Tumblr?

I'm thinking about starting one. Why?
I don't know.

It took me a ridiculous amount of time to even choose a theme. My eyes welled up at the frustration of not even being able to make the smallest of decisions. One that doesn't even matter.
Which started negative self-talk of which I am still not above.
How can one so pathetic still be existing?

All I seem to know how to do is appreciate beauty.

How Much Monday Beer?

A Case of the Mondays

I don't have much to say today, except that
1) I like my boss,
2) I secretly painted my nails at work,
3) I have this urge for a few months now to write down my life. Uh, comprehensibly.
4) Pictures:

 Button-mashing time.

 Too late.

 I miss painting.

I love cats.

Okay.

Digital Ash In A Digital Urn

They invented LOVE all right
But they still can't make the right
Plastic or metal or whatever to hold it all in
So it just keep leaking (insert water sounds)
All over everything (insert everything)
Dripping and splashing/making music

Gives me an ear infection

Now my equilibrium's fucked
So I'm holding onto the railing all the way down
And I'm asking for your shoulder on the way up
If you help me when I'm frightened I'll help you when you're drunk
Promise you know nothing and you're someone I can trust
Neverminding hot DEATH on our heels

But never forgetting it either.

September 17, 2010

"Happiness is good health and a bad memory." ~ Ingrid Bergman

Sawdust

"It was like sawdust, the unhappiness: it infiltrated everything, everything was a problem, everything made her cry - school, homework, boyfriends, the future, the lack of future, the uncertainty of future, fear of future, fear in general - but it was so hard to say exactly what the problem was in the first place."
~ Melanie Thernstrom
The Dead Girl


That's the thing I want to make clear about depression: It's got nothing at all to do with life. In the course of life, there is sadness and pain and sorrow, all of which, in their right time and season, are normal - unpleasant, but normal. Depression is in an altogether different zone because it involves a complete absence: absence of affect, absence of feeling, absence of response, absence of interest. The pain you feel in the course of a major clinical depression is an attempt on nature's part (nature, after all, abhors a vacuum) to fill up the empty space. But for all intents and purposes, the deeply depressed are just the walking, waking dead.
I had invented the monster and now it was overtaking me. This was what I'd come to. This is what I'd be for the rest of my life."
On top of feeling sad, I also feel guilty.
The concept of white, middle-class, educated despair just never occurred to me, and listening to rock and roll all day was probably no way to discover it.
Nothing about my life seemed worthy of art or literature or even of just plain life. It seemed too stupid, too girlish, too middle-class.

~ Elizabeth Wurtzel
Prozac Nation

The Traveller's Ode

Sir Richard Burton

One of the gladdest moments in human life, methinks, is the departure upon distant journey into unknown lands.
Shaking off with one mighty effort the fetters of habit, the leaden weight of routine, the cloak of many cares, one feels once more happy.

LOLs and CAPTCHart

Addicted to Pretty

Pretty songs:
"Hill" by Hungry Lucy
"monophobia" by Moi Dix Mois

Pretty dresses:

Pretty PARASOLS:

A whole fucking page of pretty blouses.

Pretty bracelet:

J2, iii. (2007)

 For the beginning of this journal, see the previous two entries. (Years 2005 & 2006.)

