Damn, i am so pathetic. i go to school to use the e-mail. This is what my parents so diligently pay for??? Sigh sigh sigh...

i have thoroughly loved the time that i have had off from school lately, those vacations dedicated to one holiday or another...Not that i ever devoted much of my time to the thing, but i guess its just the thought of being free. And i have gotten a lot of time lately to devote to doing the ever so mindless things that keep me constantly amused like writing long letters to people that never write back. [ so i'm a moron and i never learn- in a past life i was that hamster that keeps reaching for the electrified cheese till it finally gets shocked one too many times and keels over with a thud...] [ THUD]

Now its almost Christmas again. Sigh sigh. i think the main reason that i "like" Christmas is cos we get more than 2 weeks off from school. [ aww, no hotmail for two whole weeks??[ grin] It doesn't even feel like Christmas to me at all. Of course, it didn't last year either. i think i'm losing my sense of affection for the holidays. They always make me cry anymore. But, reeelly, that is such a quail walk to what i was just saying, and oh well, no elaboration needed, cos its irrelevant anyway.

i have changed, or at least, i think i have changed, so incredibly much just over this summer. maybe it reeelly is all in my head, but i know that it isn't. i somehow went from "Abbey Road" ,"Help", high expectations to "Faith" and "Psychomagnet", and glass shards and more than just broken picture frames and this suffocating absolute apathy for everything that i know should be important to me....

And yeah, somehow, that particularly drastic change bothers me. In some deep way that can't reeelly be thought compleatly out....

Sorry i reeelly hadn't expected that mood change [ i realize that me getting " reflective is a highly frightening thing...] - chalk it up to "Disintegration' Which sounds like a cop out, but reeelly it isn't. Or maybe it reeelly is just me. [ fathom that??]

Hopefully she'll come back in the future, but till then, poor souls- you have to suffer through me dominating the text. [scary, i know.] But before i let you go tearing exuberantly through the pages, like i know you are dying to do [ grin] i have my last little paragraph of - drumroll??- thank you's!! [Lets all say, "YAAAAAYY!!!" ] . . . . . . . .

And so, with this shaky beginning, begins our lovely little trip. . . To any observant people who noticed that Starla is, uhhm, missing: No, my domineering side didn't cause me to lace her tea with arsenic and throw her limp cadaver into the ocean i live so close to, but rather, she has something that i apparently don't- a life. And so she has been pursuing this, while i've been occupying myself with my aforementioned mindless activities like taking bthose one hour trips to check my P.O. box to find that the only thing in my box was one piece of junk mail that wasn't even to me. [ But, no, i'm reelly not bitter about that.....]

Of course i've got to get a mention of my dear Chris, for the one letter [snarl] and the many calls,[ which forgives the one letter] and for promising to come see me soon; to everyone who has written to me recently; to whatever company or magazine gave my address away, cos the junkmail i have been getting form it is reelly quite cool; [ yeah it sounds odd, but hey, how else would i have known about Dark Gardens Open house, or those super spiffy painted colour-contacts, and such relevant and important things a that???]

to my mum, cos she's so darn spiffy [ grin grin] to Binky, [ hearts hearts, baby-doll !!] to whatever is in charge of making it rain, cos i am thoroughly enjoying it; and to Chris' friends, [ No, NOT you, Tran.] who apparently reeelly liked CLK #1, and gave it a good review. [ so i am a pretentious twit, but things like that do make me happy you know....!! ] And of course to my Princess Shari, whom i adore to the sky and back, now more than ever...even if she doesn't believe me when i say it anymore. [ Sometimes pretty, we have to have faith in such impossible things...] .

Hearts, stars and halos,

cynthia

P.S. If you are a kind, lovely soul that wants to send me something [ thus gaining my eternal adoration!!] , a letter, pipe bomb or otherwise, you can send it to me at: P.O.Bcx 223451 Carmel, Ca, 93923 or, if you are so inclined, you can e-mail me at krimsonkisses@hotmail.com [ apparently the little 12 year old boy who was running netaddress had his computer privileges revoked by his parents... No i reeelly don't know anything except that it doesn't work anymore, and the new one does. And, yeah, so i like the phrase...]

By Jestre

He's the one whose done all this?
Yes.
But so misinterpreted he is now.
To be a saint in latter years,
But how?
Just Not now, thats how.
Everyone is thought crazy 'now'
Because proof
Comes later,
In far away ways.
Unbelievable 'now'
But just wait,
They'll all get it later

And me? None of the above. Even on the good grooming part either...my mum is incredibly embarrassed by me and the things i want to wear. Not to mention the fact that i want to dye my hair black.... Whenever i wear something i'm reeelly proud of, like a pair of 20 eye Doc Martens and a black satin short dress, she says something like, " Why don't you dress like the rest of the girls your age?' i usually end up crying in my room-i've gotten to fuckin lazy now to even reach for the glass anymore.[ and i can't help but despise myself all the more, simply for that.]

She says that she doesn't care what grades i get, but what parent gets around the other bursting-with pride parents, with their picture perfect little sporty-religious-all american-brilliat-or beautiful, girls and says, ' Oh yes! My little girl got a 'D' in physics this time! And she even managed to grace a 'C' in Algebra!"

She reeelly wants me to be a rider. Thats the only thing about me that she is proud of; though i just do it as a favor to her reeelly. Its the one fucking thing that she is proud of me for, and i don't even like it that much, nor am i as good as she likes to think. i'm quite bad actually- i think thats why she never watches me anymore...which i understand. if there is one person that understands daydreams, as opposed to reality, i like to think it could be me.

i don't think she's all that proud of my artwork. i told her how happy i was to have gotten art as my elective this year, and she asked me why i didn't take drama instead.

Because mummy, i am not good at drama. I hate drama. i can't even bring myself to get up and perform in front of these people cos i am to stereotypically insecure or something... i just CAN"T do it. i hate it.

