SB08. I did nothing, I breathed in short breaths and sputter-stumbled dizzily with faces spinning on my skull like pearls in oysters. I took in enough to leave me wrecked like boats in choppy opaque seawater. I am consumed by stars and moons, left to my own wrenching by the guts of distrust, the impulsive taste of decisions. Tongue the tips and pits of suns and planets, forelocks and forearms are full of chalky blood, convulsing arteries left with the compulsions of treaties.

I have vicodin and xanax and tylenol, just enough to make me feel full again. I've not been b/p-ing technically, at least I don't consider it so. I've been saying 'cunt' far more than I probably should, but I'm not sure what to think technically. There are so many terms that I don't quite know the origin of.

I swear that this is all first block is good for. I still can't believe I've been actually trying to focus. This is more than I can stand. Moremoremoremoremore. I'm trying not to die right now. Poor babygirl didn't sleep well at all last night, she kept waking me up and grinding her teeth in her sleep. I felt so bad for her, and I guess I still do, otherwise I wouldn't be writing this. It's way too early for me to feel this hopeless in school. Fuck school, I can't believe I'm going to be a teacher. At least I sound finite, in that way that I do. This is making me want to crawl into a ball and die. I'm not quite sure what to do. Only a few more minutes.


Dammit, my school system is trying to cancel out being able to access blogger at school, which is a huge bitch in the system. I just want to be able to blog, fuck all.

I've shoplifted: a bracelet, two books, a ring, a dress. I might try for more, but I'm not sure how I'm going to explain all of this stuff.

I've gone to Jan's House almost every day of spring break. I keep getting called sweetheart. Moriah and I just do nothing but nibblenibblenibble. Which is better than--nevermind! What I'm trying to say is that I'm making the best of this rough situation. I feel absolutely terrible for my babygirl for the wrath that that bitch Tally chose to instill.

I am really struggling with my eating disorders right now.

No meat, smoking, purging, or cutting. More healthy foods, gum, coffee, hanging out with friends, and writing.

QDAY 2: staying strong.

I've been quite the thief in the past two days. I could live off of semidecent music.


Haha, how's your semidemihemiquaver?





You've got my black heart in your crooked hands.

I smoked my last cigarette yesterday. It's worth it if I can help Alex even a little, because I know she can do it if she wants to.

I've been pulling the scabs off of my forearm today, and it feels good even though it stings. I know I should just leave the scabs alone, but they're so dry and obnoxious. Plus, the new skin looks so babyish. I'm still amazed by how deep some of them are. I really went to town, no lie no lie. I was never that bad before, but that's how dedicated I feel to getting attention from my chosen people. Alex confronted me the night before about throwing up at school that day, and I think it made me realize just how much my negative habits affect the lives of others. I never want to hurt Alex, and if that means that what I need to do is get a better grasp on controlling myself, then I can do that. I don't want to hurt anyone. My baby-girls and -boys need me and I need them more than attention from all of the unobtainable bastards I'm attracted to. These affinities are nothing in comparison to the love I have for my friends. I am a brute force, and if I have to use that for the happiness of myself and others, than so be it.

Writing on the wall
says you will never know
just how much it took
to say goodbye to possibility
and greetings to our reality

I'm listening to Babylon Circus and Gogol Bordello, which you should join me in doing. They're the soundtrack of some piece of my mind. The Wanderer, as many of my ladyloves might put it.

I'm going to work my ass of for the benefit of my grades and my health. Yesterday, the last cigarette. Today, dietary adjustments. I asked my aunt not to buy me anymore dairy products, certainly no more meat. I'll get ridiculous amounts of protein as usual, but I'll also have to make sure that I get enough calcium and iron. This is the thrill I both love and hate, that feeling of control. I know I'm not eating meat either for or against animals, but because I don't believe I should. I don't think it's good for me. I'm still just so confused as to what I should or shouldn't do. Maybe I should stop my caffeine intake as well... I don't know, don'tdon'tdon't. It's killing me.

This would be a great time for someone to swoop in and rescue me.

Yesterday I: didn't shower.

I'm just sitting in 1st block, writing in this blog. I fucking love how easy it is to get away with things in this class. It's amazing as well as slightly disheartening.

Hahaha, Dr. Harris gave me "FREEDOM GUM," with which I will endure the pain of non-smoking. He also said "foist," which is amazing.

I keep getting such positive attention, I feel like I really can do this. Write/teach, teach/write. I had a very nice chat with Mrs. Holmes today, during which we discussed whether or not my negative behaviors are worth it, and we both agreed that it's not. I have too much to live for to throw my life away and risk the decay of indulgence. It's my decision, I can be whatever I want to be and do whatever I want to do, but do I need to? No, absolutely not. I want to be happy, not so hollow and empty. Being numb is comfortable, but not worth it. I want to be able to nurture myself and others, not suck the life out of everyone including myself. I even told Mrs. Holmes about the crush I have on her, which is craziness, but realistic and expected considering my pattern of seeking out nurturing figures in my life who will support me and pay attention to me when I feel too vulnerable to sit with myself. I really need to begin to sort through my emotions. I'm afraid of facing reality, of locking myself in with commitment. I'm just like every other teenager with my fears, but I'm like a select few with the vast assortment of avoidance that I employ. I wonder if I should just start confessing to all of my issues with the people that I seek out. I feel like such a predator in the way that I search for people who will satisfy my needs. It almost sounds dirty, doesn't it? Reasonable, but dirty. I am not a monster, but I am a beast.