Thursday, January 4, 2007~12:04 AM~ ~in the upstairs bathroom ~ Hello, Dr. ____.  My name is Julia, yes. I’m 16, I live with my mom, 2 younger brothers, and I go an all girls school. My parents are divorced: my mom is getting married tomorrow, yes he’s a good guy, and my Dad’s been married for about a year now and I love his wife. They got divorced at the end of 7th grade. Yeah, I’m a sophomore now. No on has died... recently. I’m here because I think something is... well... wrong or different about me. I looked + read around... I knew I wasn’t bipolar, I don’t think I have ADD or ADHD. I just wanted to see if I was quote quote “normal”. Which, when I found what I was looking for, my normal accounted for about 2% of the population. The population of what, I never read. The world? The U.S.? First-world countries? Anways, what I’m talking about is Borderline Personality Disorder. When I first read about it on some medical website, my thoughts were “oh my gosh, this is me.” Not too long after that though, I of course had my doubts. “I’m just trying to be different,” I told myself. “I’m just trying to prove to myself that I am not “normal,” and that I am special. I’m just a self-pitying teenager trying to get attention.” Deep down, I guess that’s what I was looking for. But I never go that deep. If I wanted attention, I would have told someone. I would have acted out. But I never did. Because I thought I was just trying to convince myself that there was something wrong with me. But I was still, as always, curious. I’d read a little here, a little there, ya know. Most of the time using the same websites, kind of a refresher of the memory, but also to rekindle that possibility, that it might be true. I’m smart enough to know not to completely trust things I read on the internet. Even if they’re medical websites. And you may know, there’s not a lot out there if your searching about stuff about it. So one day... who am I kidding, it was yesterday... I went to Borders with my dad, went to the psychology section, and sat down right there on the floor reading for an hour the only book I could find on it. I almost bought it too, but decided against it as to not get my father suspicious. Oh, he knows I love psychology. In fact the reason I wanted to go to the bookstore was because the week before my boyfriend’s brother, who is majoring in psychology, took my boyfriend, a friend of ours, and I to the bookstore. Nick, the older brother, was looking in the psychology section. I of course was curious, but didn’t want to butt in. When he later moved to the philosophy section (I think he’s minoring in that?) I moved in. I looked, but I didn’t date pull anything out, for Dave and Mick were right there with me.. Oh yes, Dave, he’s my boyfriend. We’ve been “going out” for almost two years. He’s an eighth grader at the school I went to. He’s in one of my brother’s grade, so I’ve known him for a pretty long time. He’s pretty much my best friend. And no, he is not immature, and yes, I love him. We’re not perfect, but we care about each other and are always forgiving in the end. Now, back to the bookstore... so I read a good portion of that book. I pretty much skipped over the part that had to do with the brain. Anyways, I am here because I think I have it. I qualified for at least 5 of the 9 symptoms. Maybe 6. All I remember is at least 5 were needed. But not all. I’ll talk about those next time. Thank you so much for your time, Doctor. It feels good to talk to someone.”

Thursday, January 4, 2007~9:58 PM~in my room~ “Demolition Lovers” Hello Doctor, nice to see you again. Yup, this is my iPod. My dad gave me the money to buy it on eBay for Xmas. Music is very important to me. Sometimes I think its more important than it should be. Dad told awhile ago that I hide behind my music, that I run away to it. When he first told me that, it took me by surprise, but when I thought about it, I knew it was true. I don’t do drugs, I do music. I guess it does the same thing for me. Well I know this is in a different direction, but... my cousin, Kayla. She’s one year younger than me. I think she has ADD + is bipolar or something, I’m not really sure. All I know is that I’m worried about her. Usually she toughs it + always gets through hard times, but tonight my mom took me into her room + told me Kayla’s mom, my aunt Pam, had called my mom, and apparently Kayla is about as down as it gets. As in suicide. I know Kayla has attempted suicide before; she has told me. But she’s always had it hard. Parents, boyfriends, (girlfriends), friends, friends with benefits. She + I are really close like I said, but there are some things she doesn’t tell me. Especially details regarding relationships. Hell, I think she’s probably the one who is Borderline. Maybe I just like to pretend that I have problems. Jealous that everyone else gets all the attention. I’m just the seemingly stable best friend that everyone relies. I can’t be everyone’s best friend. I’m not even allowed to have one. The order of my myspace top 8 is not how I would like it to be... Must... keep... people... happy. I have to be there for all of them. Their problems are my problems. I have to help. Most of all, I have to be there for them. Not neccessarily help. For that in its own way is helping. If Borderline affects 2% of the population; 33 out of 100 women (those two stats don’t even add up?), then why haven’t I heard more about it? Why do I feel so alone, like there’s no one else like me, that feels what I feel, that I can relate to? Maybe I’m just a stupid weird teenager. Probably. Most likely. See, this is how it is. One day, I’m convinced, the next I’m doubtful. I wish I had more to read about. It would make me feel better. Anyways. I think I’m the only one that can be there for Kayla, so I’ll be there. To the outside, problem-free Julia, here to help those in need. That’s what I’m here for. Nope, I don’t have any problems of my own. I just take in everyone else’s, + those become mine. And the symptoms of being Borderline that I all are... well I’m just a teenage girl, what do I know. I’m never convinced. I wish you’d ask more questions, Doc. I like answering questions about myself. Like surveys + stuff. Well there I go again, being selfish. Kayla’s right. She calls me self-centered. I used to try + not be, although at first when she told me it took me by surprise, because I did not think I was so. But I think she was right. I can’t diagnose myself, Doc. I don’t know nearly enough about psych as you do. I don’t want to take medication. Not now. I like the way I am most of the time. If my mom knew... some of the stuff I did... what I’ve done, or what I do, she’d probably send me to someone like you. Wouldn’t that be funny if she sent me to you!? I think that’d be hilarious. We’d have to keep it a secret though. I guess then I wouldn’t have to pay you anymore. But that probably won’t happen. Not on purpose, anyways. If on accident, (which I guess is the only way), things could get bad. I can’t let Dave know. The only thing he could use as a suspicion is that I’m really sensitive and get upset easily. I think that’s all he knows. Sometimes I’m scared that Kassie will tell him. She’s the only one that knows. Ironic, isn’t it. Even Kayla doesn’t know.
...I don’t want to scare him away. For him to think I’m just an emo wannabe looking for attention + stooping down to that level. I know he’d be disappointed in me. That one night at the bookstore with him + Nick + Mick, in the psychology section, he pointed to a book about it and said “maybe we should get that for Kassie, as a joke of course with a laugh. But I just stood there, not smiling, studying those book titles as if it weren’t funny. Because it wasn’t. Part of the subtitle of the book was “understanding why / behind why” or whatever, and I almost told him, “no, maybe you should get it for yourself.” But I didn’t. If he noticed me acting strange, he didn’t say anything. Just went off with Mick. Speaking of Mick... I wonder if he told Dave his little secret.
...Back then, it seems things were more innocent. We watched some movies. The Hangman’s Curse, Constantine, + Queen of the Damned. All of those, good movies by the way, in some way or another. Although... there’s this one scene in Constantine that I can’t stand. Glass. Well Doc, it’s getting late. I h ope you have a good evening. Talk to you later, + thank you so much for listening, that’s all I need right now. Bye.

