~woke up to my drunken sister at 3am, so naturally cuzzo and i start our day then, and later on walk to quickcheck in the rain, meanwhile smoking the whole time. a hannah montana dance was involved… fearnet anyone? :)
please don’t do anything stupid. I’ll miss you. even though you’ve been absent quite a while. imiss the real corey. try to find himwhile you’re away alright?? and bring him to me so I can hug him tight. I love you. g-night
Today. Last night I made the decision at the last minute to not go to school. And I was adamant about it. But this morning after an excruciatingly restless night, I decided that I would give school a try. I called my lovely mama Caitlin and she said she’d spare me the walk to the doom dungeon and scoop me. She told me to meet her at the Starbucks, which is where she usually gets me when she does me this favor, as she’s done before. “I’m leaving in five minutes and it takes me five to get there. See you soon little Kimy!” She’s adorable. I had ten minutes to pull my lie together on account of being so fucking down that I couldnt get out of bed earlier. I gathered the essentials: a small purse with cigarettes, lip stuff, and an empty wallent inside, a five subject notebook that contained my future and ramblings and shards of art, and a coat I could live inside if i chose to. I messed up my hair and left. Music fueling very step, I made my way about a block away to meet my Caitlin. I waited for a little bit, contemplating smoking a cigarette, reluctant because I didnt want her mom to peep me in action (she couldnt have the car this morning.) As I waited, I felt like an asshole for wearing the puffy jacket I dared to sport; I was hot in it and i felt foolish for underestimating the sun. What was I supposed to think?! The weather’s been shit with a capital S…Finally, her mother’s wheels came into view and that was all because I was fixated on the cracks in the ancient concrete. I looked up. “GOODMORNING!” Yeah, yeah; it was alright I suppose. I accompanied her as she bought her jump start and a bagel, warm, buttered, and comfortable that it contributed to someones morning…and weight gain. [Fuck bread and the likes. It all angers me. I wish bread was an empty food.] We mosied back to car, my lack of sleep dragging me further down with each one-foot-in-front-of-the-other. I did NOT want to arrive at this brick prison but soon, we made it. I went inside and had a rather pleasant first period: Pop Culture/20th Century History. His story, her story. Anyway, when it was over and the persistant bell rang, I felt accomplished and well. Walked down a flight of stairs, descended to my next jail cell. My teacher left about a week ago, and since there has been no one to cover. But today there was a sub. Mr. Simeon. I have had this man pop in and out of my life since first. He is very black and very short. Well, not that short. But shorter than me, as most people are. His accent is heavy and thick with some foreign place I cannot name. I signed my name on a sheet of blank notebook paper, guaranteeing my attendance, and the second he looked down at his desk, I jetted. Out, out, out the door. I walked with Corinne, who also snuck out at my request; she became a victim of my oozing persuasion. YEAH RIGHT. We walked to QuickChek and I rewarded my sleepless night with a large coffee, blackened with potential energies. I said my goodbyes and my youre adorables to Corinne and made my way to the main vein of my decaying town. There, I waited for the bus. Fast forward and I am at the mall-the next bus I need to take isnt coming for…just about 45 minutes. I make my way into the mall and relieve my bladder of the caffeinated elixir. After, I roamed and my feet led me to Sephora. I shoplifted two tubes of designer mascara and left. Back at the stop, I made my lashes even fatter, applying the goop to my already madeup eyes and waited. And waited. And smoked a cigarette. And waited. The bus came early and I got on it. Gave the driver a bus pass I knew wouldnt cover my trip. I feigned ignorance and found a seat. My trip was relaxing; I listened to Lil Wayne, my not-so-secret guilty pleasure (Emmy Wes..where are you? I AM DRAKE.) Once I got to where I need to be, I got off and walked to a deli. I always go there and its only for two reasons: to use the bathroom or to get my coffee fix; it is unexpectedly good. Today, I just needed to empty my tank. The funny/strange/inexplicable thing about this particular deli is that it is, in my mind, famous for its different hues of toilet paper. I shit you not. The last time I went, the tissue was blue. [!!!!!!!] This time around, it was green! It made me happy inside and out, the warmth of the feeling blanketing me. Its these simple things that aid me in making mediocre spans of twenty four hours a little more bearable. I walked down Hopper, a funny street with funny name. Funny because there are quiet houses with no signs of movement inside and you know there are people inside but they are either watching mindless programming or having sex on the floor. Or maybe the basement, where they can keep their shameful secrets hidden, off the first and second and sometimes third floors. Ill make my point: it is funny because the are wasting time refusing to be human. Refusing to breathe the air outside, not taking time to stretch their legs on plush grass, turning up their noses to the smell of the outdoors. The out of doors. And its funny (to me) because anything that strays from my bizzare way of thinking is just..otherworldy and I can do nothing but laugh and feel sorry. And laughing is a common symptom of humor so…
I got wayyyyy to lost with that one.
