INSIDE THE TUBED VESSLES

December 2 2004
I almost passed out today. I don't know why. I'm doing everything I should be doing. Maybe its just because I fail at life.
I continue to go around in circles. Get motivated, become lazy, Get motivated become lazy. And lets not forget the inabilty to feel emotion anymore. Some women on my bus started crying today, she was sitting beside me and was sobbing quite loudly, instead of offering her a tissue or asking her what was wrong I took off my headphones and coldly asked her to keep it down. I don't care. I felt envy for that woman on the bus. She still feels.
Everyone continues to get more selfish each day, more rude. I include myself in this surfacing inconsideracy (if thats even a word). People step on each others feet, swing backpacks in each others faces, bump into them and just pass by. Like it says in waking life ; its a continuem of ants rushing around. Never ending. One huge cycle until you drop dead. Nothing more to it. No god. No meaning of living. We are leftovers from a perfected picture. Leftovers you and I. Depressing isn't it, I would think so if I had emotions today. Im too tired, to fed up with myself to feel anything. I hate Kelly today. Hate her hate her hate her. Get a life Kelly get a fucking life.
Kelly has a life she trys to play guitar, trys to sing. She trys to stick out her neck and look pretty but that Kelly oh that Kelly just is such a goofball aint she? Kelly with more effort you can succeed. Kelly you are not meeting your full potential. Kelly would like drugs to just be fucking sedated. Kelly hates life this week. Kelly promised she will quit drugs and has. Nope no more drugs for Kelly. So Kelly eats excessive amounts of cheerios. Because cheerios sound so fucking cheery. She says "this breakfast food shall bring me eternal happieness" but that just doesnt happen. No Kelly finds herself to have not changed since two days ago but maybe expanded. Kelly is a freak. Kelly is going to go talk to Brian because Mike didnt call.


November 24 2004
I write to you from the confines of Oak Bay secondary library. My computer has been defeated temporarily by the menacing Ad-ware. Not to fear dear web fans who depend on this piece of shit site for dear life, my idiot box is still usable. Just rediculously slow.
It pissed rain today and the day before that, thus magnetically pulling a posse of grade nine female individuals out of their cloths and into a petaphiliac fantasy during lunch (in other words mud wresting in there undercloths...sluts). Then there were the skim borders skimming it up during C block. And it all took place on our field... because its flooded. Because of ... sky liquid.
http://www.cbc.ca/greastest/ 
Now please will someone go here and assure me that its not just myself who disagrees with this list intensly. I scanned over it a couple times and realized that many of the people on this list dont deserve to be there. Yes Avril is a great canadian, just watch one of her interviews and it is clear that she has a contagious smile and a bucket full of excellent personality traits. She obviously has great respect for her fans and WONT EVER EXPOSE SKIN. Thats why she bitches so much about tweens dressing like her, thats why she looks hungover in all of her interviews, and yes that is why ladys and gentlemen that she was on the conver of an adult mans magazine. Give me a break. But surely this punkish pop princess deserves to be on the same list of the man who discovered insuline...

Oh canada we stand on gard for thee

November, 21, 2004
Its early morning, I am by myself.
I cant sleep, I close my eyes but they shoot back open. I cant make up my mind on what I want to do, so I'll just type aimlessly.
Im trying to get something worthwhile out of my brain but nothing is deciding to come out. I dont want to talk about my day for it really isnt that interesting. Just the same as anyother saturday.
I dont think my dad is coming back at all tonight. Its ten to four. Im still just as awake as I was this morning, maybe even a little more so. Well anyways, I give up nothing of worth comes to my idiot organ. Make sure to check out the new sections.