Monday, March 26, 2007~in my room~currently listening to Bright Eyes. Although I have just finished my latest favorite playlist consisting of Janet Jackson’s “Rhythm Nation,” Tilly & the Wall’s “Sing Songs Along” + “You & I Misbehaving” & last but not least, t.A.T.u’s “All the Things She Said” & also the Russian Techno Mix of that song. That pretty much sums up the past week. In a very small nutshell.
I have a crush, it’s a she, & she’s a senior. Oh, and she’s straight. Bright Eyes reminds me of Anna LaHood. Her sister is friends with her. Kayla is the only one I actually told, because she knows about the Sarah Lang thing last year. Marlowe guessed (that was yesterday) & Dana guessed (today) & both of them are in Her acting class, (advanced), 8th period. Damn, I’m with Coyle. Her locker is right across from the art room. I heard her 5th period while I was doing workstudy. I am no Alice Blake. (There’s Anna again!) It was all meant to stay inside. But they guessed. I know I can trust Dana. But they both thought I should talk to her. I’ve never had a one-on-one conversation with her. She left early from Amy’s cast party on Friday night. But Saturday night was awesome. Outside in the driveway of Mary Guinan, was Kayla, Mick, Dan, DJ, Julia LaHood, Chelsey, Anna, Carolyn, and her. I think those are all. Carolyn was quiet, & a latecomer. Hell, I was quiet too. Dan & Chelsey were pretty wasted. I supplied gum for Chelsey though, she smelled of smoke. I just made a Facebook. She was pretty quiet too. She had her arms crossed a lot. With the fading tattoos. Black nailpolish on the fingernails, pink on the toenails. Orange flip flops. Orange Sun Dawgs shirt. Shit, is that a giveaway? Kayla spent the night Friday. She has a crush on Dan. Mick is depressed a lot. I like it better when he smiles. She likes Bright Eyes. & Tilly + the Wall too. And Cake. I don’t remember what else. Oh, the Beatles. She has a wonderful smile. Absolutely. Marlowe used to have a crush on her (+ Sarah Lang too) and Dana thinks she’s hot. Dana also thinks she’s a great actress. No need to tell me twice. I can see that for myself. I have barely eaten the past two days. But I’m not craving any food. I’ve been so... distracted. Or as Dana said, “I’ve got it bad.” You could say that again. God. This is just so sick & wrong & childish & just absolutely SICK & WRONG & CHILDISH. The Devil’s in the Details... yeah, thanks Conor. Dave broke up with me on the Ides of March (15...duh) Julius Caesar. Shakespearean tragedy. Get with it. 2 years & 3 days of Dave. So now it’s over. I’ve been so busy thinking about everything else, the play, her, etc... more her... she was in the play... the play’s over... I bawled at the last showtime. Makeup everywhere. She was right there. She can’t know. I love the pictures on her myspace. I don’t let myself save them. Or send a friend request.
Tomorrow is strike. She will most likely be there. Unless she has to work. I know Dan won’t be there tomorrow. He works at La Casa’s. Tomorrow. Cafeteria between 3rd & 4th. 6th in Newville’s. After school, in Dashner’s room. I’m infatuated, I’m paranoid, I’m all wrong. More later? No more tequila. Haha. Long story. 40%. Tomorrow. We’ll see how tomorrow goes. It’ll be okay. Fuck. Please let it be okay.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007~in my room~Strike was today. “Lady colours” as she is now known was there. Well, I found out some things today. One may recall back to Freshman year when I had this crush on Marlowe, right. Well it turns out, she had a crush on me too, & pretty much everyone knew about it cept me. God. I’ve failed so soon. My apologies, I’m trying to not think about her 24/7. It’s harder than... goddess. I’ve got it bad. I can’t see in front of me anymore. Kayla thinks I’ll get over it. I’ll have to. If I don’t, at least she’ll be gone. Fuck, she’ll be gone. She can’t know. No one else can. It’s bad enough with 3 people. Kayla, Marlowe, & Dana. It all makes me so sick. I have to stop looking at her. Just stop. I mean in real life. Fuck. What did I do to deserve this. I just need to keep my cool. Oh man. I just remembered something. I am pretty sure she saw Marlowe & myself today, w/Marlowe’s arm around me, & then she gave me a kiss on the cheek. I’m pretty sure she saw it. Wouldn’t that be so ironic if... she & Marlowe are in acting, & like she brings it up? or asks who I am or something? Not that that would ever happen. Poor Marlowe... and if she asked her if we were going out or something... “No, because she likes you more than she does me.” It’s so dramatic. Just think, “No, because of you.” Her: “What the fuck?” Fuck, I don’t want to go to school tomorrow. God, Marlowe, none of this is your fault. With your touch, my body says Dave, & my mind says her No on else can know. I suppose with this Marlowe thing, the word will get around about the bi thing. Although my space still says “Not sure” & my facebook doesn’t say anything. I gave in before I got off the computer. I went to her myspace. I have the URL memorized. She has to many great pictures. I’m not even kidding. Fuck.