Moving on. I am making my way down the street and there are no sidewalks. All of a goddamn sudden, the BloodMobile pulls up. For those of you who arent aware, the BloodMobile is my lovely boyfriends set of wheels. It is the color of wine. INSIDE AND OUT. Haha! I got in and thanked God I didnt have to trek any longer, although I enjoyed it while it lasted. Corey was clad in a striped shirt and sweats. Wonderful Wednesday Morning attire, I was sure. We drove and I talked of my morning and told him how much I enjoy my first of the day. We got to the house and someone came to see him. Ill spare details because although he is a big part of it, it is not my life to share. And that’s that. I waited in the wine cooler for about twenty minutes, drawing all over Cor’s pack of cigarettes. I transformed it into a masterful piece of art. He came soon after to retrieve my being. We let ourselves into his quaint abode. I peed once fucking more because coffee wreaks havoc on my bladder. I sat at the computer to check my goshforsaken Facebook. It was stagnent, the same way I left it late last night. With the exception of a handful of notifications. I altered my quotes section and logged out. Thats when I decided, as Corey undressed to shower, that I would blog my day to that moment. And here I am and happen to be.
As for an explanation of the title, today is only a taste of giving up because, yes, I couldnt handle school on this given day but I did something else that I put will into. Which is being in good company (Jason arrived a few minutes ago). Therefore, I only took a glimpse at surrender, falling slightly at the sight of responsibilty of the educational variety. And that small taste was bad but I washed it out with liquid rainbows and todays clouds. It is wet and beautiful out, though I could see it as something terrible. But I will not be a victim of negative thinking today.
Today had been a satisfying day. Jason completed his ten month residence at the rehab I also went to (and miss horribly.) He picked me up around four and whisked me to my “home,” which is what I refer to that magical place as. I know some people are reading this and thinking WTF is up with this girl hahaha I grew a lot as a person there and enjoyed the people and things I did there. I was never the type that felt comfortable at home so that became the place I fit in just right. Everyone was fucked up, as I was. Everyone cried at night, as I did and still do. Everyone was drawn to the dark side, falling victim to the vice grip of whatever poison they prefered. I felt as though I was a part of something bigger: a family. Finally. So anyway, when I saw Jason standing in front of the family that would be left behind, an emotion I cant describe can over me. It was like..a..longing. I longed to be back in those halls, in those rooms, among the freaks and the weirdos, the fiends and the fuck ups. Goodnessssss, I just wanted to stay there. I miss it there so damn much..
Im rambling right about now cuz Im still caught up on the events of earlier. I guess I just need to get out that Im very proud of my good friend..so, so proud. And Im proud of the all the crazy motherfuckers that completed before and after myself.
Baby and the BloodMobile. So good! Hahah mom came home early..I was out. Made my way back to town and talked to kids on the bus about drugs and how they’re great buy I just couldn’t handle them. They happened to go to Mt Hebron. Hmmm. Got in town. Meat Locker; Izzy, Rawry, Clarence. WTF! So we danced and we sang and we cried out in the night. Rory and I went in a walk; girl problems and the Mexicali Rose bathroom. That’s when it secretly happened. I’ve been up since four the morning contemplating all that. It feels just fine. Only a side serving of shame and guilt. Is that indicative to the fact I’ve maybe grown a conscience? Interesting. I’m just upset to ruin what I had but everytime it happens, I’m fine with it. Blue can only. Hehe.
“there’s a virgin and her belly is rotting. this she doesn’t know. when your tummy is rotten, you can’t eat or drink except for OJ..and peanut butter. but you don’t gotta eat it if you don’t want to..have a sammich maybe. you gotta drink OJ to soak the rot up. these things you just don’t know, you can never eat enough..”—virgin, how your tummy’s aching-by my five year old sister just now..not even kidding. when I asked her the name of the song, that’s what she told me..and the words above actually free flowed from her mouth. gave me chills cuz she’s little as hell. when I asked her where she learned all this from, she said it was an original. HOLY SHIT.
Happy Valentines Day to all. Today was a decent day. I saw my lovely boyfriend and a lot of my rehab friends, namely Jason, Angelo, Taylor, and John. One day soon, Ill post pictures of my rehab family. They are the best people Ive ever met. We all went to Angelos house and watched The Breakfast Club because we are nerds. Corey and I were the only couple there so it was one of those situations you couldnt really get “comfortable” in. In THAT way, you know? Anyway, before this mellow afternoon/evening took place, there was havoc being wreaked within the walls that contain members of my kin. I cant describe these events in detail, or at all, because it kind of hurts, even now at 10:41 pm. It isnt late. But I feel as though its way past my bedtime. My body is tired and dragging and Im not sure I want to deal with the rest of the night.