So,i have art. Its what i do. its the only thing that i can do, [and sometimes i can't even draw, and i want to rip my hair out...its all i have...] and its the only thing that i do that i reeelly give a fuck about. [ yes, i adore it cos it has nothing to do with other people. Nothing.]

She doesn't want to accept the fact that i can't DO anything else. She still wants to think of me as the gold medal girl i guess i was a while ago. Getting straight A's, being teachers pet, having lots of adorable little friends [the kind that parents appreciate- pig tails ad smiles; not the lithe pale shadow-angels i so desperately long for now....]

But I'M NOT THAT WAY ANYMORE. God knows i don't even get along with the people that used to be my 'friends.' i think they're superficial and petty, and they think i'm a stuck up bitch. Everything turns a circle....

I can't even bring myself to care about school or grades....For instance, i have a math test tomorrow, i am awful at math, and i should be studying. Cos i know i'll end up with a C or something if i don't. But i just can't make myself care anymore. i don't.

Someday, i'm going to be some fucking starving "artist" living off social security, trying to sell my multicolored pictures of stick figures. i don't know if she believes that i will end up that way, or not. i guess she still has that parental hope of My CHild Is Wonderful. She still has her images of me, running for president, or vice president, or managing a huge corporate business, or writing for a reeelly classy magazine or something....[ i hate thinking about all the things she ever tells me that she wants me to become, because it makes my head spin so....]

i don't know what she will do when she sees it happen.

I love my mum, no matter how fucking sad it is that i want her to be proud of me. She always has compared me to everyone else, so i know that even if she never admits it to herself, she still wants a first place, straight 'A' child. Perky, pretty, popular,intelligent.... Everything i'm not.

I guess this turned into a typical, 'my parents don't like me for who i am!!'' little rant that the world is so sick of. Oh well. I guess i am just typical. [ no sense in trying to deny that one...] By now i guess i should have admitted that to myself. [ i'm in denial too]

i'm reeelly not jumping on my mum for not being proud of me-i dont blame her. And i adore my mum beyond belief. i don't know i dont know i don't KNOW. i'm just a typical little loser-girl. How can anyone even want to take credit for bringing that into the world? i'm just a Typical, except i have no talent that will ever get me anywhere except homeless and starving. i have no talent at all actually. And no motivation, on top of that.....

So, does this mean that i reeelly am jealous of the picture perfects that i despise so much? am i saying that if i could trade it all in, ad become on of them, that i would? God, there are some things even i don't want to answer....

I had always loved the sky. Especially when it was raining. Then it seemed to match the colorand emotion of my thought sand my soul. [ if I still even had one anymore. I didn't really think I did.]

The spot of grass I was lying in had been perfectly green and thriving when I got here. In my mind, I could see how my corruption and awfulness had caused it to wither and die. I pictured a spot of dead grass in the shape of my silhouette. Just like those chalk drawings at murder sights.

I laughed.

Which would have surprised me if I hadn't been able to feel the bitterness rise to my heart.

[" So its all come back round to / Breaking apart again/ Breaking apart like I'm made up of glass again."]

At least there was no one around to tell me to smile. God, how sick I was of hearing that. Everywhere I went, people were asking me why I wasn't smiling, or ordering me to be as happy as they were. I despised people like that. The kinds of people who were just constantly happy, and refused to acknowledge that everybody else wasn't. It made me sick.

[ " You stifle me/ Infectious sense/ Of hopelessness/ And prayers for Rain."]

But no one could see me now.

I had no idea how long I had been lying in the grass. Nor could I summon the energy to care. What was the difference? The outcome would always be the same.

[" Oh I'm so glad you came/ I'm so glad you remembered/ To see how we're ending/ Our last dance together."]

The rain had washed most the blood from my arms off, creating a sordid mixture of mud and grime beneath them. But shortly after it stopped, I caused more blood to pool and run off again, this time more got on my clothes. I watched as the new an old bloodstains collided on the fabric. With a morbid fascination.

This time it didn't matter anymore.

I was a bit saddened that I could no longer read the lettering I had so carefully carved with the razor earlier, as the blood had mixed with the mud to form makeshift scabs. Though I knew exactly what they said. In my mind I could still see the perfectly formed inscriptions. I had always been able to see them, even when everyone else denied that they could too. I had been branded with them on the day i was born.

[" I'll never lose this pain/ Never dream of You again."]

I could never be anything but a shadow of what someone else already was. I had nothing of my own. And that was the absolute truth

I felt sick again. Sick of myself. So sick.

I laughed again. {its all I could do to keep from crying. Ad my eyes were so fucking sore from crying the last fifteen years of my goddamn life, I don't think I could handle much more. That was why I was here in the first place...]

Thoughts of everything that I had wanted to say to the very few people left that actually cared continued to flash across my mind. Before, I had planned to leave a novelette to everyone, completely individualized, which would have practically been the equivalent of everything I could have said if I had decided to stay. At least enough for a good 17 years of conversation.

["Just one more/ And I'll walk away/ All the everything you win/ Turns to nothing today."

But I knew if I had, I would have talked myself out of it all. I knew, because I always had before. I would start to think about how wonderful they had been, and how much I would miss them...... and then I wouldn't be able to go through with anything more than calling someone and sobbing long distance.

The self contempt rose to my throat again.

I remembered calling her everytime I was upset, out of my mind, and crying in the darkness. Every fucking time. I always had to have her help me out of it.

She always did.

I wasn't sure whether I loved her, or hated her because of that. [ sometimes I knew that I hated her for it. She kept me here for so much longer than I ever wanted. if I hadn't had her, I would have been here many years ago, instead of now...]

I wondered if she would miss me. I figured that she would, at least for a short while. But I knew this was the absolute best thing I could ever do for her. She would never have to deal with my incessant depression, me pouring pain into her otherwise normal existence. She didn't need that anymore.

