so i was talking to eli about underground houses. and i said i would dig myself one.
and he said that he hates digging, that he would rather do any physical labor but digging. and i said not me, i'm a digger.
and he said, that's because you're mexican.
and that was the best thing he has ever said to me.

blah blah blah i'm lame and depressed
blah blah blah i've gotta go pee
blah blah look at the airplanes go by blah blah i'm cooler than you blah blah pills pills breathe in breathe out blah blah blah

what a boring pile of shit!

i
wish i could go
so far away
where time moves too slow
day after day

and i'll wait
and i'll sit an watch the clouds as they go by.

i have a sensation with laziness
procrastination is what i do best

where has my ambition gone?
i haven't seen it for so long.
am i a burden to someone?

life...
i am so tired
of everything
all my desire
is vanishing

ill wait.. and i'll sit and watch the clouds as they go by.

i....talk....so much shit.
fuckin
i talk way too much
much ado about nothing.
much SHIT
much of me wanting to drink a little something
smiling like this
yes
talk about your o face
O!
hahahahahHAHHAHAh
oh man oh man
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIii
wish i were a drunk one right now
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
am so not a drunk one right now
IIIIIIIIIIIII
am making up a song that suck cock
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
am wishing for a red dog, red bull, red....house?
AHGH AHHAAAHAH
i
miss carla
i miss kj
i wish i weren't fucking retarded.
pshhhhaww

the shit you stepped on in the fucking woods!!!!!!

if only I could follow the yellow brick road!
so i watched the supposed suicide on the wizard of oz. and it's fucking stork or...crane or something. it is SO not a fucking suicidal munchkin/stagehand.
BULL FUCKING SHIT!
i hate everything!!!
and Fuck cranes!
and Fuck carrots!!!



i love kj and i shall tell you why:
because he noteices the guys in cosmo with big boobs.
because our arms belong around eachother.
and who even knows how many times we've sighed at the same time in our lifetime.
because i don't even have to sit like a lady.
because jellyfish hide in his eyes.
because most people hate how i wander from topic to topic and he doesn't.
i love him because he inspires me.
when i'm standing on the top of my hill and smoking a cigar and staring at the sky, i'm thinking about him.
when i'm standing on my roof with a beer in my hand, i'm thinking about him.
he makes me try to be a better person.
he makes me want to polish my nails, or at the very least, look in the mirror before i leave the house!

because i can act like a total dork (and by that i mean act like myself) and...he won't completely reject me.
it's scary though because...fuck, i reject myself! and it's kind of unfair that he loves me but i don't. i should...fix that one.
i would...
if i only had a brain.
hahahhahah

i'm sorry i'm so jealous.
i'm sorry i'm even jealous of apricots.
he makes me wish i could explain myself without sounding like a retard.
KJ!
not any guy, just him.
josh and adam and cat and all the wizards of oz's ever, even clint eastwood don't uh....hold a candle to him. Fuck i hate that phrase...

i love kj because he's so skinny and because he has sideburns and because he wears black and because he wears sunglasses and because he's blonde! because his name is kenneth james and because he used to go bee hunding
and he asked what if i'm his soul mate
and...ridiculous but in my head i say of course i am.
because he plays guitar
because i asked him not to tell me how zippers work and so he didn't.
because he doesn't hate me. and i go woah! because i'm afraid of that. after all, that's perfect for regret. going "idiot, cecilia, you thought he loved you!" but...i do. think so, that is.
and he makes me wonder about angels.
because i wished to someone.
over bridges and through the woods, right?
all: these are the qualities i want my flapjack to have, to the point. just like on practical magic. and what does that mean, i have NO IDEA!
anyway i'm waiting 2009 to discover
i love how he's the gunslinger. i love how he lets me be me.
i love how he buys food like i want that and that and one of those.
i love how he twirls me
i love how i said to shannon I'm likin your hair, and she said to me I'm likin your pants, and kj said to her, i'm likin your cousin and we kissed madly because it was so appropriate.
i love how he's the only guy i've had sex with sober.
even if we were in the bushes.
i ove how we ate bananas campagne wedding style
i love him because he's got it going on and because i get shivers all through me when he does anything ever.
because....honestly?
shhh, tell no one.
it turns me on when he dry humps my knee.
and i love him because he sang the goldfish song while he was blowing his nose on his PE shirt. and that still cracks me up EVERY time i think about it. like...i'm laughing right now.
heckah.
because he's bipolar.
because i'd rather hold him while he cries than talk to Tim fuckin Burton. because i'd rather go see Norma Jean with kj than go see NOFX with someone else. really. and that says a FUCKING lot.