What exactly is a family? A group of people who share bloodlines and ancestors. People destined to never get along because they realize at some point that theyre stuck with these other people. These people that have promised theyll be there through any and everything. BULLSHIT. Ive never felt so fucking alone. Maybe I put too much responsibilty on Corey, but he is seriously the only one that keep me grounded and sane. Thank all that is holy.
"Some days are harder than others." Thanks for sharing Mom.
I am broken down. And the worst part is I have no will or intention of rising from the ashes.
Also-John (the John is the mothers husband. Do not try to correct me by saying stepdad. Nosiree.) came into my room not too long ago and gave me a one pound bag of 97% fat free beef jerky. AMAZING. But every couple of bits, i get that pepper chunk that turns me off halfway. The fat free part got me excited because of my constant body crisis. YESSSS. As a sort or sidenote, I rediscovered my love for apple juice today. I informed my boyfriend of this and he simply stated that he told me so; he always tries to get me to drink it but I always decline because in my head I dont like it. I was a fiend for the stuff way back when Pluto was a planet, but i think I abused it, you know? So i havent drank it in a long, long while. Well, today, there was nothing in my fridge but OJ and this apple elixir. I do not like OJ..unless its the extreme pulp kind. Do not judge me. I ended pouring a glass of apple juice and dropping and ice cube in it; it landed with a loud, refreshing-sounding plop. I took a sip and that was it. I killed half a bottle. HOLY SHIT. It was amazing. Drank that sweet, cold goodness all the way down.
My mother is frustrated and is now banging pots and pans and muttering under her breath. I shouldve taken this to my room but wanted the company of my dining room table. She is beautiful and I love her more than I want to live. But I cant live here anymore, I cant stay. I have caused a lot of damage and I cant bear to be the cause of tension, which is present but no one calls it out.
I think that I am done now but I think, deep down, I will return sometime tonight. I feel like I have way more to say but not the words to verbalize it. And this is where I say
My head is heavy and I smell of sex. Went into orange. Cab status. Yorec and A-Lo, thank you.
As I was in the trance that is otherwise named as the “heat of the moment,” I kicked off my shoes and stated “aren’t shoes weird, babe? Theyre two coverings, two little houses for two body parts that don’t even matter!” He laughed, Corey laughed, and kissed my neck. I soon lost my question between the meeting of my thighs. But now, sitting on my bed, 11:31, it has come back up. Shoes are weird. I wouldn’t dare say they’re weirder than me; I wouldn’t imagine that they were..it’s just something to think about..
Only five people know how my Saturdays unfold. There is a ringing in my ears. I’m done hahah goodnight world.
I am crazy. A nut. And I am unapologetic. It came to me, in this late night that I am a little tweaked in the head.
I have an unbelievable past that resulted in these mental disturbances. What yielded from all the bullshit was this human being, this person who insists on breathing colors in and hears, only music, so clearly that she is forced to make love to it with her lips; she projects her voice like light through fog. It gets lost but she does it anyway because one day, someone will tell her to shut up and she won’t mind because it meant someone was listening..
There are people talking and laughing and balancing on their STILTlettos outside my window. I feel as though the alcohol on their breath will seep in through a hairthin crack between the sill and the window. This rattles me somewhere real deep inside.
Anyway. I am me, flaws, bullshit, you name it. Would I change a thing? HA! No, sir, thank you.
I woke up today from roughly three hours of sleep and discovered, almost instantly, that I was covered with blue and aquamarine glitter. WTF?! I don’t have glitter in my residence..at all. I told my lively friend Halle of this fact. She said there was something significant about people and glitter but age couldn’t recall exactly what. Then she suggested that maybe I lived a double life. Maybe I went to a rave. But I disagreed, stating what was true-my eyes were only closed for but a moment! She then made a tooth fairy reference, which two other people throughout my day also made. “I haven’t lost any teeth Halle.” And I smiled, proving fact all the while.
I like that I do not know how this happened. Why this happened. It’s a thought that’s been swirling in my head all damn day. Like clothes in a washing machine. The possibilites were all suds in there. Thinking about kept my mind busy; this left me no time to dwell on the negative. And I liked that. Usually I have no problem sitting neck deep in my own shit. I am the most comfortable when I am so low that my ass grinds into the rocky bottom. But focusing on this puzzling mystery kept every fell of me moving, propelling my mindset into a distant reality. Something no one could imagine but me. It may seem simple but even now my head is spilling over with possible stories. Maybe I do live a double life. And maybe the life I live when I’m awake found out about it. Like a woman who comes home early only to find her husband in bed with a ladytramp. It’s like all my itty bitty suspiscions were confirmed. I always wanted to fool myself into thinking that there was more to me than what people took at face value. I wanted to believe that so badly. And somehow, that weak need has been fulfilled. It’s not a huge life goal but now I know maybe there’s a little something lurking behind my own shadow. There’s a lot more blue at the bottom of my ocean. And I’m quite certain that there is more glitter where that all came from. Amen.
