this is the night
what a beautiful night
and they call it bella note

fuckin
i love gloves they make me so happy
i make me so happy
you've got it going on
i'm in love with the muffin man
who lives next door
with a baby inside
typing
slowly
like the tin man
like the little tin soldier
who stares and stares and runs and hides
mr. hyde
i hate homosexuals and i would never be friends with on ever
marsha 
mufasa mufasa mufasa
it tingles me

drew barrymore
i mean drew
drew wills
he knows whats up because him and me the king and i both learned the dance to agustas gloop
he will not be harmed
doo doo doo du du doo doo
i'm running from the rain
dodging the yellow submarine
i am a complete wealing
eraserhead eraserhead
i know i'm home alone
home alone two
glen glen glen!
it was time to watch donny darko
it was time to study study study
fuck that

i love brushing my teeth
i hate white socks
i hate light colors
i hate when the light is on and it's unnessasary
i love when i try to stand up and find that it is very hard to do so.
i wish i had given blood
i don't need it.
who even knows what's real and what isn't

on erowid, a lot of people have hallucinations about insects or crabs or spiders.
i mostly see people i know
like mr johnson
and emily berry
and photographs on the wall that turn into West and Tony
toni?
whatever floats your boat
whatever floats your kangaroo
like the television
alyssa turning off the tv
auditory hallucinations
wait
light up light up
as if you have a choice
nofx is the bomb
yes.
the bomb

bye bye baby i can't believe it
these people just shot my baby

it's hit me
it has definate
it was definate
i am lost
i am found
i am my very own missing puzzle piece
i have cottonmouth, big time

i feel like throwing up

i've felt like that for 2 days now
should i?

i'm cold
i'm not
i'm sick of this shit

i hate sleeping pills
i hate nausea
i hate the sound of music with jule andrews
i hate mary tyler moor
i am loathesom
i'm impossible
i am a popsicle
i am cat in the hat

she can do the pom poms
she can do the twist
but most of all she can kiss kiss kiss
k i s s

i am bennie and the jets
i am the house on mango stree
and i hate putting out fires.

i am cold
and i don't know why
and it is odd to type with gloves on
but i kind of like it
because i feel like david duchoveny
even though i can't spell shit
well, i can spell shit s h i t
but yeah

i cannot stop rambling
and i try
i really do and that is pretty fucked up

i do not think about anything worthwhile
that's pretty sad.
i shall send love letters now

uh
i'm reading on erowid
and all these people doing the same thing as me
and i took 10
which is 500 mgs
which is perfect i think
even a bit much for my weight
but
i just want to hallucinate
i love being here.

i was thinking about kj earlier
and i don't remember what i was thinking exactly
but it was very positive
because he's perfect.
i think that's what it was.
hahahahha
god i'm not even fucked up
i'm just retarded
i love it
fuckin
glen keeps freaking me out because he's sitting on the couch
and i keep forgetting he's there but there there THERE HE IS!
ahhaha 
i love it
!
and i love that song
i love the witches
i love japanese
and i love korean
and i love jdskjglsdgj!!
whatever the hell that means
but i hate psoriasis
but psoriasis= mr no big deal
mofuckah!
oh man oh man

i miss kj
i miss janine
i heckah miss victoria and remo
=(

my hands are cold i want gloves
i shall go glove myself

all right!
all i have to do is this!
when you put a ! after everything you seem happy!
then you look at it!
and you are happy!!
BULLSHIT I CAN'T HEAR YOU! i bet you could suck a golf ball through a garden hose!
only steers and queers come from Texas and you don't look like a steer to me!!
oh god!
and now i'm okay. not happy. not grand, not spectacular. but i'm okay
and i'm wearing white socks
but at least my toes aren't cold
and at least i smell like cat shampoo instead of cow shit.
that is a good thing.
i have clothes
that is a good thing
i have glen
that is a good thing
i wonder, how was king kong?
i almost wrote "i wonder, why did i take those pills"
and i shook my head and i go "i will never wonder why i take those pills"
FUCK!
i...don't know what's wrong or whats right.
i know what makes me smile:
chinese food
glen
the fucking sound of music! Oh my GOD! yesterday was so happy! every minute was fuckin great! i had this...happy just hidden inside me! too bad its gone, that was awesome. but anyway, the point is this!!!
my mom turned on the TV and we watched dawn of the dead which rocked shit.
then we flipped channels and something was starting on channel 6
and it was the mountains all snowy and we were guessing what it was about
and my mom goes "its a movie about a bear!" and i was all WHAT!? its not about a bear!
then i watched more mountains and i thought it was the great panda adventure or whatever and i'm all oh! you mean the great bear mountain! i mean... The great panda express!!
and i fucking cracked up because its not about a train! then my mom goes that's a resteraunt!
and we laughed some more
then it starts zooming in on some ugly guy
and i'm all its a movie about some ugly guy
but it turns out it's a female because she has a dress
so i go it's a movie about some ugly girl
and it zooms in and my mom's all It's Julie Andrews!
and she sings "THE HILLS ARE ALIVE WITH THE SOUND OF MUSIC"
and i could not stop laughing!
because it was like on superman "its a bird its a plane its superman!" but even better because it was julie andrews bursting into song
and we're watching that movie in chorus
so it was spectacular!