he makes me feel like i'm normal and not some horrible whackass.
like i'm in love with the best guy in the world.
like i could paint a picture.
like i can smile the second i wake up because i'm singing MY COCK CAN WALK RIGHT THROUGH THE DOOR
and because he reminds me of something......
flapjack.
sometimes....
sometimes i wish he could hate me because i really do deserve pain and misery and heartache for the things i do and the words i say and the way i am.
meaning, id never sleep with some other guy to fuck with his head.
meaning i'm sorry
but i'm fucked up the way i'm fucked up.
i'd tell someone something to break my heart
to make you hate me.
roxxy understands.
to make him prove me wrong.
because i'm a stupid girl
because i'm a silly goose
i wish i weren't fucked up.

i love him because Nobody has ever been this important to me.
i love him so much i'm going to get a job.
which also says a lot.
i love him because he'll tell me the truth
because i am white, remember?

i just want to make him happy.


but i seriously think about him way too much
hahahahahah
i'm going to eat some tostadas!!!

i am proud to say that, with the help of about 8 different websites, i have found out how zippers work. and not only how zippers work, but what the first zippers looked like! (and they were called Automatic, Continuous Clothing Closures, and later were called Clasp Lockers, and then became the Seperable Fastener, and finally the Zipper.)
I also found out why they all say YKK. The YKK means Yoshida Kogyo Kabushikikaisha. Which means Yoshida Industries Limited once you translate it. which, i think, is kind of ironic, because all our zippers say YKK America. This leads me to a new question: what the hell asshole American stole YKK from the Japanese?!

gemini

theres a class in here now so i have to leave elftown.
=(

i am sad and sore throaty
i wish i didn't have school responsibilities
i wish i didn't have to go pee right now
i wish i didn't have to nourish my body
i wish i weren't here.

i'm insane
you're insanne
he's insane
she's insane
they're insane
we're all insane

i would so round up your unwanted children and sic 'em on you

doo dee doo dee dooooooooOOOoooOoOOooOOoooOOooooo

well i was PREMATUUUA!!!

muahahaaha
enough, cecilia

this morning is a wretched morning.
right now i'm "library aiding"....hahaha. like i'm ever doing that, really.
i keep sneezing into my scarf.
=(
i'm sick, really.
and dammit, i really did mean not to kiss kj, because now he's going to get sick too...but did i really think that was going to work out, me not kissing him? ha..

i said to my mom i am not remo! and i'm not mark! and i'm not angie!
and she went ang- ceci, you're


because when i went downstairs with my eyes covered in black she was all Don't wear that to school, you obviously just want attention.
and so i started eating my breakfast and said i can't take it off now because then it would look like i have a black eye.
then we got in the car and she said how we all do everything just to spite her.
we do everything just to make her feel bad.
we don't care about her and we don't care what feelings she has.
and she was crying and yelling at me.
about how mark and remo don't respect her and how i might as well not come home because i'm just pushing the knife in deeper.
and she said we might as well just stab her
and she said go somewhere else, don't come home, i'll just be dead anyway.
and i got out of the car and the people at my busstop expected me to be happy as usual but i walked to the top of the hill with the sign and dangled my feet off the rock. i didn't come down until the bus was going to get there soon.