It is morning. I am up. Before the sun. Holy shit.
Wired like a fucking sound board. No lie. It’s crazy. My eyes are wide like a size fourteen. My bloods shakin..like boots. My brains whirrin like gears. Hello hello hello sun. WHICH ISNT EVEN UP YET!”
Exact words to Corey (amazing boyfriend lover) this morning. I only mention this because there really isn’t another way to describe how awake I am right now. Like..it’s stupid how up up up I am. And I feel like it has heightened my awareness which is a scary thing because I am an extremely observant person already. It’s like nothings hiding from me right now and I am so scared of what could possibly be exposed. It’s like shining a flashlight in the middle of the woods at night: you get that feeling in your gut that you’re gonna land your light on a blood thirtsy murderer that happens to be behind a tree and then it’s all over. I hope everyone gets what I’m trying to say. Because honestly, I am so “!!!!” that I’m doubting my ability to sound cohesive..oh Lord almighty.
Today should be an easy day; yesterday and the day before were snowdays and today is Friday so school shouldnt be horrible. It’ll be bearable, I suppose. What I really want to do is read House of Sand and Fog. I’m reading it for English 12 but I can’t ever put the book down during school. For anyone that hasn’t read it, YOU BETTER. Besides it being a great story, it has this racial-issues-and-prejudice undertone that sporadically jumps out throughout the book. It’s awesome. I haven’t finished it, but halfway through isn’t bad for someone who hasn’t done shit this year. I wanna devour those pages today. So amazing.
Yes, “goodnight” is one word. Being awake leaves no room to rest. I’ve said goodnight, I’ve said farewell and still I am here, battling feigned exhaustion. I feel incomplete due to the fact that my lover succumbed to slumber before goodnighting me. It’s okay that he fell asleep; he seemed tired even when I saw him earlier. It’s just that..well now I’m unsettled. The fault is not his. It’s my fault for depending on it. I’m a victim of routine, dammit. In any case, I will be here..wondering. And wishing. And whining. Because some things just won’t go right. I’ve learned to accept the fact; I’m just annoyed that it’s true.
I’ve never been fond of the truth. Even now, there are only a select few that I trust with being honest. And then there are those things you keep from every soul. That is not lying. That is hoarding reality. Back to the truth- it stings and it blinds people. Ties nerve endings into knots. For people like me it’s uncomfortable. It’s..it strays from normalcy. It’s almost backwards. Sometimes a lie is the only thing to live when you get bored of “real life.” Whatta crock of shit. Real world? REAL WORLD?! You mean the real world with a plethora of fake tits and tans? You mean the real world where it took our American government two seconds to get to Haiti but three days to get water to the Superdome after Katrina? You mean the real world where people revolve around media and the latest trends? The real world that’s full of bullshit opportunities? The real world where “you can be anything you wanna be” but you have to spend the rest of your life paying student loans? Let me tell you something: I’d rather spend the rest of my God given life in the confines of my mind because the real world is grey and cold and it’s covered in smog and smells like corruption. Look what we’ve done to our planet. Look how we’ve contorted reality; how we’ve detiriorated common morals. Look how we’ve thrust spears into the heart of genuine happiness. Look how we’ve stained clarity. The truth is I’m fine with letting that happen because the truth is the truth doesn’t exist and it wouldn’t matter anyway because every fucking word I let slip from my mind has been toyed with as a result of the above stated.
I make no sense. I’m delirious. Goodnight? I think not. I think I’ll roll around in all my ideas now.
Gone with every gust of blizzard winds.
This is my first post and I am sorry to report that I am sick to my stomach. I hit an AA meeting tonight and drank, what seemed like gallons, of coffee that was terrible alone but complimented the taste of Marlboro No. 27s. So goooood. Anyway, I’ve been having issues today about the way I look and how I feel about myself. I won’t get into detail but I just want to publicly thank my wonderful, amazing boyfriend. Gosh, he’s definitely too jive for life. He has helped me through so much shit and this is no exception. I’m taken aback by how patient and understanding he is with me. Like, who else would listen to me whine and complain?! Hahah :) I remarked that he is my best friend. And that he is. What a spectacular human speciman..
In other news, my drummer is getting out of rehab next Sunday. I’m quite excited. All I need is for my guitarist to get out and we are set. Good shit. None of this is making sense because no one has a background story to help them understand.
I’ll fill in the blanks; I promise. All I need is time- lifes deadliest enemy.