I'm going to stop smoking, or at least really cut back. I feel like I owe it to Alex and Dr. Harris since I promised them, which I shouldn't have done unless I was prepared to quit, and I feel like I am. Hopefully I won't gain weight, which would blow. I don't need to lose that much more weight, though. I'm absolutely, positively not fat. I'm not even chubby. I'm just not skinny. I don't know what I am, probably just slim and curvy. I want to gain more muscle back, I miss being such a solid beast. I don't want to go back to being muscle and bone, but there's absolutely nothing wrong with more muscle mass. I'm just not satisfied with being feminine, which is ridiculous and something I need to work on. I want to be strongstrongstrong, fierce and capable. I don't need to run again, because I just abuse that, but I can go back to at least thirty minutes on the elliptical and at least thirty minutes of weight training. I don't know what I'm planning on or working towards, but I think it might be just me seeking satisfaction in myself. I really can't believe I still fit into Kelsey's holey pants. That's either a good or a bad thing, and I can't really decide. Maybe I can be thin and still be healthy. Kelly said that with my body type I might be able to pull it off. Arghhh, I don't know what I want, but I know what I should want. SHOULD is such a disgusting word.

I've actually been writing at every opportunity today. I spent like thirty minutes writing in my journal in the media center while I was avoiding class, then talked to Dr. Harris for like five or ten minutes, then came to class and started writing this. How amazing of me. I just feel so inspired! It's awesome.

I am a shallow thrill crawling up your spine
the white hot pain ripping through your throat
the amazement flowing through your veins
and excitement pooled in the small of yor back



why do I feel this way?

I wrote this in that last 15 minutes of speech and debate:

I am choking on this fresh air
freely flowing into my lungs
out again into the wasteland
I miss the cozy chains of solitude
when I was contented to waste away

now I am failing in my happiness
hideously well and able-bodied
full of fullness and never empty

spun sugar clouds and moth-dust
shoved down my convulsing throat
while I drown in my own freedom

Mrs. Patty told me that I have no right to whine because I have the easiest schedule ever. I was whining about something completely different, but she's right, I have absolutely no right to whine. I am just a greedy lazy disgusting ugly gluttonous selfish ungrateful bratty little bitch. I am none of those horrible things that I just wrote. Even if I were, I'm not like that all the time. I'm a genuinely good person and I have the conscience of a five-yearold, which is kind of funny and kind of tragic. I don't know what to do with myself, honestly.

I need to stop seeking attention by negative means and start letting people show me genuine affection. This cutting and throwing up has gotten out of control. Getting attention positively doesn't quite feel the same, but I need to have a talk with a few people to clear up what I do and don't need. For example, I do need attention but I do not need to be babied. I can smell faking from over a polluted ocean. Still, it's going to be hard coming clean, but I've done it before and I can do it again. I'm freaking out, but I can do it. I should really take Kelly's advice more often. I mean, my mother pays her to give me advice and generally help me out, but I barely try to overcome the challenges she lays to face me. What's the point of a therapist if you don't listen to them in return? I might as well talk to a brick wall--which would be hilarious and I would pay to see myself have brickwalltherapy sessions every week. Speaking of therapy, tomorrow! AND, I'm going to drink before 3rd block again, because I'm a fucking idiot. Woooo being a moron for attention-getting purposes. For real. Goodness, I am far too honest in this blog.

Alex and I went to visit Kelsey again today and just sat on her back porch and smoked until I had to eat my apple. I miss my bbygrl a lot. I miss "-zorzz" and I miss Harry Potter movie marathons. I miss wandering downtown and daydreaming about vagabonding. I miss playing madcrazy videogames together and me getting drunk, etc. I miss a lot of things that we don't do anymore, but we need to. BabyGirl, if you're reading this, get over SUPERMONO so we can talk about how crazy amazing life can be and hang out at Jan's House. If I even thought you could afford the absences, I would say let's skip class and chill and drink coffee, but my beloved Brady already spared your balls once and I doubt she would do it again. I lovezorzz you anyways.

I talked to basically all of my teachers today about whether or not they thought I could make it as an English Teacher. Note the badass use of caps despite my faulty sense of propriety. I want to teach so bad right now, maybe after I go for my degree in creative writing. I want to be like all of my favorite teachers mixed together. I want to inspire and save lives, I want to lecture and bitch because I care, I want to help those who need it, I want to nurture those who let me, I want to be no-nonsense and still be able to laugh about life, I want to have heartfelt discussions about how life is really going or what's happening in other classes, and more than anything I just want to be a hero to those who need one. I've been rescued so many times by teachers who cared enough to just listen or hug, encourage or scold, really agree or disagree. People who generally took an interest in my well-being and treated me like an adopted daughter. I think writing and teaching could very well be my main passions in life.

Sidenote: I want to be vegan again, but I get the feeling that it would just turn out very badbadbad.

Powdery wings gathered furiously in my pit
where they flutter anxiously and full of nerve-endings
scraped raw and dissident and plump with misgivings
choking on the fine dust that is venomous
pinpointed on a dirty-veined map and swallowed whole

There are so many things that I wish would change for you. I agree that your life has been filled with too much shit, and because of that, wouldn't you rather wait? This is me, on my hands and my knees, pleading with you to keep trying until something goes right. You're beautiful, a fucking genius, and kinder than most. You're one of the few friends who I would fight for. I would fight for you to live happily just one day, so you could know what it feels like.

On that depressed note, I'm done with my senior project. Now I'm just freaking out in anticipation of my grade. Arghhh, will it never be finished?

I think I've lost weight. I feel so torn. Excitement and despair, a couple and a pair.

Playing dress-up may very well be what gets me by in life, because I don't give a damn about my education.