i feel like shit.
i feel like vomiting.
my throat hurts and i can't talk right.
i don't want to go home.
i don't have anywhere else to go.
i don't know what to say.
i don't want to go home and hear her apologies.
i want to go somewhere and chug a bottle of something.
a bottle of beer or a bottle of jack daniels or a bottle of robittusin or a bottle of pills or a bottle of jones soda.
whatever.
it doesn't matter about that.
nothing like that matters.

it doesn't matter that i'm going in my head
i'll never go back there
i'll never go back there
i'll never go back there
because won't i be there?
i'd rather stay at school all night.
but...i don't have any clothes.
*bites lip.
i....
didn't take notes for econ.
i'm not taking notes right now but i should be.

i'm in danger of not graduating because i'm failing english.

my mom doesn't accept me because she doesn't understand me because she doesn't talk to me. and i don't talk to her either. because she just talks about really stupid shit, and she hates that we don't care. but i honestly don't care.

same as when kj said i'll probably keep drinking until it does kill me.
and i said why
and he said you tell me.
and it sucks, you know, but...i don't....CARE enough to better this situation.
my mom really...
she seems all suicidal and junk
and i want her to stop
because she's fucking me up too
and i'm selfish
SELFISH, I



cecilia rosanne berry is a drug-addicted fool
and you're in love with her?

that is what i do not understand

i am coughing so hard right now.
i wonder why you put up with me.
i wonder...

my name is cecilia rosanne berry and i have sickness in me.
i have homework to do but i opt to take a nap.

i wonder what you want with me.
i want to tell you i have nothing to offer.
but i'm too selfish to let you know so i'll be quiet as a mouse.
which works out because i have a cold so talking hurts anyway.

mouses with houses and spouses.
ahhahahaha

i am a total lie.
my mom is depressed.
and she drives away when she's angry.
and mark goes, How am i getting to work?
then she returns and acts like nothing happened, but expects that we have completely learned some lesson.
i can't say for sure about remo and mark and victoria, but i haven't. i mean...what happens at my house every day doesn't make sense.
i get picked up.
i get driven home.
i rarely talk about anything on the way home. sometimes i talk about what happened in some class or other, or i mention something someone said that i though was funny (its a nickelback not a quarterback!!) or something about the scenery....
she talks about things that are going on at the nature center... er...she USED to do that. she doesn't talk about that as much anymore. and she hasn't gone there in a really long time either, even though they're offering to pay her now. she mentioned something about...water...testing again i think, when driving kj home.
she talks about how she used to eat jalepenos.
she goes "so what time do you have an appointment"
she says "there's _________. come and eat" burritos, tamales, fideo, rice, turkey soup...zuccini bread and other weird concoctions...
like victoria said, she's living in a house where everyone thinks she's annoying, and no one really likes her.
but like mark said, it's not like that. she's the one that is focusing on the negative side...
she says its because of my dad. and i guess that's true for her, but the same way his depression makes her sad...i mean she kind of passes the torch too, right?
we were talking about quotes two days ago.
and when she picked me up from the bus stop today she said "i was thinking about what you asked me"
like we were JUST talking about it.
i don't know if you've noticed, but my thoughts go so fucking fast. and since hers go so fucking slow... we are SO OFF...i really wish we weren't.
today she went in my room for...i guess for dirty dishes, which is stupid anyway because she asked if i had any and i was all nope but she just thought she'd go in my room and check...anyway she sees this pile of pomegranete stuff on the floor and starts yelling about how... Don't you KNOW pomegranetes leave STAINS on the CARPET!?
and i was like....oh that was this morning, i was rushing. sorry.
and she was like Well it only takes a second to throw something away
and i was like Yeah well my trash can is full of stuff because...
and shes like WELL YOU SHOULD TAKE OUT THE TRASH
and i continued like:because you threw stuff away that wasn't really trash so i didn't know where you were going with that and i decided that if the trash can was now a stuff can i couldn't put trash in it and it was the morning anyway and i was rushing.
and she was like !I was talking about the carpet. you cant leave pomegranete just laying around because the carpet gets stained. why don't you PICK UP your things?
and i was all: Oh. did the pomegranete stain it?
and she said "...."
and i said in my head, did you even check if it stained the carpet?
then i go in my room and the carpet is fine. and of course i knew it would be because ...well i'm a slob, you think i've never left pomegranete lying on my floor before!??