November, 5 still (fuck I need a life)
Today was like any other day. Went to school and didn't pay attention, handed in half completed work, talked with people who some may call friends, talked with people I consider friends. Smiled at the object of my lust and tried to smile and not kill myself because I'm hurting, caught the bus, went to the library and got a book, went to Andeeas. When I was catching the bus downtown to go for a walk and get coffee I met two people, a girl and her mother. The girl was my age with long brown, a top hat and smelled of menthol ciggarrets and rasberries. Her mother was in her late 30's and was oddly inquisitive about my life. Her voice was of high frequency and hurt my ears. After a long conversation phone numbers between the girl and I were exchanged. The girl doest live with her mother. The Mother buys ciggarettes for the girl.
I got off the bus downtown and within the first two minutes a chinese man was hassling me to let him give me a ride home. I think he thought I was a hooker because I was wearing my fishnets and boots. I rudely declined and walked onward. I took an elongated route to Starbucks where I got a dark roast coffee, no cream or sugar, then sat down and read a bit of Lullaby (thanks for telling me about Chuck P., Graham, the guy is a fucking genius). I got restless so I walked down to the inner harbour only to be hit on by countless men. I got pissed off because I wanted to just be left alone with my coffee and thoughts. But I guess thats too much to ask for when you look like a hooker hey? I guess I deserve to be harrassed for wearing boots and ripped stalkings with cherry red lipstick. Yes... thats me....the 15 year old hooker. So I just whipped out the rest of my smoke and headed back to my dads girlfriends apartment where I read more and wrote more on this webpage.
Im stupid remind me to never ever ever ever speak my mind ever again. Like to other people. Here is the only place I have to balls to say shit.
November, 5, 2004
Survey of new environment- Small... much smaller than I have been used to but small places are much more comforting than large ones. Clean, pleasant to the nose. More convienient surrondings... I win.

Let me make myself loud and clear on something.
IT MAKES ME HURT WHEN YOU TOUCH ME! BECAUSE I WANT YOU SO VERY BADLY! I WOULD ASK YOU TO STOP BUT I LIKE IT, AS WELL AS HATE IT AT THE SAME TIME! OK? DO YOU GET THAT? YOUR FUCKING SEXY AND I ENJOY TALKING TO YOU! DUMP YOUR GIRLFRIEND AND TAKE ME!!!!!! ME I TELL YOU!!!!!!!MEEEEEEEE!!!!

Ok maybe I'm being selfish... but you know who you are. 
Man I am such a bitch sometimes hey? Oh well. I am a selfish bitch and damn fucking proud of it.
Just consider this... What would be easier and more convienient? OR if you really care about her then just stay with the lucky bitch. I just really wish you would have told me you had a girlfriend in the first place, then I would have given up. But I have a false scence of hope that doesnt seem to dissapear. Arnt I annoying? arnt I stupid and pathetic and teenage? Anyways, choose to ignore this, take action, or hate me with a passion, just know that I still mentally undress you everytime you talk to me. Does that creep you out? If it does then good. Thats the effect I was going for.

On another not, not nessicarily a better one, I have planned that I will start to move out the rest of my shit on sunday with the help of Samantha and Lucy. It shall be... grand I guess.
I want to skip school today. I feel ugly and gross, not different from any other day but just more so today.
To let all of you know I hate your guts. You all never email me. So I hate you. DIE! or email me.

Americans are retarted. At least the ones who re-elected Bush. What the fucking hell you fuck ass's? Have fun having your country destroyed by some corrupt cousin fucking hick from texas. Don't come running to Canada when you get yourselves caught in a "Nucler" war.

October, 26, 2004
Days like this make me want to become a lesbian. The thing I hate more than anything are guys who make you feel like A) shit B) nothing or C) fat.

There is my rant for the day. I refuse to fall for anyone ever again. FUCK YOU ALL

October, 24, 2004
I am afraid of commitment. Is that a problem? Because I am not quite sure... A person puts there heart and soul into something, or someone and then they get fucked over somehow whether it's their fault or not. Then that person who gets fucked over tends to just go fucking nuts and then makes the decision to never get sucked into commitment ever again. Then as if on que a situation of lust and maybe something else such as good conversation arises and they don't even want to attempt to make the situation go further, though they entertain the thought for hours in there minds... Just a thought.
I think my writing abilty has been shot to hell along with my brain. I'll sit down and have all these ideas but just can't get them onto paper. Must be the drugs. Fucking drugs. Fucking sexy, mentaly addictive, socialy acceptable substance. Damn fucking drugs.
I have nothing else to say other than the fact that I have no friends, no life and no cloths on once again. Hurrah for nudity. Hope to hear from one of you soon. I'm lonely. and horney.

October, 20, 2004
Ashamed
I am ashamed to be alive
I am ashamed to call myself human,
though I know there is no escaping it.
I am ashamed to be an addict,
To have dependence on something other than the air I breath and the water I drink,
I am ashamed to love,
love is after all the greastest form of weakness besides to crave.
I am ashamed of the annoyance I cause to stir inside of my colleagues,
but I feel the need to release in a form other than scripture and paragraph.
I am ashamed of everything I am,
just as vile as the next person.
I am ashamed to accept then reject,
to waste nurishment.

I want to be empty inside,
I want to be numb,
I want to be submissive and without reaction,
I want to be controlled,
Mindless
I want to be mindless.