My heart began to ache for her. She was one of the few people that could actually evoke any emotion from me. At least I wasn't going to be able to miss her. Soon.

[ " As bit by bit, it starts the need/ To just let go."]

I pulled the long, bone handled straight razor from my coat pocket, the one I had bought for quite a bit at some fake antique store, the kind that littered the streets of my hometown, catering to the touristy types, who loved the stuff.

[ I hated watching the tourists. not for the reasons that most people have, but because I hated to see people having such fun, with their happy perfect families. It always made me feel so sad.]

I felt that the job needed to be done that way. There was some poetry to its shape, its form. And because I had never wanted to do it this way. I had always been afraid of this, method... [ I wanted the easy way out.] This was my penance for that.

It had a beautiful bone handle, and the blade was laced with a reddish crust along the edge, but otherwise it shone brightly in the filtered light. I admired it momentarily, thinking about everything.

"And screamed at the make believe/ Screamed at the sky/ Till you finally found all your courage/ to let it all go."]

I knew this was all I deserved.

A sparkling remnant of a happier town, blood caking in the grass beneath my arms,a sky pouring rain, [as if even it realized how impure and tainted I was, and was trying to at least cleanse me, so that I wouldn't be such an eyesore.] and a head spinning with the lost lyrics, and broken song fragments that had become my endless anthems to 'live' by.

[ "If only I could fill/ My heart with love."]

It was over. Fuck, I should have done this so long ago.

[ god I hate her]

I returned to staring at the sky.

I had always loved the sky, especially when it was raining....

[Editors Note: yes, its true, due to my certain links with the author of this,[grin], i guess i 've gained a few insights on this piece....But i still think its pretty funny, if you don't take it seriously. Cos, hey, it is a PARODY, and its not supposed to be taken all that seriously.....just, you know, keep that in mind... It helps if you imagine it being spoken by one of those slightly, uhhm, deranged psychologists....] [grin]

Spontaneous goodness. Nothing is better than spontaneous goodness-especially when it had to do with food. Food , sex, and drugs. Nothing beats the feelings of food, sex, and/or drugs.

The top of the line, what keeps you going is always either food, sex or drug related.

Everything you do i life revolves around getting food, sex or drugs. A job, fir example,can bring you food, drugs and possibly even sex. Friends give you the self confidence to aquire a girlfriend. Especially when you are in The Crowd. A crowd of friends can help you get a girl/boy friend. ['nuff said about that purpose.]

Yes, food, sex, drugs, and significant others. Significant others are also good to have. On occasion; don't have to many significant others at once, though. This can lead to problems. Ad problems can also interfere with you're ultimate goal of obtaining food, sex, and drugs.

of course

I'm not crying

i'm cleaning out my skull

[surely you've done it this way]

Cleaning out the poison thoughts

that stain the bone

[never comes clean...never...]

still the barbed wire of memory

pulls tighter

till my eye sockets run dry

[i used all my tears tonight?]

i'll drain the blood instead then

blood

is

thicker

than

water

[ isn't it?]

But water doesn't create scars

[nor does it hurt to spill]

ignore the gash

you couldn't see it if you tried

if you tried

[its all in my head]

my mind

afterall

pain strikes deep

Digging deeper, draws more blood

it hurts

[i have got to stop thinking]

She said i was her friend. She told me i looked pretty

that way, after she had been playing with my hair. She said that i was strong minded, intriguing interesting and everything else... She said she thought i was intriguing.

She told me to smile innocently, just for once. [ i guess she never noticed how i always did around her. Only her.] She said she knew i was a good person.

She said we were friends.

I wanted to believe her so badly that i did. i just wanted to believe it. i wanted to believe everything she told me, everything she did. Everything.

She hugged me. She held my hand. With a strange smile she held my hand. [ i thought she was you, pretty girl....No one but you had ever done that for me... i began to think that she was like you. wanted to pretend that she was you.]

She wasn't.

My fucking god she wasn't at all....so i was left standing on the shards of the broken hopes i had.... i wished that i could have picked one up and used it. to cut through the pain i felt...one of the sparkling glass shards that i figured hope would've looked like... god i wanted a piece to help me forget her....

and to forget what she had said...the things she had asked me.....She thought she was so smart it turned my stomach. I felt like hitting her repeatedly and asking her if she ever thought i would do that, if she had seen that coming.

God fucken help me- i tried to be fucken valiant about it. Just like before."Denying" it seemed such a weak way to go...[ denying something that wasn't true to begin with?] [Because i've always wanted to be your Syd, pretty. i just wanted you to think of me as being that-as being so much more than i ever was. So Fucking morally strong and beautiful, and truly valiant. He at least knew what the fuck he was doing. i never did, but i always did what i thought i should, just so that maybe you could love me a little bit more...i just wanted you to be proud of me.....]

i almost did bring myself to "deny" it... i didn't want to lose her as well, like i had lost all the others, the ones that never reeeelly mattered to begin with...But she mattered... i didn't want to lose her......not her. [ she was supposed to be different]

But i couldn't justify my reasoning in wanting to deny something like that....i didn't care if people thought i was.....i think. i wanted not to care...No, i wanted THEM not to care. i wanted it to not even fucking matter-because truthfully, everyone should see that it isn't something so important to break things for... fragile things such as "friendship"...But they've never seen it quite that way....[ are my opinions so awful that i am the only one that feels that way? i hope not...]

Perhaps most of the country has 'gotten over' racial prejudice [its still here] and maybe people aren't so open about being sexist, [ though that hasn't died either] so, what, did we all collectively decide to move on to other discriminations? [ people sicken me so much sometimes....]

But i know how truly goddamn valiant i am.Yeah look at me, so damn smart and observant and brave that i get into the goddamn same mess as i was in last year. And i haven't changed anyone's opinion on..anything. I haven't even helped in the slightest.