anyway... so i asked her why she threw stuff away that wasn't trash anyway. and she said she did it when she was cleaning my room. and i sort of looked at her for a few seconds...after all, she does that a lot when i'm at school.
it really is ridiculous.
so i asked her why she always says i should clean my room then she ends up doing it (and often while i'm NOT EVEN THERE!!! what the fuck!? i wish....grrrrr >_<)
anyfuckinway
she says well you have to learn!
and she was getting that urgacny in her voice again
and i looked her in the eyes and said that you can give a man a fish and he'll eat for a day but if you teach a man to fish he can eat for the rest of his life.
because we had been talking about quotes before...get it?

then she yelled at remo for...something about doctors appointments...
because she got all worked up about something and we all just rolled our eyes.
all of our eyes were rolling
that's 6 eyes.
i bet it feels really bad when 6 eyes are rolling because of you.
...
....
then, she said she's picking up a mazda from jrs house and mark said...what mazda and she said jr has a mazda and he said don't you mean the mitzubishi and she started yelling at him about something sort of mini-relevent but not really...
and i said whatever they both start with an M, and i put my head down on the bed.
and more words went on...but i didn't really hear the words it was more like the tones.
they were irritated and argumentative.
then she said something that sort of meant inconsiderate but it wasn't inconsiderate...it wasn't ungrateful either...
i don't know but it meant that, but she stopped in the middle of the word because she wasn't sure it was the right word.
then she said I...and walked out slammed the door and got in the car and drove away.
which is kind of funny because she always says we shouldn't slam doors when we're upset.
but it was kind of sad because... i'm the one that always corrects her when she says the wrong word, or uses a word in the wrong context, or says the wrong pronoun and crap like that.
and i'm the one that's the youngest and, if you think about it, the quickest to grow up.
well...that's not true, what about angela?
angie had to grow up fast too, didn't she.
she was, what?, 16 when she had mark?
god damn.
i don't even know angela, and that's my sister. i should know everything about her. i should...i wish i had a sister the way so many other people do. like someone to borrow clothes from, someone to get pissed off at when they borrow my clothes.
someone to yell at as the take up all the fucking time in the bathroom.
someone to cry with when their boyfriend breaks up with them or whatever. to flip off my mom behind closed doors. and...i wish i'd had a sister to hold my hair back when i puked...
maybe then i wouldn't have cut it off.


gemini.


i found out rather recently that i really like run on sentences and i really like fragment sentences and every teacher that marks a good fragment sentence wrong can go to fucking hell.