Wednesday, April 4?~12:09 AM~in my room~ “Chicago” by Sufjan Stevens~ Got ca cell phone today. Verizon. It’s a Samsung. 1400 mins a month, split with Mom & Brad. Free nights after 9 & free weekends. 238-6197. Took forever to get it. But turns out its free. And I got a car charger too. And I walked next door to Border’s & combined 3 gift cards to get a new journal. Moleskin, 14.95. Expensive for a small black journal, huh? I was going to buy Up the Down Staircase, but they didn’t have any in, so I tried ordering it, but it was unavailable to order too. Dumb. I’ll maybe borrow it from Angela @ school. Damn I’m on spring break. Just gotta wait like a week. Oh well. “The Dress Looks Nice On You.” More Sufjan Stevens. I guess this journal is done with. Took long enough, huh.

J2, ii. (2006)

For the beginning of this journal, the year 2005, start with the previous post.

Thursday January 19, 2006~9:27 I’ve come to the conclusion that I can’t do anything right. I am too critical of people. Half the time, I can only see the good side of people, I act as if everyone in the world is good-natured, + the other half of the time it seems as if I hate everyone because no one is good enough + everyone pisses me off and I pinpoint every single flaw to their disadvantage. I’m stupid. So now I guess on the verge of losing a friend, who is no doubt pissed, angry, hurt, self-pitying--see look I’m already doing it. Dunno how I’m going to do psychology if I can’t control the way my own mind thinks. I don’t like my mind. I don’t like my aura. I don’t like my horoscope. I don’t like my zodiac. I don’t like me ineffable self.