and remembering that makes me smile
and i took those pills already
which sucks
because i am so not going to be sober in a while
fuckin julie andrews

i fuckin love it.

hello, today. you make me vomit. you bring rain and pain and everything wretched.
so opposite
i am wearing pants. i am wearing white socks. i fucking hate white socks. i fucking hate pants. i'm wearing underwear, for once. i guess that's because i'm wearing pants, and i'm not wearing tights.
i am tired of wearing skirts.
and this is a very bad time to stop wearing skirts, because i have nothing but skirts in my drawers. i have five pairs of pants that i can stand wearing. and i hate them.
so it's pretty much skirts or hate.
today i chose hate.
i fucking hate these pants
i took a bath
i got the lasagna out of the oven. it's nasty but i ate some anyway.
i feel like shit.
i woke up feeling like shit.
i had a dream last night, about me and this kid. i don't know if it was a love interest or an enemy. i don't know if it was a male or female. we were running around and...something that had to do with sheep...and tigger...and...remo was there and we were running around the mountain and i know there were snakes but i'm not sure if we found anyway. maybe it had to do with aborignial architecture. i'm not sure at all. but it reminds me of Enders Game.

my mom woke me up saying she's off to arc. she won't be back till four. and part of me screams Drugs! and part of me screams Fuck i feel like shit.
so i got up and smoked a cigarette in the rain.
and i fainted inside
and i tried to vomit
and i took a bath
and i washed my hair with that nasty smelling orange cat-shit-shampoo and i had to leave it in my hair for 10 minutes
and i told myself these are the things you have to do.
the shaving the legs and the breathing in and out.
and i got out of the bath and i put on that nasty ointment shit on my legs and arm
and i fucking hate that i have to keep close watch on my skin. but i do. and i tried to put that nasty ointment shit on my head, but you can't do that for yourself because you have no idea where to put it and you can't put it in the right spot when there's a crapload of red hair in your way.
and you end up just smearing your hair full of goop.
so my hair is all...goopy, i'm debating whether i should swallow 10 of those chalky pills, and i'm in a terrible mood, and i'm fucking wearing White Socks.


i hate cetaphil.
i hate dovonex.
i hate triamcinolone acetonide.
i hate selenium sulphide.
i hate clobetasol propionate.
i fucking hate every product ever made by neutrogena, especially their nasty coal tar shampoo and their wretched hand cream that smells like baby powder.
the only shit i don't hate is that stuff that i lost.
that's the only thing that ever worked, but even that only works for a while before your skin builds up a tolerance to it. then you have to use some other nasty product until that shit will work again.
and it never goes away, does it?

i'm hating everything.
and i'm looking at those pills.
and i'm hating them too.
but...
all i have to do is swallow them.
and i'll be gone and i'll be here and i'll be there and i will not have to worry about anything while they dissolve in my stomach.
and i read that even when you vomit your stomach lining, it grows back after a while.
i am so glad i've never vomited my stomach lining, except that one coricidin day hella long ago.

i hate coricidin.
i wish i had some now.
i wish i didn't sound like such an addict.
i wish i were suha
i am suha
i wish i were alone
i have like 2 more cigarettes.
that's a sad sad thing
i hate white socks
i hate jostens

i love being here
i just don't like it much.
i feel like vomiting.
ten pills. ten pills.
i'm reading up on erowid
to convince me.
one way or another.