like i was saying,
the problem is that everything in my house...has nothing to do with now.
i have no idea when we are.
i know where i am.
i am november 9th 2005, the days of the gunslinger and the days of mr. hendrix patting my back and the day of the sunshine girl with strawberry hair getting back my two dollar bill for me.
but...i don't know.
mark is on a day.
remo and victoria don't care about days. they have doctors appointments so the days matter, but they don't matter matter.
dates are completely different for my mom.
she has to say them over and over and write them down just so she can remember what's going on on them.
and it's stupid because she's trying to remember EVERYTHING for EVERYONE. and if someone comes home late (if Stephanie comes home late, or if her and mark are going out) she has to know whats going on when they'll be back, what they're doing, do they have enough gas, do they have enough money, do they have enough time, do they have enough food in their stomachs?
and its FUCKING ridiculous.
if they didn't have enough gas they wouldn't be going.
if they didn't have enough food they'd make some before they left.
if they didn't have enough money they would be sitting in front of the TV complaining about how they don't have any money.
and its worse when they come back late becasue she goes on about WHERE WERE YOU!? but its not even where were you, that's not the point of the question.
the point isn't: I was worried.
the point isn't i'm upset you didn't call
the point isn't call next time
the point is to yell about all that and 6 more things about being dead in a ditch.
then i slink off because i think its bullshit.
it's bullshit that they could have been dead in a ditch becase yes, they COULD HAVE BEEN, but if they're standing right before you, what does it matter anymore.
you can say, hey call next time.
you can say you worried me
but you cant just yell and yell about nothing over and over again

i feel this way about shakespeare too.


and when i go off to the lake with roxanne and she comes down the hill looking for me i feel hella retarded because...we do shit the way we do shit.
when honestly it's she who shouldn't be out walking in the fucking hills and mountain lion territory.
would she do any better against a rattlesnake than i?

so we tried calling her on the cell phone but she didn't pick up.
so we gave up and a bit later i went downstairs singing and decided to crack open the cooking sherry and there she was sitting at the table reading a newspaper.
i asked where she goes and she said it wasn't important.
i forgot to mention how she shouldn't do that because people get in crashes when they're upset because they're upset and aren't paying attention.
i get the feeling she just went right down to the bottom of the road and ranted and cried for a bit.
i do that, too.


there's something wrong with my left foot.
it gets all cramped up all the time
and it's been going numb in the middle of classes for the past few weeks.
noticibly since i took all those sleeping pills. it's asleep right now =(
and it cramped up in the weirdest way ever.
my toes were stuck in this whackass position and it felt the way that muscle stimulater thingie felt
except worse because it wouldn't stop
it was like i was flexing muscles that weren't meant to be used, in a way they weren't supposed to be used, for an extra long time.
like tears in eyes pain.
yeeowch.
and we watched family guy, the stewie movie thing. it was all right.













i guess what i'm trying to say..
my point is that my family confuses me.
the way the people in my family deal with their problems and their duties makes me wrinkle my eyebrows.
sometimes the way i do things makes me do that too, but... with them it's...(80 bajillion times) worse.

kj makes sense i think.
victoria said that if she were a boy she wouldn't go out with me.
i told her i was pointing at joshs sweater and going see? see? see? see? see? and kj said i'm like a pokemon
and she asked what we do at that wretched school and i told her how i scream at the rain and how i run over to some girls pants and tell her i love them
and i said i wonder why kj sticks with me
and she said i do too.
and she caught my eyes and said i seriously wonder too.
and i said ... me too.
and she said if i were a boy i wouldn't go out with you. you're too weird. then she said, and if i were a girl...well i am a girl... but i would NEVER go out with kj.
and that made me feel a little better that she wouldn't go out with him either...because that makes her wrong.
get that? see how that works? i get it, it's like big metal things squishing the plastic into little toy soldiers.
or...not so, but you catch my drift.

anyway, that made me kind of sad because...victoria knows many things. and she doesn't know why kj would even hang out with me. then again...she was saying, more like, she wouldn't if she were a guy. which could probably also mean she wouldnt if it weren't for remo and...carla
but...

i don't know that kind of makes me sad.



i don't think any of us really like rejection...


i don't know why we reject eachother.
i don't know why we reject ourselves.
i don't know why we reject our feelings.
i don't know why my mom didn't fucking divorce him and take the kids a long time ago.
now she's just screwed.
if she would have left this fucker before we even moved to cool, she would have found some guy in san jose while she was still sane, you know? maybe then we would have a..father at least. and maybe we would get the whole social scene and maybe i would understand what it means to get and A on your paper and maybe i wouldn't look at the sky and think tornado and maybe i wouldn't look at the rain and think roses.