[But the worst thing about it is that it still bothers me... i wish that i could say i had become immune to it, or that it had never bothered me to begin with, but thats a compleat lie....The world is so full of them, how does mine make a difference...?]

Even though i know it would have made no difference at all if i had stooped to the level of "denying" the accusation laid before me, she would never have believed me anyway.She thought she was the most brilliant person this side of Sussex, and after all, i was just being so "obvious about it." [ ??? i have no one here, so i know they've never seen me making out with a girl in the hall ways.....So i guess i still don't understand how she came to that conclusion...Maybe i just "give off vibes"...]

i kept thinking about the way she had held my hand. Everytime i did though, it made my skin crawl to think how she had just wanted to see my reaction to the gesture.... She wanted to see if i would jump up screaming saying,"Ewww, gross! did you reeelly think i was that way?!" And of course when i didn't, she was sure she had found her answer.

[ why is it that whenever people "find out" these things about me, i end up losing them?]

But the hours afterwards i spent writhing with pain and hatred and tears, i was being sincere. She may have been playing out a compleat lie, but i never had. My tears were real, my pain was straight from my own aching heart. i was being sincere..... i missed her already. [She was supposed to have been different.... she should have been perfect.....]

sometimes

the rain makes me think of you

sometimes when it rains so relentlessly

and never seems to stop

i remember things that never happened

at all to me,

but i wish with my entire bleeding heart

that i could have been yours

that with a kiss or hug,

or by running hands through raven coloured hair

reminded you of how pretty you are,

and given you back your wings

so you could fly back to heaven

and remain unscarred from life forever....

that i could have brushed away your tears,

and glued your halo back together

then kissed you once you smiled again

your angelic snow-white smile.....

or that i could have held you

on the cold, dark, wind driven nights

when your nightmares seemed too real

and nothing could ever convince you,

it was only a dream.....

or that i could have calmed your screaming thoughts

when your mind had become a violent whirlpool

of hurt and hate and love and loneliness and fear

and death and emptiness and hope

and of absolutely nothing at all,

then you'd laugh at the madness, and pull closer

and together we would watch

the incessant downpour of rain....

from a storm that would never, never end

i wish that i could say that i haven't obsessed over any mortals in a long time, Unfortunately that would be a blatant lie. For a while i was doing reeelly well. i mean, there was this stretch of time when i never even made notice of most mortals. They were just kind of Some Other Inhabitants On This Planet. if i saw a reeelly pretty boy, i would just think to myself, with absolutely no emotion attached to it, ' hmm. He's good looking.' And never give the creature a second thought, unless i happened to trip over him, thus severely damaging all of my limbs, some day afterwards.

i reeelly was that way...for a while. of course if anyone saw me now, they would never believe that. In fact, they would find it quite amusing to try to picture me that way.

Not only have i now been afflicted with the pitiable ailment of obsessing desperately over anyone blessed with [ or heck, especially those not blessed with it, thus obtaining it through such fantastic products as hair dye and crushed white powder...] pale skin and black hair, [ god, i don't even need to get into the story of how i ended up blatantly following the Borders Books-girl around the store for a while...She was wearing 2 reeelly pretty dresses, though...]

But, as if that weren't enough, now, on top of that, i seem to be stricken with a slightly worse/stronger [ perhaps only because i have to deal with it every day?] obsession. And this time, my obsession has a name....

[ it has been a mental debate for me, wondering whether or not an obsession is worse once it posses a name.i mean, isn't easier to accept the unabtainability of a person when you just refer to o them as ' pretty dress girl' or 'pretty hair boy' ? That way, every time you think about them, your chances of ever getting to know them are presented quite clearly in the title you bestowed upon them. You don't lead yourself in as much with faux intimacy that a name seems to offer....]

And this is a truly pointless obsession too. Not only is she complealtly unobtainable because she already has a boyfriend, but she is way out of my league as far as the popularity wheel goes. [ or doesn't go, in my sad little case.]

i guess i shouldn't be sobbing over her partly cos she actually does sometimes talk to me [ or at least, she did.]-which therefore gives me an extra bit that a lot of people i know-afflicted with the same impossible wishes-don't have. And yet, its when she talks to me that i want to refuse to let her go even more. Like today she was playing with my hair, trying to get one piece to stay behind my ear, and when she stopped, i almost began begging for her not to. Or i'll see her link arms with someone, and almost start crying..... jealous? Of course, and yet even worse. Even past pathetic. Even for me. ive gotten more possessive of her than any person ever should be of anyone. Probably even of their pets...

At this point, everything i do and feel is determined by whether or not she spoke with me, etc. i have become so desperately clinging to this candy floss thin shard of hope of her speaking/interacting with me... A shard that is badly broken, bruised and re-taped in multiple places. Everytime it cracks somewhere, i end up slouching over my study hall desk with my head in hands, or hands drawing teary eyed people, that i have by now drawn so many time, it is embedded deep into my psyche of how to do one. [ their kind of amusing, those pictures-in that most of the time i don't actually set out to draw a teary eyed person, and then always end up adding the attribute. i think it makes them look beautiful...] or writing poems that would only be considered anguished [ or even a poem] by me. Then i always end by scribbling insanely, and stabbing a piece of paper violently, and multiple times.....

i actually started tearing at my hands with my nails. i dug a hell of a lot deeper than i had thought i could at the time. After a bit of clawing, my hands almost lost all feeling... i did that during science class. She was crying that class period-i didn't and still don't know why- i think thats why i did it. She sits right next to me- i guess i half expected or wanted her to rescue me from my self. [ sad isn't it? i guess i never grew out of fairy tales.] The cuts are still healing. Everytime i see them, its just another reminder of the impossibility of it all.