=(

i don't even feel high.

wow
i feel like i haven't been
for a really long time. like i just appeared, get it?

i woke up this morning at 4. and i got up and looked at the clock. and i said "i'm fine, man. i'm fine." and i went back to sleep
then at six, i woke up and said "i don't have school! i'm so happy i don't have school. i am so fucking happy i don't have school!"
then i went outside and smoked.
then i went inside and cleaned my room. and organized my backpack, and got out naiobi kenobi, and we studied together.
and i was laughing the whole time.
i had naiobe on my shoulder and i was studying for choir. i was reading aloud in a fucking british accent looking at my ridiculous self in the mirror going "foxtrot foxtrot!" and i was just reading about the baroque period. (If it ain't baroque, don't fix it!"
and i put naiobe after a while
because i could not stop laughing.
i was fall-on-the-ground-shaking with laughter.
i opened my closet door and i'm all, Remember when i got lost in my room!!
and i looked in the mirror and laughed
then i was like What the hell is so funny!
and i'm all i don't know but it's hilarious! Obviously!
and i fucking laughed and laughed
and i kept wanting to say "i'm so stoned"
but i wasn't stoned, so it didn't apply at all.
and i was confused
and that made me laugh too
and i smoked native american spirit cigarettes
and i studied for english
and i studied for drivers ed
and i laughed and fucking laughed
and i was without a shirt for a very long time, because all the laughing started when i was changing. and i was so fucked up i just put on my sweater. then i looked down and i'm all "i need... a shirt!" and i cracked up because...i was wearing a shirt before, but naiobe peed on it.
so it was hilarious! obviously!
and then....i...put on this crazy dress
and watched rocky horror picture show
and said
why the hell am i wearing this crazy dress!?
and i laughed
and put on a vortex shirt from great america
and i looked in the mirror
and said "America, FUCK YEAH! coming again to save the motherfuckin day yeah, america FUCK YEAH!"
and i said to myself,
when you do this (i threw my fist in the air) it means FUCK YEAH
when you do this, (middle finger raised) it means Fuck You.
And when you do them together, you are whack.
and i laughed, of course.

then i lit incence
and then i couldn't stand that i was so happy without a reason
so i smoked some pot
and now i'm downstairs
and...nothings as funny.

that kind of sucks.


and my mom wants to get a tree.
i do not want a tree. because i am a grinch
and because
if we have a tree
that's just dumb
because it's not like christmas is anything really
also, they smell gross.
and there's the...decorating...and the undecorating...and all the little pine needles that fall around the tree.
and cleaning it up after christmas
and throwing the tree away...
of course, i think she wants to get a living tree because she's all hug-a-tree...

anyway i want to make fudge, that's the best thing about christmas.
i think i love fudge.

and i'm thinking about taking the rest of my sleeping pills because i don't have very many left, just enough either to fuck me up enough twice or fuck me up big time once. so i think i'll choose the way fucked up and just avoid my mom.
and even if she caught me...i mean, there aren't any more pills left anyway, so it's no big deal.

what i really need to do, children is this; clean out my fucking closet!
i have like 4 or 5 empty 32s in there, and a can of coors from hecka long ago, and a bunch of empty coricidin packets, and a can i used to smoke pot earlier, and a whole bunch of yarn.
and my clothes are everywhere. i have like 14 drawers completely full of clothes. but it's not like drawer for shirts, drawer for stuff you don't really wear, or anything like that.
it's like drawer 1= clothes
drawer 2= more clothes
like NO structure whatsoever
because i "cleaned my room" right?
yeah...right.
i just fuckin threw all the clothes in the drawers.
whatever drawer
whatever clothes
whatever room
whatever king kong

and....
basically
my spine is starting to hurt
because i'm in a...odd position
i shall fix that now.
yes

victoria is good
remo was hella drunk yesterday
angie found my ring
janine came over
i have to study for finals
glen has been hanging out downstairs for a few days
i want some pills
we're making tamales
i crave some chocolate
i wish i were here
and...
i'm bored.
and i hate finals
and i hate that i'm actually studying for them
and i Fucking Hate jostens.

You’re gay
Over and over and over again
When you play the same four chords over and once again!
She plays the trombone!!
And Carla laughs like the red fat woman.
I know you’re sick
I know you’re tired
I know you’re sick of being sick and tired.
I miss the backwards man, lets face it. I always thought that I would fall off the tower, I always knew we can never race offscreen again.
I can’t believe I don’t even know what caused the renaissance
Aren’t people supposed to know that crap?
And fuck jostens, man.
My head itches.
And I’m still
Lost in translation
Lost in fallacy
Broken soul.
Whack!
!
I fucking love it!

did you know my father is the rain man?
do you know tata dios
do you know west from east
do you know the muffin man?
when you throw things to the ground and stomp on then, mostly they break.
get it?
why did we ignore it all?

i love ignoring it all.

i hate when my stomach hurts.
my stomach always hurts.
somtimes i regret taking the pills
sometimes i don't.

learning is not attained by chance, it must be sought for with ardor and attended to with diligence. -abigail adams.

roxanne types too fast.