what did kj say...? what was i talking about on the rock?
something about...
something...
i want them to be fucked up? people? what was i saying. it doesn't matter because that was the past.

like on lion king where he hits him on the head with the stick. and simba goes what'd you do that for?
and rafiki goes it doesn't matter its in the past, now you can either run from it, or learn from it.
and he tries to hit him again and simba ducks.
then he takes his stick and they run off to save the pride lands.

i don't know why she does the shit she does.
she's taking out the trash right now.
i'm sitting right here.
she could go CECILIA TAKE OUT THE FUCKING TRASH.

and i can't even say she's been a bad mother because i would feel so rotten.
i already feel rotten.
i feel like puking.
...
my stomach feels like its rotting away. like theres acid and poison inside
and i ate some food, but it still hurts pretty bad.
i wish i could get my stomach scraped out.
i wish i could sell my tv and buy a new one.
i wish i could get rid of everything that is just a want and not a need.
i wish i could live with being uncomfortable.

she isn't a good adviser.
i'll leave it at that.
she lectures.
she yells.
she cleans.
she cooks.
she tells us to keep our secrets to ourselves.
if you think about it, she expects us to talk about things, but when mark tells the truth she doesn't. she expects me to be honest to everyone, but when she wants to know something she takes me out to another room and whispers abou it.
i put up with that crap for a long time but for the past 2 years i've been telling her i don't think that's important.
she'll tell some secret or other and say don't tell and i'll say i wasn't going to anyway and i don't even know why you tell me.
i used to just tune her out.
then i started telling her i wasn't going to say anything anyway
then i started just telling her i don't care
now i look at her like she's a dumbass and let her talk.
i hate when i give her that look.
i can feel it when i do it, because it only comes when i'm looking at her.
when there's some dumbass kid at school talking about something i don't really understand or care about, i patiently talk to them and try to get what their saying, to get past whatever is blocking our communication. and usually i get it, then i find out that i cared after all, and i learn something an di love it, so i go talk to all these random kids at school.
but with my mom its...its like we've done the same thing every single day.
the same things are on her mind.
she yells about the same things.
her replies are the same.
the things she does when she's cold are the same.
the things she does when she drops an egg are the same.
the things she says when she forgets something at the house and we're already down the driveway are the same.
and i can say something to her to try to get her to understand
and in 20 minutes she's doing the same thing.

you're not supposed to give up on people, cecilia, shit on channel 31 tells you that all the time. not john edwards, but that whackass pet rescue show.

but she really hasn't changed. maybe it's just that i'm doing what i'm doing, that is, trying new things all the time.
she's stuck on one thing so i should do the same attempt over and over until one day she's smiling.
until one day when she drops the egg she goes uh oh! and cleans it up instead of ...starting to yell in spanish while calling herself an idiot.

i...can't repeat the same thing over and over like that.

some people had to walk 3 hours in the snow.
fuck.
i'd give up and take a nap. then i'd be dead for hours in the snow.
then i'd be frozen, right?
then in hella hella years some scientist would be like Wow this was a person who was living and breathing in 2005 and they'd dwell on it for centruies when really i was just some fucking slacker that felt like taking a nap in the snow.
i want to fucking pull my hair out.
i want to fucking grow my hair out
i want to fucking howl at the moon.
i want to growl at a wolf that's mean and hungry.
i want to stand in front of you and try to make you understand I Am Fucked Up
what's ironic is that i'm too fucked up to show anyone just how fucked up i am so instead i write about it and put it out on the internet or in a journal that nobody will ever read except me anyway.i mean, really? i don't even read the crap i write on here.
...sometimes when i'm feeling really fucked up, i'll read it to see if i were ever more fucked up.
that usually helps hahhaha
which
completely answers my question about Why do we care so much about history to write it down
we want to know what we thought was important and i want to know whether i was more fucked up then or now.
i'm starting to see that i'm kind of...consistently fucked up.
ha...haha.