She's become almost like a reeelly bad drug for me. Or ive become addicted to her. Once she told me that i was 'intriguing' and i was thrilled for about 2 hours, than after being away from her i slid back into withdrawal. [ pencil drawings poems nails]

Oh Yes, i'm actually in a healthy state of mind. [ am i in a state of mind???] For those few moments each day that she actually talks to me, i am perfectly normal.

God i can't help but see myself as pathetic when i realize how damn clingy and dependent i am to people. How i allow myself to be compleatly controlled by insane and uncontrolled emotions. To the point that all i can do is sit, stare at her, and dig a little deeper with my nails. Just a little.....

well, if for nothing else, i am severely thankful that we are on break from school for 4 more days....and though i do wish we had longer, at least my shred of hope is that i only have to endure 3 more weeks [ including finals!! groan] and then we have 3 weeks off for Christmas....Hurrah, hurrah.

i reeelly am looking forward to Christmas though... i have been saying this since August, haven't i? oh well-its the truth. Partially cos it means that i don't have to suffer the indignity that is school, [ yeah, like i should complain...] and can sleep, also cos i get to see my brother, whom i haven't seen in about four months. And of course i am reeelly looking forward to that. Not that i am gonna be doing anything that grand with him, its just that when he goes places with me, the most ordinary things become so damn amusing....Like going to the little acoustic show at a local coffee place, and making them an applause sign....That was just so much fun.... [ yeah, i realize i had an entire rant devoted to my dear sibling last time, so i'll try to tone it down now....]

this has actually been a rather interesting month. At least in my humble opinion. [grin] i guess a lot of it is for slightly petty and superficial things, like finding the most kick arse coat in the entire world. [ ok so i still reeelly want that coat from this videos i saw, but i have a feeling i will never quite find something that gorgeous, especially not in the area that i live in....] And even though it was last month, i had a blast when my mum and i went up to British Columbia for a short while... of course i always love traveling.....

i got to go to Los Gatos for a couple of days, and though it doesn't seem like paradise, i always enjoy it cos not only is it the home of Streetlight Records + Rasputin Music, as well as Hot Topic [yay, even though i truly wish i could boycott them, cos they are so damn expensive, and all the stuff i bought from them is already falling apart!! grr...oh well, its the only place that carries so much black velvet and satin....], it is also the home of my incredibly incredibly good friend, Shari....

So, of course i got to see her for a while, seeing as that actually was the whole reason behind my going down [ ack, its actually up from here, but i always say down!!] there. i was thrilled as hell to take the Greyhound up, but oh well, i reeelly couldn't wait to go, and all that week in school, my mind was there, instead of on whatever the teachers were talking about.... [ i guess i have to give my teacher points for that- all other teachers that i have had, wait till they are absolutely certain that you aren't paying attention, and then call on you, just cos it amuses them so. Where as my teachers i guess just kind of don't care whether i am thinking about crushed white powder or molecules....Funny, they always seem to call on everyone else who spaces out...ah well, for once i reeelly won't over think that.]

So of course, in the end i managed to hitch a ride with her very beautiful and wonderful self to Streetlight, where she continued to amaze me with her knowledge of all things indie. And i just sheepishly stood there leafing through an issue of Carpe Noctem, and eyeing this picture of a gorgeous blonde-white haired boy with smudged eyeliner in an old issue of Propaganda, feeling like a compleat moron....

[ and then, of course there was the dark-blondish haired boy that managed to help me overcome, at least temporarily, my extreme hair colour inferiority complex.....[grin- i am so evil....]

I also got some pretty spiffy mail this month. [ though my Fall From Grace catalog, which i ordered back in August, is nowhere to be found!!] and the world knows how i thrive on the stuff....Though there was this one incident, when i got this little slip of paper in my box, the ones that say 'we are holding some of your mail for the following reasons' and then goes on to list them. [ you know, packages, you have to much of it, etc. etc.] So i was reeelly excited that perhaps some sweet soul had sent me a package! But when i redeemed the thing [ i had to wait over the weekend!] they brought out this package, and i was flying quite high till i saw it was addressed to a Georgio Fernandez or something. Yuck.

And recently, i have picked up the strangest verbal habits...!! Like using words such as spiffy, neato and nifty. ??!?? Where the hell did i suddenly pick those up from?? i haven't the faintest, but my god i seem to use them constantly!! My friends always bother me about the fact that i pick a word, and use it incesantly... It is true though, i think i go through a couple a month, or something like that...

And wonder of wonders, it has been raining a lot here, which i utterly adore. It has been raining reeelly hard too, which it hasn't done in a long time. So that has quite lifted my spirits, especially the prospect that El Nino should be hitting here shortly....yay!! So i have seriously worn out my poor copy of Disintegration, By listening to it as much as i do- which is basically every time that it rains. [ yeah, you can see the influences peppered heavily throughout this ish'...! i was reelly blatant about it too...]

Which of course, has all added up so that now i think that i have listened to that album more than most people....i guess my fanaticism about it was derived from when someone said that it was a perfect album for rainy days... and they were most definitely right. So ever since then, thats what i've done...for quite while now, actually. But it is such a gorgeously amazing album, and i adore it so much...perhaps that is at least a small part of the reason that i have been praying for the rain so passionately.[grin] For some reason it reminds me of that state between sleep and full consciousness....

Thats sort of what this month has been for me, in a semi-sleep induced haze. Not particularly cos it has all been good, thats just been my state of mind for the past few weeks. i can't say exactly why, but i reeelly do feel like a somnambulist, just sort of drifting through everything.... Nothing has actually happened to me, i can't actually FEEL anything if it has, cos in a while, i'll wake up and have to do it over again...[ but we all know that dreams are nice while they last, even if they never do.]

i can't figure out why [ with a few exceptions ] all of my 'friends' are people that i would never have picked to be friends with? i mean, they have so many qualities i can't stand. For one they are all in advanced stages of denial that Death reeelly isn't just a figment of my sordid personality.