Haha it sucks when you cry + you don’t have sob-proof mascara on + you have black tears running down your face + it stings so you rub your eyes but then it gets all over your eyes too + your fingers + you look like a total mess + you look in the mirror + stand in awe of what you have created long enough to make the tears stop.

The middle of the flower with all of its little petals, like me not being able to keep friends, not being able to to speak up for myself, being freakin’ ineffable, having terrible faith in everything + nothing, not being able to believe in anything, even myself, not even really wanting new friends, not taking good care of myself, only thinking of you + nobody else, being such a cry baby, picking out flaws, having crappy handwriting, being a bad friend, being a bad daughter, being a bad sister, always doubting myself + others, even when I hold my standards up so high.

And all I do is cry, it’s what I do best. Everything else, I’m just a fake, a slacker. But you can count on me to cry. I cry for you, I cry for me, I cry for the world. But if you think about it I’m only being selfish.

I hate being 15. You can’t do anything, yet you are held up to do so much. Get perfect grades. Have the best friends. Do all housework. Be amiable, agreeable, beautiful, understanding, supportive, humble, loving, PERFECT. I can’t be perfect. Because I can’t do everything right. I can’t even love right. Hell, I doubt I even cry right. The perspective’s off. Lemon meraing pie. Five cent licorice. Strawberries in the fields. It doesn’t make any sense. None of the world at all. Ahem why are we here? There’s no point. It’s all selfish. Love is selfish. I’m being selfish. Is God being selfish?

Saturday, May 20, 2006~10:17~ Reasons why Kassie is better for you than me:

- You’ll go to the same high school - She can burn incense - She doesn’t have a brother in your class - She doesn’t have siblings - She has more than one car - She will live closer than me - You can both complain about your body weight together - Her mom is cool - She has a cell phone - She has her own computer - She has cable - You like going to her house - She has a big comfy couch - Her parental units don’t interfere - She has money - Her non-existent glasses don’t get in the way - She can stay out late - She has smoother legs than I - She doesn’t read a lot either - She doesn’t have an internet time limit - She can access all websites - She’s funny - You won’t hear “sorry” every 2 minutes - Not much competition - You can go see her theatre productions - You can laugh about teachers - You can wave in the halls - You can sit together at lunch - You could walk to each other’s houses - You could get married, buy a dog, have sex and have kids. Thefuckingend.

Saturday, July 8 (?), 2006 Me + Sean just got done playing with a feature called Photo Booth on his new Apple laptop. And Aunt Pam is programming her new top of the line phone. And Kayla is eager to have me try her new 400$ wakeboard, named Spork. There’s a fly on Uncle Mark’s back. I read a book last night of Kayla’s called Crosses. It made me incredibly uncomfortable in a strange way...the book is just disturbing in a way I’ve don’t think I’ve experienced by reading a book.

We were driving today + stopped at a light, + I saw the neck of a broken glass beer bottle on the ground, + it reminded me of a scene in that book, + I had to clutch my wrists for awhile, it made me feel ill. It’s like my mind shivers. Like I physically squirm. Makes me really rally rally want to put on arm warmers. More like arm protectors. I need my gloves. I hate having my wrists bare. Too vulnerable.

