure, a toy... but he wouldn't be so openly affectionate if he didn't actually care about me, right? He kisses me in front of my roommate and her other friend, and then sometimes he puts his arm around me we're walking next to each other. I'm just scared that things are moving too fast again. I feel like I never have control of my body when I'm attracted to someone. Actually, that's not true... it's just when they reciprocate. I've been in actual love with people before and I've been fine for the most part. But, when I know they are attracted to me as well and are comfortable being intimate with me, it's difficult. I just don't want to get hurt again, I want something to work out for me as far as intimate relationships go. I know I need a partner, and I think I've reached the point where I'm stable enough. I just need to stop being so fucking impulsive.

GAAAAH.
FUCK MY LIFE... kind of. Sometimes it's pretty nice.