Its true, though. They try their very hardest to ignore it. Which in a way, you could consider them to be "blissfully unaware", and therefore in a state of mind worthy of envying.And to a point could agree. But at the same time....

There is this part of me, that screams at me from its place in the shadows of my mind, that tells me to face everything awful. But not that encouraging, maternal voice that so many people have, that says things like, " Now honey, you can't be in denial all your life. Sometimes things just turn out this way. And it is better if you just face it and cope with it.. Then it will get better."

No, mine is like a little red, somethingorother that had its halo revoked, who shrieks things like, "Damn you! You must see Death! Hear it, taste it! live with IT!!! Have it steal someone you love, and only then can you ever begin to understand things!! DEATH IS INEVITABLE NO MATTER HOW LONG YOU IGNORE IT!!!" And then it cackles evilly with the intensity of someone who knows they are right.

I don't know if i consider the whatchamicallit in my head welcome or not.I know that i am the last person on this planet who should even be approaching this subject, seeing as i haven't been subjugated to any number of unfair and illogical deaths in my feeble existence. My mum wasn't killed in a viscous 5 car pile up caused by a drunk driver, my few friends that i actually give a damn about, [ and heck, eve the ones that i don't] weren't gunned down in a crossfire, and my dear brother is still quite alive and well.

And if they had? Wouldn't i have a compleatlly different outlook on the subject? Probably. Perhaps then i would envy the peaceful denial held by so many of those i know.

i guess what my main gripe here is about all the super prudent people that i go to school with. yes those ones who try their darned hardest to convince themselves that death is a figment of their [ or mine even] imagination. i don't know, i just don't like that. i can't respect it-not for them anyway. Perhaps if their entire families had been murdered, i could be more sympathetic towards their denial. But i mean, to me at least, death is just another unpleasant fact about life. Sure, it doesn't involve the sunshine and rainbows that they inject ito everything else in life, but god how much more boring life would be if that was all it was-sunshine and rainbows.

[i keep finding myself defending what i am saying.... what i mean ... i'm not saying that i am super pro death, nor am i so darn in love with it that i sit here and wish it upon everyone i know. [ not everyone...] i just think that my little prudent peoples should just accept the fact that it actually is real. And that thinking about it every now and then reeelly isn't such an awful thing to do...]

My 'friend' gets reeelly mad at me cos i'm just SO darn morbid. that makes me laugh. Me?? Well i guess it's all relative, and in comparison with her i'm an undertaker or something... i still find it darn amusing though, to think of myself as just being this perpetually morbid person. i think that the biggest compliments she has ever given me are " You're so morbid! And you're SO cynical!!!" I thanked her when she said that, and ive rarely seen her more shocked.

She is the prime example of what i mean about my friends though. Shes a perfectly nice person, and i'm not trying to demean her, reeelly, but she's just So sunny and happy and she doesn't even like the colour black and and and.... And yes, it get monotonous after a while. Just like sunlight-it gets old very quickly

It's true thought, just to act as a counteraction to them, i do get reeelly cynical and morbid. [ more than usual at least.] partly to annoy them. its just reverse psychology though- i mean, when the signs says not to do something, somebody will, just cos it said not too.....Just as every bunch of optimists needs their own personal rain cloud to rain on their faux realities. By definition, i am supposed to be there, and filling my little stereotype. We all have one, don't we....

So if they expect me to be that way, i guess i might as well go through the trouble to make it so.

My parents tell me about how i was such a happy little kid. I don't remember being that way though. i mean i know i can be happy, [ and most of my writing, other than poetry, is perpetually happy...] but i just don't remember being one of those constantly buoyant people. They say i used to be out going, and i think that is damn amusing. i can't even deal with people now. not real people, and especially not the types of people that i do know.

Though, truthfully, sometimes it reeelly does make me sad to think of losing all of that....somehow i feel like i have lost all of my innocence, though i know anyone would love to give me a lecture about how i don't have the faintest idea what i am talking about. Of course i have time to go out, and seek all the wonders this world has to offer me, they would say. You are far to young to give up on the world.

Am i? i don feel it. [Perhaps you're never to young to feel old.] i guess they think i should be more like my pseudo-friends are, though i know i would never be able to look myself in the mirror if i were.....

If you put all my friends in a room together, it would be like a convention of super happy people. A reeelly, reeelly small convention. i'm usually not always quite as buoyant as them, which annoys them, and then they decide that they don't want to be around someone so morbid and negative and pessimistic. Great, fine. leave me alone. That is what i wanted anyway, right?

I admit--

I tried so hard to forget you,

the memories too bloody and soaked through with

the desperate tears of futility the once fine lines of what I thought to be love

now blurred and torn by the hate and carelessness

I had put there

I thought that could be the end

that it could be so simple

to clear a mind of such things as jealousy

and not quite hate, but never quite love either....

I thought that could be the end

but I woke up too often thinking about you

and shadows of love

and crystalline tears

and starry eyed glances

and castles in the clouds

and sharing candy cane kisses

on those moonlit nights

and of all the hopeless, impossible wishes

that always came true

at least

whenever you held my hand....

but your memories are so painful to walk through

reminiscent of broken glass

each step cutting deeper

and I vowed

never to go through that again

I vowed that I would forget the past

and yet, I still wake up with

bleeding feet and an aching heart

because it is impossible to ever forget

such things as these

And yet, I will never stop trying

But anyway, hee are a few of the super spiffy-cool zines that have been occupying my attention, both at school and at home, while i have been reading them when i was supposed to be doing my homework....or something like that. [ grin]

Black Sunshine #3- it was almost strange for me, reading Jens zine, cos a lot of the things that she writes about are things that i have unhappily dealt with. She also has the same predicament as me; she goes to a Catholic school. [ and wants to wear her Docs every day too!!] So theres a rant about her religion class [ deja-vu...!!] why P.E. is stupid, [ rah, rah!! You gotta love her theory about why its required to be taken as a class!] some Sailor Moon stuff, and an article about a Type O Negative concert. And it has an awesome cover too!