I do not pity myself. Not one bit. I hate and hate and hate. I refuse to quit. Because I'm unclean. I'm dirty. I'm soiled. Human. A part of Humanity. How duisgusting. How pathetic. Pathetic pathetic pathetic.
I scrub until I callase, yet I am no cleaner. Everyday I wish to dissapear, nothing will ever change this.
I DO NOT PITY MYSELF....







               FOR I AM AS VILE AS THE NEXT BEING.......








Im fine dont ask
This is no sybolic speach nor any metaphore
What I write here should stay here.
So stop asking me about anything
I am quite because I have nothing to say
I am tired because I don't sleep
I am bitchy because I am accused
And completely and utterly guitly
I dont want help so fuck off....
It you dont want to hear it if it turns you off
Then die
Or leave
Or stop talking to me
Or kill me.
Whatever the fuck
Just shut your fucking mouth your no better.

October, 10, 2004
"Dear Jesus, I am thankful for the useless fucking bible passages you and your god damn followers shove down my innocent naive throat. Please don't send me to hell" - what Jimmy said after father Wellington told him to keep their sexual encounter a secret or God wouldn't love him any more.
Happy Thanksgiving. I hope all of you are eating lots of dead birds or any other deceased animal for that matter. I hope your bellies are filled with stuffing and pumpkin pie. I hope you all get food poisoning falling to the floor, grasping your bellies in agony, thus eventually dieing. I hope when the paramedics arrive (obviously too late) that they find you in a pile of putrid bile scented vomit swirling with little speckles of blood. I hope that no one shows up to your funeral accept for the old man who lives in that little shack down the street, you know the man that used to take nude pictures of you shitting and pissing when you were 9. I hope they play "If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands" at your burial and you can here every pair of hands clapping from here to Taiwan. I hope that you forgot to write a will so all of your assets get sold to people who know nothing about sentiment and your children get cut up by some psycho and stuffed into a freezer. I hope that the same man who cut up your children makes them into soup via blender. I hope you YES YOU have the most glorious fucking Thanksgiving in the whole fucking world! BECAUSE YOU KNOW YOU FUCKING DESERVE IT!

Gee... I think I don't like holidays. But no really have a good ol' family time.
Ever notice when your alone at home you stand in a room for at least five minutes wondering what you should do now that everyone is gone. You stand there contemplating possibility after possibility. Should I throw a party? No I don't like people.......Should I invite someone over to get drunk with me and then rape them? No that would involve some communication and a terrible hangover.... AH HA I will sit on the couch all day eat cheerio's and play guitar.
Because you are just that exciting. Because your friends don't hate you (or are out of town). Because you’re not a lazy ass who didn't feel like getting dressed so you just decide to be naked all day. Because you have better things to do. Yes you have a life. Yes you don't have to resort to updating your rambling web page for the millionth time in the past 2 days.
Ok I'm done. That made me feel slightly better
.......................What's this...............your still reading this piece of shit......? What’s that...? You don't have a life either.... Well that's good.....Wanna have sex?......... no........... Ok.........I think your ugly anyways......

October, 08, 2004
WOMAN TO MAN: "I thought you said your dog doesn't bite"
MAN TO WOMAN: "I know, thats not my dog"You have about 12 hours to forget all that is troubling your mind. This assists you in remaining partially, though not completely, sane. The majority of tasks you frantically scramble to complete during the day are generally what you call your life. Work. Remember we all have to have SOMETHING to show for ourselves. Nessicary active or thinking processes we participate in to take get away from who we are to ourselves. This tends to fool you into thinking your getting off easy, when in reality your going to have to get home brush your teeth, let the dog out to take it's evening defication, brush your teeth and eventually get into bed. Bed means silence. Bed means lonlieness and most of all bed means nothing. Nothing to destract you. Oh dear what are you going to do now? There's nothing to fiddle with, nothing to listen to, no one to hear the pointless things you have to say. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU GOING TO DO? THERES NOTHING TO ACCOMPLISH! NOW I HAVE TO FACE MYSELF AND HOW THINGS MAKE ME FEEL!
Exactly. And your going to have to live with who you are every single minute until you fall asleep (that is if you are able to sleep which in my case would be a no). You may find it bearable, you may find it the most agonizing experience of your life, like it or not it's whats facing you tonight.

