fell over a lot last nite. illegal boozecans. magicians. things you shouldn’t indulge in anymore. giving all your money away. the ultimate low. sleeping your day away. married on the beach. velvet drapes. need to do laundry. RAGBRAI. never eating perogies ever again. am i a junky? i am not a junky. time to wash my pants. the cat attacked my hand. tomorrow can be worse. yes i’m classy. yes i’m fancy. yes i love kevin spacey in the last twenty minutes of seven. oh to look at you in a cab, back of your head across my lap. it’s hard to understand, but the touch of your hand, can start me crying. fuckers. she’s a walking pharmacy. you don’t even need hate to have a perfectly miserable time. day after day wearing down everybody who gets near me. every guy i meet turns into jesus christ within twenty-four hours of meeting them. you seem like maybe you’re too intense for this world. but then i never had to worry about a crash landing because i never took off. you don’t need drugs. what you really need is close, caring relationships. you need to trust somebody. you need to think people are okay. she is the rain. you are global. i lose everything. i am a plane crash. she would just lie in her bed, staring at pink walls, taking pink pills that the nurse in white would give her. between the green pills and the yellow ones. and all these blues. but i can be your best friend. people tend to go crazy when they don’t even have a container of milk in the refrigerator. i myself am hell. us you them. i want my brain annihilated. Mellaril, an antipsychotic, a medication that’s been known to help schizophrenics during their visionary episodes, a major tranquilizer in the same family as Thorazine, blocking the receptor sites in your brain which connect facts with feelings. he was positively dapper. completely ass-backwards. listen to any unhappy person tell his tale of woe, and it sounds like every other tale of woe.
still she said relax and i said i wish.
the whole bunch of them can go blow as far as i’m concerned.
by then, i was a perfect weirdo by any standard. think so maybe. alcohol and drugs also mask a type of depression that is not so very different from my own. bickering about something that in measurable terms did not exist. i just hid in my room languishing in an increasingly morose state. it was as if she were part of the chorus in a Greek tragedy and this was the big funeral scene. i don’t want to deal with me. not sleeping, not even trying to sleep. i have that boozy and bruise-eyed look. taking drugs breeds taking more drugs. i was magnanimous and gregarious and all that stuff. i need the thing that happens when your brain shuts off and your heart turns on. i will be your little boy. i am okay. theme from twin sheiksr. until you are actually flying out of a window, you don’t have a problem. maybe i want to look cheap. she thought she looked just fine. her friends were all impressed by her sophistication.
Saturday, June 11, 1994 3:23pm – in the car -
My mom, dad, brother and I are going to Mike&Lena’s house. Our cousin Jeremy is there, too. We are going swimming. We are also going to eat dinner there too.
I’ll write back later. (MAYBE!)
ps. School is almost over!
this world. i tell you. i appreciate this anger. generally, jealousy alludes me. i just get pissed off. what pissed off feels like: hot-bubbly fire in your temples, the pounding of tambourines against your skull and a tight knot in the pit of your belly. everyone here is an artfag and a boy and i’m just a girl. billets et bagages. no deliveries 11:30am-2:00pm. gnova kel villa norman grisley quiet slums. subdued, oblivious-like yet very much aware of my surroundings. where’s the chicken head?/i will kill you in your sleep/this is a haiku. here we are again at the beginning. i am in commuter hell forever damned and sucked into the ocean of stampeding suits. everywhere you go/they’re expecting greatness/everywhere you turn. october 18 2000.
running wild. dreaming until your eyeballs pop. october 19 2000.
thinking to himself/why have the gods cursed my name/bad days forever
we are all slaving for causes we don’t believe in. collectively getting nowhere.
i can’t do this if your heart belongs to someone else.
i am pissed off all over the place today.
october 26 2000. different girls wearing the same shoes sitting beside each other in the cafe.
people who have had someone close to them die
are special people
be nice to them
listen to them speak
they are beautiful
i will never forget watching that man jump from 50 stories up and explode when he hit the ground.
i was 4 years old.
i will never forget watching television when i was 3 years old about 6 in the morning in florida.
and having lemon meringue pie for dessert on the airplane.
i will not ever forget making people cry and feeling horrible for it.
and my birthday goodbye party in maine and making all this lobster and not being able to eat any of it and havin to wear old lady sunglasses to hide my face.
i will never forget what it feels like to be upside-down on a rollercoaster and being on an airplane when it is taking off and thinking i might die today and it is ok because i am strapped into this seat and i am eating pretzels.
i will never forget the feeling i felt when my parents found out i was dating a 29 yr. old and i was only 16 and it was like this intense slow motion consuming fear.
i will never forget being told to get lost by all the popular kids in grade 6 after i got caught talking shit about all of them behind their backs.
and then they begged for my forgiveness and i went on to be the valedictorian.
btw – if you know of a cathy garcia. please tell her i think about her sometimes.