.50/ trade [ er, since she is in Canada, the price is about .75, or thats what she said anyway] Jen, 28 Seaton Dr. Aurora, Ont. l4G2K1

Iceblink #2- This issue has an amusing account about working at the Alameda County Fair, lots on ska music, a comic strip about a girl and her coat, [ Rah, Rah!!!!], a couple of show reviews, something about conductors, a piece about choosing the perfect shoes- ones that look spiffy, and will also protect you from the perils that are dancing at a show, and what it like working in a flower shop where the boss is too damn cheap to spring for some heating in the buildings.

Bonnie +Renee- P.O. Box 5506, Pleasonton, CA. 94566 [$1+2 stamps]

Peeking Through The Keyhole #3- Kevin is quite a dear soul, cos i, upon reading a review which stated that was the price, sent him a stamp for his zine. And i was blissfully unaware of my mistake till i received a letter from him, accompanying the issue, that said that he "generally aimed to get a dollar thru the mail" , but it was ok, cos he reeelly wasn't all that interested in the cash. [ so of course i sent him the money the next day with an apology!] But anyway, this issue has a lot of single and album reviews, a piece on Rammstein, the Bauhaus school, [ which reeelly isn't what it sounds like... or maybe i'm just closed minded...] and some info on whats happening with a bunch of other spiffy zines.

Kevin- 25 Route 31 South - Suite C-1009 Pennington, NJ, 08534 [uhhm, his ads say $2, but this ish says $1....]

Moon Fuzz- i have no idea what issue number this is, but it has alot of miscellaneous rants and stories and the like, a couple on those long contemplative walks, [ which i thought was cool cos i seem to take those a lot....] a cartoon about macaroni and cheese, and some nifty drawings.

Serra- 16741 Georgious Way, Ramona, Ca, 92065, [$1]

Miss Nothing #3- Althea is reeelly sweet, cos she sent a reeelly long note with this ish', and we all know how easy it is to steal my heart with a letter... But this ish' has a lot of poetry, reprinted lyrics, a bad review of a reeelly bad book, a list 10 reasons why we all should like Courtney, and lots and lots of pictures of both Courtney and Kurt.

Althea- 2773 Grovenburg Rd, Lansing, MI, 48911 [$2 + 2 stamps/reasonable trade]

Futility #10/Cornerstone-ok, i realize that i had a reeelly small gushing about the Cornerstone last time, but its just so darn cool!! Especially since i don't get to make trips to Capitola and San Jose all that often, where else am i going to get my supply of manic panic?? And she just expanded the selection, so now it has even more statuary, jewelry, cosmetics, candles, incense, Johnny the Homicidal Maniac and more! [And now she even has the colour descriptions next to the names of the make-up. Which would have been reeeelly helpful to me before, when i ordered Damnation believing that it was red, and having it turn out to be dark brown.....] Anyway, Mare also does Futility, which features an article about Poppy Z Brite and her interviews, some on Anne Rice and her books, a rant about "Kinko Hell" and some other short stories.

The Cornerstone- 1147 Main St, Worcester, MA 01603

[2 stamps gets you The Cornerstone, $2 gets you Futility]

Baa! I'm a Sheep #3- Yeah i realize that my dear Shari is adored by so many other zinstresses, and therefore gets reviewed and mentioned a lot, but oh well, i adore her too, so there. And her zine is reeelly reeelly good. This ish' has more comics,[ including I'm Not Really Here #3!] lots more poetry, "fun-spastic fashion suggestions", something on school dances, an anti-homophobia article, lots of info on her, and all those things that make her happy, a few short stories, lots of art, and lots of other super-spiffy stuff!!

Shari- 100Milani Ct, Los Gatos CA, 95930 [ $2/trad

A reeelly good friend of mine took a melatonin pill once, and told me about it. [ I think I must have asked her. I don't know, I've had an obsession with the word alone for a while, so I thought I should hear about the stuff...] She said it made her so depressed that she cried all afternoon and almost killed herself. She advised me never to take any. [ I know why she did, afterall...]

She's not one to exaggerate things, so I believed her. I don't reeelly know how many i've taken over the past while, but thats not reeelly as important. I compleatly beleived that what she had said about them was true.

I guess I just wanted to see where it could take me. [ and god does my brother ever have some interesting stories about the stuff.... Of course they are all like completely different destinations than where I was hoping it could get me.... but I would have gladly gone....]. I've been on this seemingly uncrashable happiness streak for too damn long now, and it is more than just starting to make me sick. Reeelly, really, sick.

Now I can only remember collapsing against my door, the stairs, the floor, it didn't even matter. And just lying there for hours cos I was crying to hard to even try to move. The pounding incessant strains of 'Siamese twins' or 'Figurehead'twisting through my mind, as the blood, tears and pain began to run together in a violent indistinguishable torrent. I spent a good deal of my summer there, on the ground, listening , drowning, chocking and crying.

And then came this. This disgusting contentedness that I seem to be stuck with forever now. It bothers me. I'm afraid of becoming one of those perpetually happy, mindless people that I know so well. Those people, the super optimists who used to hang out with me, till they decided I was too "messed up."

Perhaps I took their offhanded compliment a little to much to heart this time.

I suppose it could be considered 'messed up" to wan to go back to being under the control of tears and longing and hatred. It even seems slightly that way to me. Truthfully I don't even know the exact reason I want to go back. or at least I can't explain it. I just don't know what I'm becoming....[ mindless?]

Perhaps I just see to much in tears and crying and just being sad. Maybe I interpret things into it that were never meant to be there.