Friday, July 15 (?), 2006, 11:09, in the living room in our cabin, Lake of the Ozarks, Missouri. We went for another late night ride. Cept this time something hit something + messed up the boat... the speedometer or something. Kayla is making eggs right now I think. I guess she eats a lot. I really miss Dave. A lot. From now on, when I refer to Kayla + I’s fantasy for after high school (the one that starts with a fatal car crash) it shall be known as The Plan. Note: remember “Shpausz Moungkay” Sean Connery, I guess. It should go in both me + Kayla’s profiles. People will be like what huh? Aunt Pam came up to our cabin today when everyone was up here (cept Billie, she’s sick) and she’s dancing and like Guys I have news! + she was messing with her phone + then says jokingly We’re having a baby! yeah haha -.- She plays a message on her phone on speakerphone + it starts like “This is Holly McCoy from Mercy, substituting for Trisha Steele who’s on maternity leave” or something like that blah blah blah, + says something along the lines of there’s a spot that came open + so now KAYLA’S COMING TO MERCY! + me + her started jumping up + down + hugging + dancing + stuff. We were so happy I kind of wonder if Mark + Pam are happy about it? Well so now I’m all thinking about it + all the cool stuff that I think’s gonna be happening. (Eric + Kayla are fighting right now + it’s annoying) Kayla really wants to do tech I think, but she also wants to play basketball so problems will inevitably arise with that. Since Erin is going to go to Central, + Angel can no longer sit with us, we can replace them with Susan + Kayla. Although I suppose that is rather selfish of me, just kind of sticking them in + not thinking about the other people at the table. Plus what will happen when they make friends in their own grade? I suppose people can switch tables. Although I shall miss Marlowe dearly. I very much long for Dave. I’m pretty glad we are leaving tomorrow morning. But our van’s AC broke I think, so I have to ride with Kayla again. That car hurts my butt. I hate that car. It’s such a gas hog. And too big.

Saturday, July 22, 2006~10:42~in my room~Yesterday, Friday, I went to Kassie’s, + me, her, + Marshall walked around the cemetary for like 2 hours then went to Crane. Then I went to the pool + met up with Dave, Susan, Josh, Pat, + Matt. Dave grew! Omg he’s like barely shorter than me now. I could tell he was happy about that. Sooo... I’m wondering when that Runescape membership runs out. Yeah... Then today I had Susan over for awhile + then we had the Goetzinger’s + Jeff + Lisa over for dinner. Then Jeff, Em + I went to Hollywood + rented the movie Serenity + watched it at her house. It was made by Joss Whedon so that’s pretty cool.

Friday, July 28, 2006, 12:11 A.M.~in my room~Reading: The Full Spectrum. A new generation of writing about gay, lesbain, bisexual, transgender, questioning, and other identities. Okay + I think Mom thinks I’m lesbian or something? Okay + I am seriously over halfway done with this book + still haven’t read one thing about being asexual. Not one thing. An hour ago, I was getting off the internet... I was saying bye to Teh Lewl... “sweet dreams julia” me: “you too” Jeff: “only if ur in em :)” Weird, huh? Now what is that supposed to mean? Oh, I know, I’m being overly sensitive + paranoid again. I put up my “Sweet Dreams” (Marilyn Manson) away message. No talkie to Dave today. :( I went to the mall w/Susan, Kass, + Kayla. I got a cool pair of arm warmers, or as Eric calls them, arm shoes, at Torrid. Almost got a corset at Hot Topic. Almost. I drove for like a total of an hour + a half. Highway, dude. Random note: I think Dave is either bi, a liar, or both. Or maybe that’s that overly S+P again, as I shall now call it...

Some things in that book made me think. One of them having to do with dreams. I recall reading something awhile ago that one of Sigmund Freud’s theories was that dreams reveal hidden + often unconscious desires. I hope that is not true, for my unconscious would scare me incredibly so. I have had... strange dreams before, involved both mal + female (though most of the time female...+ most of the time Sarah Lang) Now STOP. None of these dreams had anything to do with SEX, thank you very much. Don’t get your underwear in a wad. The mind is quite a strange thing... strange dreams involving Mariah, Erin, + Sarah. Which is stupid, because...Mariah? Eew! Never. And Erin is just...Erin. There’s this bug stuck in the tub + I feel really sorry of it because it can’t get out. How did it get in there anyways? I left some water for it a few days ago... I think I’m going to name it Alex. That was it can’t be offended if it’s a boy, a girl, F2M, M2F, etc. And it’s middle name is going to be Sam. I remember Dave telling Rey he liked that name, I think... More water for Alex Sam. <3

Wednesday, August 16, 2006, ~9:27~ I dunno what to listen to. Tomorrow school starts. I think Dave is avoiding me. I dunno what to think. Dyed hair more black tonight. Need music. Now. Oh lookie {insert bloody fingerprint here} Haha dot dot. Goodnight.