Remorse is generally what takes the most time in my case. I could spend hours upon hours obsessing over things I have forgotten to do during the day. Even the smallest most insegnificant of slip ups will have you entertained for hours. This one time a few weeks ago It took me 2 hours to get past the fact that I had forgotten to throw myself in front of 6 buses. I only managed to get 5 to keep on going when I stepped off of the curb, how silly of me (insert high frequency girly giggle here).

Embarrasment is also a great one. When you are but a whiny teenage girl anything and I do mean ANYTHING can embarras you. Maybe your skirt was tucked into your underwear and everyone laughed at you. At the time for some reason you thought everyone would never stop teasing you; even when your 45 with 9 kids and a husband who works in a male strip joint called the Banana Hamock everyone will still refer to you as the chick who doesn't know how to pull her skirt out of her ass. Well chances are they will forget about it the next day. Seeing as your brain has nothing better to do it will replay The Great Underware Tragedy of 2004 over and over and over again. Same goes for long moments of uncomfertable yet orgasmic scilence with an almost stranger on the bus... Actually aside from the stupid things you said when able to manage words, it may be more pleasing than worrysome.

At this point you will glance at your clock and notice its only 3 in the morning... Welcome to the world of insomnia.

Now comes the worst part. Worrying about tomorrow. At this time feel free to turn into a complete heap of obsessive compulsive sleep deprived mess. I don't think my web sever would have enough room to store all the things I worry about concerning the next day. Because weeks bleed into months bleed into years and that leading to the rest of your life marrige, jobs, children all things you dread with a passion and then...

Yellow Card is on the radio again... "why am I listening to yellow card" you will ask yourself...wait its the alarm clock...which means you finally fell asleep smart ass. Wait a second it's time to go run around like a chicken with its head cut off! Its 8:00! I can go out and accomplish, no more thinking.

That was retarted. My writing just gets worse and worse. Its 12:04am. Good morning.

 

October, 1, 2004
"what happens here stays here, say nothing dissapear"- Otep

With you stumbling down the hall I can't sleep. Convincing myself I will dissapear into these knees pulled tight to a slowley decaying body, and she still hasn't noticed, getting to the point of insivibility, her estimate is 18 off, a total loss of 23.  a stranger starts mumbling, whispering things underneath vodka stained breath, a matchstick can hear you through the vent. Suddenly filled with anger, then frustration, then the humanistic side starts to show through. How dare you tug and pull me out of my skin once again.
You head back to your room clumbsily, an offbeat drum starts beating in my head I have ingested stimulants and coffee for the past 3 will still refer to you as that chick who didn't realize her skirt was tucked into her pantyhosedays, so I start to hear things. Running water hisses at my ears chews at my cheeks, my toes go numb from the infantile snake teething on them, then second camera takes over and I watch myself, and the drunken women in the room next to me. I am supposed to be asleep so I say nothing. I say nothing like I always do.
Scences come back temperarly and I realise Iv'e been listening to her on her drunken binge for about an hour and a half. An hour and a half and 4 drinks. Cupboards in the kitchen slam, windows squeek, why is she cleaning the windows its 1:00 in the morning, more alchohol, freezer opens, clink of icecubes, clunk clunk back down the hall again. I start to drown myself now. This seems highly absurd, I had retained welling of eyes for so long and now its back. I strain to make it stop. shut up you stupid girl. Your so fucking teenage.
T.V in her room goes on, its obscenly loud. I just sit there, dark sweeping over everything but myself and the bed I hardly ever sleep in anymore. I listen to her stumble to the bathroom. Toilet flushes. More stomping. Then quite. 2:45, flickering but still awake, shhh this is our little secret.

September, 2, 2004
These are some things I wrote when I had 0 sleep and too much caffine.

August, 30, 2004
I am a tar pit, a gravel pit, any possible type of pit you could imagine. I don't want to be like you. To be bottemless... I would like to think with my brain not my extremitys... but I can't. I can't get past this thought of excess. I am not capable of attaining a permanent fill through fuel alone. I'll spit this juice back into a cup and carry on. This will complete me eventually this will me my bread. Emptyness is associated with failure and a scence of hopelessness. I don't think I could wake up everyday and look myself in the mirror and think "I will greed and greed all day and then I will be filled". I'll live with anything but that. As long as I have some number to flant in my own brain all day. When if ever should I give up? Will I always be colapsed in front of the mirror, A pit of constant starvation?