I see a form of beauty in it that most people wouldn't, I suppose.[ though I don't interpret that onto myself. just when I see someone who is or has been crying. then I interpret it onto them....Or other people I happen to be fond of...]I have really developed a fetish for crying boys and runny eyeliner. God I guess I am messed up. More than even I realized...

But at this point I don't care anymore whether I am messed up or not. It doesn't bother me. [ apparently nothing does anymore...] Hell, I may even be a bit proud of the claim. [ a bit?] They haven't locked me away in an asylum yet, so I must be just fine....

Of course, even with the accumulative of like 20-30 pills that I have taken over the course of the last couple of weeks, I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. That thought alone causes me to go into fits of not quite rage but a good enough word, and slam my head against the headboard of my bed repeatedly....

And yet I still can't even bring myself to almost cry. All I get is a slightly heavy feeling in my stomach, that makes me sick with not quite rage just because THAT IS ALL I HAVE BEEN ABLE TO FEEL FOR THE LAST 6 MONTHS.

Hey, i think its about time to go on another of my overly-prolonged and horrifically pointless rants....and hey, why not go on a rant about my lovely Catholic school!! [ rah, rah, i know, but hell, i just kinda feel like spewing about it for a while, ok??]

i don't particularly hate my school, per say, other than the fact that it IS school, and i have to actually get out of bed to go there, and do so five days a week.. Like i said, i know that there are a lot a schools worse than this. And the fact that it is all girls doesn't bother me like it bothers everyone else. [ perhaps due to the fat that i was raised to have a great amount of faith for all girl schools??]

And the people are at least pretty nice to you, or so, at least, the illusion goes. [ True, the second you leave they return to talking about you again, but falseness it what makes the school spin round... or something like that...]

Its funny though, it reeelly seems that 90% of the population of it were made out of the same mold.... They reeelly are so much alike each other, its almost uncanny, you kind of expect them all to talk at the same time or something...

i guess i am just too harsh and quick to judge the people i go to school with. i mean, it tisn't like i am on a huge superiority trip, and i am saying that i am so much better than them because i don't sit around talking about how much i love No Doubt, and how ," Gavin is my husband!!"

But at the same time, since i don't particularly enjoy being with them, everyone seems to think that i am incredibly stuck up and conceited. i know that i am considered a snob by most people. Most of the No Doubt people anyway. That is the part about my school that i dislike the most-the people, [ the falseness of them, at least.] And what would school be like without those lovely people?? [better i think, but that tis another story, reeelly.]

Yeah, obviously we have uniforms too. Which is slightly annoying, especially seeing as i'd so love to wear my Docs instead of my little brown dress shoes, but it doesn't bother me THAT badly, as much as it bothers some people. i do have to admit it is at least kinda nice knowing exactly what i am going to wear every day, even if it just so happens to be a kilt and green tights.

Of course, religion would be my least favorite class. [ so i have just never been a typically spiritual person...] At least my teacher is slightly more sane than the one i had last year, who believed that her " guardian angel" was named Franswa, and brought her things.... [ am i missing something? not that i have much against the prospect of having guardian angels and all, hey its a nice thought! But to go as far as naming it, and saying that it brought you things?? Thats just a little far....]

[ hey, if i said my imaginary friend named Perry brought me presents all the time, how long do you think it'd be before i landed in an asylum?? i guess i have some issues on religion fanaticism, being linked with insanity...]

She also insulted us for being closed-minded, because some of us wouldn't accept the notion that her opinion was the only correct one, and then when some brave soul told her that she was being hypocritical, by telling us that WE were the close-minded ones, she said we had compleatly missed the point by not paying attention.

Ah, i shall always have fond memories of those classes. The screaming, the yelling, the name calling.....They did nothing but dim my outlook on religion. i mean, i guess i always thought that things like religion was supposed to bring people closer to each other, to be humane and understanding and all.

But thankfully, we don't have that so much this year. We're just sort of mundanely studying and over-analyzing the Bible, chapter by chapter, and listening to the teacher go on long monologues about, well, actually i never pay much attention so i wouldn't know. But at least the tests are reeelly easy, and don't require much studying, especially seeing as the teacher reviews the questions seconds before giving you the test with the same ones on it. i think that is how i manage to get the scores i do on the tests. i didn't even read one of the stories we had to write an essay on, and i got full credit!!

The teacher used to not be very fond of me, but ever since she mistook my ankh for a cross, [ what is it with this?? it reeelly doesn't look like a cross, and yet several people have mistaken it for just that?!?] she has decided that i am decent afterall..... So now she smiles at me during class, and grades me a lot easier than before. Which i do feel kinda guilty about, but hey, i didn't suck up to get her to like me! i just wore my "cross", like always....

The rest of my teachers are actually pretty damn cool, which i guess am lucky for. [ that sounds odd, now doesn't it??] i don't know, they're quite human, which teachers so rarely are, at least in my opinion. and most of them have s sense of humour, which is always a good thing. Even if they always make jokes/comments about me being the "quiet" one. i admit, i am not exactly the one to answer all the questions and all, but it does get annoying being constantly refereed to as quiet., because i'm not always like that.

i don't know, it does sound odd for someone to actually say decent things about their school, but.... i guess its just cos i have gone to schools that are so much worse, [ and my god, this school is on like 10 acres of rose bushes and rolling hills!!] that i am grateful that this is actually pretty decent. True, it is an absolute breeding ground for homophobia and racism and sexism and the like, and a general sort of close-mindedness...But then again, i despise that phrase cos it seems to me that people on both sides are close-minded. [ i.e. the homophobe is closed-minded, because they refuse to see the others point of view on the subject. And yet, their opponent is also closed-minded cos they don't agree with the homophobe... sigh, its all a viscous circle....][ grin]

So i don't adore school. i long for the weekends and pine for vacations. That isn't quite as strange as i'm sure i wish it were. [ grin.] And so then, that makes me pretty typical then, doesn't it??? [ grin grin]