whatever.
basically, i just want to be accepted.
i want things to be fair, which they never will be.
i want the people around me to be happy.
i want to live in a place where the people i live with talk about things that make sense.
i don't want to go around in circles.
which is funny because...that's what we do.
i wonder sometimes if the sun ever looks at the earth and goes what the fuck are you doing.
like does it bother the sun to be the center of the galaxy? everythings revolving in circles and revolving around you and there are things revolving around them...
it's a lot of circles.
everything is a whole crapload of circles.
and i act like that's profound, because it is to me.
but really i'm just a stupid kid in U.S.A. with drinking problems and free education.
and that is why i laugh at hamlet.
and that is why i laugh at mr chollet
and that is why i laugh at everything because we are all on person making up one people and trying to put a label on it.
STUPID STUPID STUPID
i could stamp it on everything.
but since everything is ironic i could get a stamp that says MOST IMPORTANT THING EVER and put it on everything, too.

don't you hit that deer, mom.

i'm really sick and my voice sounds really gross and odd. but its weird because i love when other people sound like that.
but remo was talking about premature marijuana and i just screamed "I WAS PREMATURE!!"
i mean, i wasn't premature, but i still screamed it.
and i did it because it sounded really good with my voice all fucked up and it was like YEAH, I WAS PREMAATYUUUAA!!
even though..when you scream crap like that it doesn't even count when you try to spell it out.
i hope i didn't get kj sick =(
but i probably did because...he's all immune system weak and we're always kissing and i take too much cough medicine and start to get sick and sort of forget about the fact that i'm starting to get sick until i'm already sick, then my little bit of sick goes around and infects all the people that i make out with in the halls.
i love my boots.
i love drugstore cowboy
i love mark twain
and i love the bra that i'm wearing right now.
i kind of want to scream myself to sleep outside.
then i'd be even sicker.
and i could say YEAH, I WAS PREMAATYUUUAA!! whenever i wanted to because i'd always be sick because i'd be from nicaragua.
yeah right





thats the one thing you can't change: you can't change where you're from.

man i feel like puking
i will puke all over you
you being me.
god oh god oh god oh
uhhhhhhhhh
yeah thats about it

i feel like puking.
bleckkkkk
    > o
    -

whenever i say that
i go 'i might as well make it worthwile'

boy oh boy!!!
i'm....thinking about yesterday night. like 3 am yesterday/this morning.
my dad was seriously fall-over-drunk
and he was talking about how mark is martin luther king
and he was talking about rocket launchers + george bush
and he was talking about jostons
and he was talking about his father
william henry berry
i never ever ever ever knew that his name was william henry berry
or that he died with 1600 dollars and 1500 went to the funeral and the rest was supposed to be split up between like 8 kids.
and that my grandma (whos name was apparently mary, not helen after all...) said well your wife is a mexican but i love your kids anyway.
that if the berry family way had won we'd have slaves.
and i watched my father stumble and then mark brought home the miller i'd been so desperately waiting for. i hopped off "to bed" and left mark to deal with my drunken father while i dealt with my drunken self.
white trash bastard.
and me a mutt.
i wish i could stand on top of the roof and look down at thousands of swarming zombies and.
i wish that i could stand before them instead and open my arms
so they can tear me apart
glen and me watched dawn of the dead today by the way as if it matters to anyone in the universe anyway.
why do we...put things down?
why did shakespeare write hamlet?
why are we trying to keep ourselves forever.
why did we create photographs and video cameras.
ways to keep it.......
which isnt keeping it real
like i said in drug-frenzy number 17 in the woods with vomit and horror and KEEP IT REAL when that's impossibly when i never would have remembered if not for the video camera anyway.
wretched.
get thee to a nunnery
...
wait...i mean

