She’s on her third cup of horrible, swamp coffee.

She likes the bitter kick. She’s wired – not really awake or asleep. She’s reached the

grey area. She sees the metaphor of a metaphor of a metaphor…….. She’s OCD. She groups

the letters of words from sentences to see if the sentence is odd or even. She even counts the

‘period’ and the dot of the ‘i’ .

She can’t stop thinking. Always moving.

They think she’s on drugs but she’s not though should most certainly be.

“Dristan and alcohol are a bad mix,” she states. “The back of your head pounds and only one

eye works.”

She’s been so pissed-off lately. So harsh. Cold.

She is ice.

She’s got these perma-bags under her eyes and fixed, ‘joue pas au con avec moi’

expression on her face. That’s french for ‘don’t fuck with me’ . We looked it up in this french

slang dictionary at some bookstore, days ago.

She creates her own hell – her own world of anger. She gives off these vibes: Go to

hell!, look at me, I’m better than you!

The cigarette dangling from her mouth is a constant. It’s so, “Fuck you. I accept toxins,” and

she holds her cigarette like a wise, old woman – a traveller from Portofino. Someone you

would stare at from across the room and make weird faces at and you would convince yourself

of what you think that person is all about. What their insides are like. But you are wrong. You

are always wrong.

She’s got this way of looking at you.

Right at you.


She is danger.

There is no point in my being nice to her – or warming to her because she doesn’t give a fuck.

She could be gone tomorow.

She is crazy brave.

She says you learn a lot about people by the messages they leave on answering

machines – how much they hate themselves, their insecurities.

She’s right about that. She is always right.

There’s no point in my obsession about her, because I know she doesn’t give me or the

thought of me a second thought.

I am her white noise. Background music, like in movies or supermarkets. Always there

but you don’t hear it unless you really pay attention. And when you hear it, you sigh and

remark how annoying it is. But when it’s gone it doesn’t feel right. It’s uncomfortably quiet.

I think I want to save her from herself. She is all I know.

“More coffee?”

She doesn’t even flinch. Usually, that means yes. When she’s had enough, she up and

leaves. No goodbye. See you later.

“Ffffff….,” that’s what laughter looks like on a piece of paper. She told me that once.

Don’t dare correct her. She only speaks what she believes, otherwise it’s not


She’s been sitting there awhile now. She wants us to think she is waiting for someone to

arrive shortly. We won’t sit with her.

She has this presence. We all stop and look when she walks in. We say hello, how are

you – though, we leave her be. We know she wants and wants not, our company. We will

never know which one she wants.

She’s waiting for someone who will never show up.

He doesn’t exist. Yet.

I’ve realized as of late that i spend a lot of time sitting rather than standing or lying down. I think my ass will begin to expand soon and take on a life of its own if i don’t get out there AsAp and shake it or something.i walk around all day when i am not sitting half asleep. i’ve taken to koffee like a sailor to the Sea.

Annie’s boyfriend put grapes in her twat
awhile back
and then one got stuck up there real far
and they panicked and thawt it would rot or something
so then she tried to pee it out
but it still wouldn’t come out of her
they tried putting their fingers in there
but then it mite squash
anyhow it finaLLy came out
and then her boyfriend ate it.

I told annie she shoulda clenched her pussy
real tite
or just waited if it got smushed after poking at it
then yer pussy naturally just i dunno
spits it out like discharge

or slides out

Annie is this hot chinkGurl who sits beside me in English Class. she has like ten pairs of really neat shoes

in grade one there was this cute chinese boy named Allan who loved me cuz i told him i liked his jogging suit or something equally lame to that compliment. then i hated him cuz he always followed me around. i use to steal his erasers and then rub them down into erase fluff and then leave the eraser fluff on his seat and when he sat on it the eraser fluff stuck to his skinny ass jogging suit pants.

we went to the zoo and ms.smith made me and and allan partners and i just wanted to die and get away frum him. anyhow, at lunchtime allan kept trying to hold my hand and i couldn’t stand the thawt of him so i pushed him really really hard and he fell back over this wooden fence-thing that had like a four foot drop and allan landed on his head in the dirt. i ran over and looked down at him all upside down and in an uncomfortable pretzel and he was crying and i laffed at him.

this woman saw the whole thing and ran to help him and went, “awwwww.” and sorta picked him up and scowled at me and i flipped out, grabbed allan’s arm and screamed,

“Don’t touch him. he’s MY boyfriend!!!!”

and he goes, “I am?!!!!! oh i lurve you. I knew you loved me too!!” when the lady walked away. and i sed, “Ew. gross. NO!”

I was just embarassed that sumwun caught me being a mean bitch.

I was almost killed twice today. once by a van and then the second time by a taxi. i am a superstar. i laFf in the face of death.

in two days it will be VaLentine’s day. grayt. 24 hours just to remind me how pathetically lonely and crazy i am. if i don’t get a valentine (and frum my mum and dad duzn’t count) i am going to be really really angry. and you’ll hear ALL about it!

I learned that the femaLe anaconda snake can have sex with like 7 other snakes at the same time. that makes me jellus. Also wal-mart has robot-like self checkouts now. the wave of the future. I made myself a burnt griLLed cheese samwich tonite for dinner cuz i was waiting for a kall frum newYork. fone ring damn you RING RING REEEEEEEEnG! now i am about to watch Dog Day AfternOOn wif al pacino InniT. that makes me sorta happY. also i know i wiLL get Laid tomorrow. knowing that i am getting laid calms me down. Oh yeh. tomorrow i have therpay with my muther. we don’t know how to comunicate properLy without yelling at eachother. Really if u asked me, i think it’s my brother who needs the therapy. I am bloated fruM drinking all this blue Juice. I went to lava Last Nite.