Where were you when I threw away the cerebral scrapbooks I kept of us? I have half a mind that I can use to push the detenation button. As the ink bleeds across my page of poems I wrote in hopes of someday becoming more than a rat, You'll down tune yourself out of site, go into some form of extreme hybernation. So who has fallen off there rocker now? I am one braincell short of the dozen I had left. No more can I lend my heart to you, for that organ punps contaminated blood. I still want you safe, I still want you under my wing, held away from the edge of the nest, I don't want you to come down from the pedistal on which I held you upon for so very long. As far as I'm concerned my shortcomings outnumber yours 2 to 1. Not far off from equality are we? Don't answer that though because you know I'm right and I know I am too. Hush darling, for I will win this battle. Your game my victory because fair is fare. I'm "Hollow like the O in god". Stop being my I.V I must be weened from my tube fed tendencies.

August, 14, 2004
Im a horrible dirty whore and I deserve to die, I am so very ugly. WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHOREWHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE

July, 23, 2004
Don't say your going to call me and don't. Don't say you never got my messages. Don't ask me if I missed you. Don't tell me that you give a flying fuck. Don't even look at me anymore. Just tell me to leave and I will. Just two words...Fuck off and I will. DOn't beat a dead horse. I am not one of your fuck puppets, I am not one of your play things, I am machine and I can shut you out. Give me the word and I will obey. I'm tierd of running in circles, drunk with the dizzies. I missed you, I called, I cared, I loved, I trusted, I touched but I never will again. Fuck you... yes...Fuck you you basturd. I hope you never think of me again because this is it. I am never going to phone you again, I am never going to see you again, I wonteven write you. This is it. Im not even going to say goodbye. I never met you and I never will. Sir it was a pleasure talking with you. Never think of me again because we don't know each other.

July, 19, 2004

I didn't really accomplish anything today as usual (accept for warping my mind compliments of the google image gallery). Oh well thats what the summer is for. So I have discovered a couple things since the last time I posted anything here.
1) Don't leave handcuffs out in your room, your parents will find them and think you are having hot kinky sex with your friends, even if you do just hook them onto your belt so people think your scary.
2) Get rid of old pill bottles, this goes for really old ones too from last year
3) Don't post anything about your personal life on the internet, most likely your friends will find it and use it against you or get pissed off at you or know what you really think about them.
4) The percentage of teens who are against pre-marital sex has increased (you sure could have fooled me).
5) Hookers and homless people are very nice sometimes.
6) The kids who hang out in front of chapters are cool.
7) Taking a drag of a smoke is 3 puffs
8) I've been smoking all wrong
9) Acid is dirty 
10) The Distillers are good
11) Brodys hot
12) Bryce isn't as hot anymore
13) Fishnets are hot but rip easily
14) I need more weed
15) I am not doing hard drugs next year
16) Lists get really boring after a while
17) Gory pictures, when looked at frequently get funny after a while.

So I am off to go learn some Distillers songs. Fuck all of you.

July, 04, 2004
"They'll never be good to you, bad to you, they'll never be anything, anything at all"- Marilyn Manson

Make way for the monster, the main stage in lifes three ring circus. I feel duisgustingly guilty, like I have confessed my greatest sins to my own mother. Although that is not far from the truth. Those secret chemical feastings that have taken place over a long period of time have finally been found out. Ever notice that when something is wrong with you and it effects someone else's material wealth you just get blamed for it, you get punished looked down upon and ridiculed. That has taken place. Step right up to catch a glimpse of the sober freak. Do you remember what happened last time? Well how could you remember when you never even knew. That was a nice corner of my life, I gained so much material wealth and lost so much self respect. Yes in the end, in the end I was left with nothing as I drowned myself deeper into a bottemless dunk tank at this sick and twisted carnival. Step right up get your shot at the razor whore on the platform leading into this pool of darkness.

June, 25, 2004
   Before I said I was dead, metaphorically speaking that is, but now I am 100% sure there is absoulutley no life left in me.
Here is the plan:

I Kelly have decided to NEVER have any feelings of remorse, love, hatred, sadness, or happieness and I will be a zombie for the rest of my life. Well of course, I will "feel" these, but I will not show them directly to anyone.

My reason for this is: 

When you feel you get hurt and you become a nervous wreck. I came to a breakthrough conclusion 5 minutes ago that life is not worth living but I am far to pussy to kill myself, so therefore it is in my best interest to just have no personality and/or feelings (no personality because feelings towards things make up a persons personality or at least I think they do). Enter the previously mentioned term Zombie.

So there you have it, the plan is reborn. Now many of you will deem me an asswipe in the following weeks but I am not. In fact I am just living a smarter more healthier for my emotional side lifestylish thingy...yah... like I said give me large quantities of alchohol and I may change my mind. If not then fuck  you and see you in hell.