....the gas station.
DXM awaits, young child,
i so wish i had a way to get there,
i could hitchhike, but i don't have any money either.
i have scotch whisky
i could pull that off
but i won't.
i'll sit down and stare at my econ book and sob about all the homework i have.
when i could be "using my time wisely"
like victoria and kayla and amanda berkey and ryan and everyone that would have been there instead of here or here instead of there.
while i'm here watching waynes world for the first time ever
because

it is all about the music cecilia so listen to some billy joel!!!!!

i firgured it out
i focus being "fucked up"
so that i don't have to tolerate everything you have to tolerate. everything we should have to tolerate. People being fucked up. life being fucked up. taxes and rent and how mr hendrix doesn't even know how the class of 2006 is going to pay for their houses. our houses. Houses that how will I afford?
what am i saying anyways?
something about carla
and meaning
and honesty.
how can i disguise my own self
with pills
and beer

The factory mass producing fear, bottled, capped
distributed near and far,
sold for a reasonable price.

The people they love it
thet feed it
brush with it
bathe with it
breathe it
inject it direct to the blood.
It seems to be replacing love.



You know theres always gonna be pedigree
one own the air
one pay to breathe.

by the way
i love roxxy
i love kj
i love remo
i love victoria

i love victoria so much that i'm going to look up whatever is wrong with her and buy her some very nice chocolate. Nice chocolate from a nice store.
the kind that costs hella money.
or i could knit her a pretty thing.
a pretty thing for the cancery girl.
a pretty hope that she gets pretty well after a pretty short period of time.

okay...? i said i wasn't drunk, but i figure i was lying because i always lie when i say i'm not drunk unless i don't feel like lying at the time. Yeah that makes all the sense in the world, cecilia.
I'm supposed to be doing note-taking or current event making or color wheel drawings that were due days ago that weren't even today.
I'm sitting here wishing i was sitting at home listening to Nofx going Y MUSSED OUI STAY WEAR WEE DONT BELONGE.
because there's never gonna be enough space.
It's hilarious when you look on the left side of the library and you see masks that some stupid high school kids made, then you look on the right side of the library and see egyptiion masks and fancy shmancy dragon masks.
I notice these things.
i don't give a shit that i'm kind of ill. that i sort of don't have a liver right? that i sort of can't walk all the way up any given hill without stopping.
that when i run from lower campus to mr. kendells classroom, i feel like my heart is exploding and i think to myself wooo i wish i had some pills/some vodka/some pot/a cigarette/some beer/something to fuck me up.
and when i have't slept for two days i lay under the blankets whispering I'm Not Tired because if i fall asleep i won't hallucinate.
then i think if i had some pot...
then i think if i had some coricidin i would never have written that horrible stupid essay in the first place.
i was under the influence of no sleep
i was hyperventilating on my roof for 2 hours.
i had never done that before. Does that make it...something to brag about? ha...hah ha. i don't know why i began. but i threw every diary-notebook-thing i've ever written in. and i tore my calendar off the wall and i sat on the floor hugging charlotte and i could not breathe right. I really had never done that before. The next day i took charlotte to school and wrote dishonest on my head. which is dumb because i usually am honest and if i write dishonest when i am dishonest i'm being honest but since i usually try to be honest and i wrote dishonest i was being dishonest and trying to be honest about it when really i should have written dishonest on someone elses head. You can't write things on your own head while trying to write things on humanities head.
i can't, anyway
because i'm trying to be honest every time i make no fucking sense and people say you're cute.
and i get so tired of it that i want to go take a nap. but i have homework to do so i drink some vodka so at least i'm...sober.
get it???
it doesn't matter (i dont matter) because of everything that shakespeare said AFTER he was already dead.
because you don't make sense
and because i don't make sense if i'm you and i'm i and i'm me anyway
and i have chapped lips and honestly that's all i've talked about today that really matters.

honestly

hahahhahahahahahhahahHAHAHAHA!!!!!