Agressive Pulp / J2, i. (2005)

• “Drinking is an emotional thing. It joggles you out of the standardism of everyday life, out of everything being the same. It yanks you out of your body and your mind and throws you against the wall. I have the feeling that drinking is a form of suicide where you’re allowed to return to life and begin all over the next day. It’s like killing yourself, and then you’re reborn. I guess I’ve lived about ten or fifteen thousand lives now.” CHARLES BUKOWSKI [1920-94]

• “An intelligent man is sometimes forced to be drunk to spend time with his fools.” ERNEST HEMINGWAY [1899-1961]

• “I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they’ve always worked for me.” HUNTER S. THOMPSON [1937-2005]

• “I have absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which I sometimes so madly indulge. It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that I have periled life and reputation and reason. It has been the desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of some strange impending doom.” EDGAR ALLAN POE [1809-49]

• “After a month’s sobriety my faculties became unbearably acute and I found myself unhealthily clairvoyant, having insights into places I’d as soon not journey to. Unlike some men, I had never drunk for boldness or charm or wit; I had used alcohol for precisely what it was, a depressant to check the mental exhilaration produced by extended sobriety.” FREDERICK EXLEY [1929-92]

Creepy radio transmissions... OMGZ UFOZ! No seriously, read this.
 Valentich Disappearance

I was just told not 15 minutes ago that I will be receiving MY OWN office/cubicle. I'm not sure what to call it. It has a room number... Anyway, I'm pretty excited to be secluded and isolated, not gonna lie. Won't have to deal with creepy guys, as much. At least, I hope.

I think my prediction of another Mana-sama phase was premature, as it seems I'm still obsessed with Emilie Autumn on some level or another.
But for another flashback, this time PRE-high school, I've logged into GaiaOnline for the first time in... I actually don't know how long.
Speaking of pre-high school flashbacks... get ready for some old journal entries. And by journal I don't mean blogging, I mean hand-written in a little black book with the word "Journal" printed on the front, in silver. I wasn't very subtle back then.
I'm not going to type out every single entry, obviously. Just a handful, of note. The ones I find more interesting than others. Typed out exactly how I read them, how I wrote them. Complete with little "+'s" instead of "and's".

Thursday, August 18, 2005 10:23~in my room~First real day of school. Met another cool girl, her name is Clara. Had to wear a beanie all day. Didn’t get to get online because we went to Jazz on the green. It seems as if the day is pointless if I don’t get to talk to Dave. Nothing to keep me going. No enthusiasm. I’ll paint my nails I guess.

Monday September 5, 2005~10:15~in my room~I was only there for like 20 minutes when mom shows up, insisting I have to leave. I was so incredibly pissed, I started crying on the way home, + it continued for a long time afterwards. I was so mad, I wanted to just run out of the house + run all the way back to Dave’s. How would you feel mom if you only got to see Brad once every 2 weeks or so? No, scratch that. All your bestest friends. And all of the sudden, you get snatched away from that. I wanted to kick + scream, should out for all the world to hear.

September 20, 2005~Tuesday~8:46~in my room~I painted my nails a deep red! Kind of like a blood red. RAWR! I am the vampire goddess of the dark coming to rip you to pieces with my bloody fingertips! Haha! Woah. That was weird. See, when I don’t talk to Dave for a couple of days, I start to go insane... Pray for me so I don’t go around killing people, like Kassie, that Slayer-gone-Psycho-Demon..thingy thing.

November 24, 2005~Thursday~6:16~In the dining room at Carolyn’s parent’s house. Umm...yeah. Brandi’s on the computer, everyone else is either eating dessert or watching the football game. I can’t go lock myself in the bathroom like I do other family get-togethers because 1) this isn’t my family and 2) there’s only one bathroom.

Friday~November 25, 2005~1:48~In the same room. Kassie must have brought up my neck fetish or something. Great, huh? It’s stupid, something that doesn’t matter, something that shouldn’t have or ever again be brought up because it concerns no one save myself. Which is my I’m going to build up a resistance for it (+ also my waist) so nobody will care + no one can make fun of me for it. I can build up a mind-set for that, can’t I? I already accidently built one for kissing, great for Julia. Dunno how I’m gonna tear that one down, but I think Kayla can help me out mentally on that. As for physically... nevermind that.