June, 24, 2004
   Right now I am about half way through sleep. I have not written this out on paper yet (unlike all the other postings here) I am winging it. I am way way above earth in fact I'm somewhere near the sun, or maybe the moon, either would be a happy destination for the lonely sky sailor. I am not alone though which is funny. I have something alot of people never find, that is true love. No not a stupid teenage crush, not and idiodical mishap, nothing like Shane. No this is actually the real thing. This is love being returned, and it is the most amazing of experiences. It is now the only thing that is shouting at me reasons to remain human and alive. I can tell you now, if it wasn't for the person I am in love with now I would have killed myself. Yes I would have taken the razor and cut vertical instead of horizontal. You would all have already attended my funeral. But this isn't the case. No I am very much alive and drunk. I am incredably pissed in fact. I have just draken a micky and am still coherent amazingly, I can still function and type! I am amazing. My main point was, none of you should worry about me because I am fine and have always been fine. Maybe the only problem I have is with alchohol. I drink far too much. I don't think it affects that much though. I am way more happy drunk than sober, and everyone is always asking me if I can just be happy for once. Well the answer is yes, yes I can be happy, just give me a large quantitie of alchohol and I will dance AND smile for you. WOW 2 FOR 1! Ladies and Gentlemen you better take advantage of this one. Oh wait! You wont be able to... Yes by the time you read this I will already be sober. So...so much for that one. I feel so polished and new. Like I havent commited any horrible deeds. Like I am not an infectious parisite. Yes if I could stay like this forever I would be wearing tight pink shirts and blue eyeshadow. But I am not, and that is why Kelly has formed.

June, 20, 2004
Excert from Blood Work #9:

This euphoric numbness, the sweet serenity of flight. I feel this is the only time I can concure with the permanent situation. Like this I say all that is an offering of peace, all that is an offering of well-being. In this state I don't mind the blame, burden and bickering, The cruel wavelengths exchanged. In fact I comply, I comply with all matters. I forget about the darkened nagging scars on my arms, ankles and legs. Their cheerful pink color. How ironic, how very ironic this is, that the color of broken flesh symbolizes love, happieness and devotion. Something we all long for, Deep down we all crave the attention pain has devoted to us. The sickness of self abuse becomes my full time cold comfort lover. FUCK EMBRACES, FUCK LOVERS, FUCK SEX! I have a bottle of anistetic smiles, and I have a razor blade. Both now are my world, both are my life! At Lucifers command, Satans indulgence, THE UNCATHOLIC, THE UNCHRISTIAN! The belief of substance, something real, something factual, something belivable, something all too real, SO MANY OF YOU WILL SLEEP SOBER TONIGHT! WHY? WHEN IF EVER WILL YOU DISCOVER...
This is not a short coming, it is a shortcut. A profitable accident. I become so vain enclosed in my brain.

 

Tuesday, June 08, 2004
  You know what I love, When something seems so perfect yet, There is a very slim chance it is possible or even slightly logical for that matter and you still belive it will happen. I'm not being sarcastic. I'm serious.

   With that little thought aside I will continue with where my thoughts had left off in english class when my hands still smelt like fish guts from the science disection in G block. I was writing down something about how many people are like fish heads and fish guts, they are just a waist, yet they seem to have some use to themselves in there eyes.  So there you have it. There is a similie that isn't too cliche: PEOPLE ARE LIKE FISH HEADS AND FISH GUTS. Not very poetic. But still not stupid like: LIFE IS LIKE CHERRYS, IT TASTES YUMMY.

Monday, May 31, 2004
A little thought

   I have taken to the task of making something better. I am not sure whether it is myself or someone/something else. I have realized that to stop caring is to give up all characteristics of being human. The word human is the only stereotypical category every single person in the world fits into. I used to take it as an insult, but now it is a relief to hear someone call me a stupid human. Take the phrase "We are only human" for example. This has a both a pleasing and displeasing meaning. For instance, every human can feel the emotion love. To be in love is a wondrously electrifying experience that everyone, despite, whatever the circumstances, feels some form of be it romanticly or friendly. But the displeasing factor is the ugly emotions and deep dark thoughts we have. Those instances we burst out "I am going to kill so and so" when really we all know we would never do such a thing. We never take into account what slips out of our mouths. In fact that phrase "I'm going to kill someone" has become much of a figure of speech. A very grotesque figure of speech.

 

 

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ROTTING IN MY HEAD