It’s perfect, life.
Every day is so similar when we eat and sleep and rest. When we fight and yell and cry. When we yawn. When you wake up and remember your dream.
When you dream.
When you go to school with a hat on your head and cheese in your hand.
You get it!
I’m saying i'm high.
oh man
angels we have heard on high!!
disco dancing!
Kung Fu fighting.
race me far from rhubarb.
its rambles in the brambles

i feel good.
i know i can't form a complete and coherent sentence right now.
i don't mind.
i am thinking clearly.
i am thinking clearly.
i can't speak though.

i can't believe i saw that centaur.

it's things like that. like watching tv without watching tv.
imagine.

i go "i can see clearly now the rain is gone, i can see all obstacles in my way"
and i watch some people making egyptian pyramids.
and they finish and cheer.
and i wish i had a blanket.
and i wish i were always happy.
i wish i were listenig to 311 right now
with a 211 in my hand
and with more pills.

drugs.
my muse.
my enemy.
my friend.
my temptation.
my faliure.
my hatred.
my love.
my gold.
drugs.

i think there is an eyelash in my eye.
it sucks.
a lot.

but i'm not going to get all bent out of shape about it.
don't get your panties in a twist!
yesterday i was cracking up so hard! because don't get your panties in a twist!

and i don't know for sure but i think it'll get darker before it gets lighter!
follow the yellow brick road!
oh discordia!
fnord!
fnord is the day before tueday and the day after monday.

remember the bengay

i'm so pleased with this life.

i cannot wait.

i am winnie the pooh going "think think think"

and kj is right here beside me.
and i want to know everything about him
and i want to paint my nails.
and i want to go upstairs where it is warmer.
and where there are pills that will be great for me.

ew
i hope i'm not anemic, yuck.
angie is.
and she has excema
so we know what's up
and i love those kids
and i hate george bush
but... seriously. the only thing people need to say when bush screws something up is "duh".
it's gotten old.

i wish kj were here.

today i was singing
you are my sunshine, my only sunshine....
and it reminded me of roxxy
tok
ro
gir
love nacho
pocket pancake
and so i sang that ridiculous song, and hecka people joined in.


i am my very own soul.
did you know?
do you think the aztecs got it right?
i'm solo
i'm wandering
i'm wondering
i am the girl who saw a centaur
i saw him run, leap, fly
it is always thought
we spin and circle and spin and circle
a neverending waltz between the moon, the sun, the earth and all the things that matter.

associate with something, anything, anyone. except that weird kid with blue hair and cheek peircings. what a cruel cruel world
cruella deville
i'm asking you to attach wires to my head
i'm asking for a piece of gum
i am asking for a brand new life
i am asking to see the centaur one more time
i am asking you to call me white
i am asking you to call me lame
i am asking you to take two placebos.
i am asking for a wednesday with you.
i am asking kj to marry me
i am begging for a kiss
i am running fast away
i am forever
that is what my soul feels
it comes from your heart
it comes from your eyes.
it beats like a drum
and souls are warm and souls are cold
souls that raise our temparature when we have a cold.
souls are the parts that don't die.
souls are the source.

jovial
unsteady
raspberry truffle
pills
suha fredrick

i wish my heart would beat a little harder.
it seems to be beating weakly. (not weekly, ahha)

i hope i'm yours
i have a weak heart
a weak soul
weak ankles
a weak smile.

i suppose it is hard to embrace someone who is wrapped in barbed wire. green angel.

i am beneath you. you are beneath me. and we claw ath the labels and expectations. trying to change our fate, right mr. chollet?
i am only hidden beneath it all.
i am claws and fangs and kindness
i am voice
i am soul
i am every color hot and cold
i am dialated pupils
i am in a church
i am a leaky faucet
i am tears
i am broken china.
i am free
i am a lie
i am a low red blood cell count
i am black ink
i am soap
i am a mirror
i am a smile


did you know
history is history
every day is history
today is becoming history
changing and become a mere memory

i wish my eyes to be open. throw these glasses to the ground and stomp on them. just like vegeta.

kj is my number one.
i figure that out more and more every time he smiles. everything he says.
he can fucking make dolphin noises!

here i am wayback road
i miss 1819 windterpark way
i miss 408 259 1028
i miss hellos and goodbyes.

there is a centaur in our midst.

so my mom took half of my miller
because i forgot to hide it when i opened the door for her.
i was too busy hiding the pot.
and she took it!
and i acted like i didn't care.
but i cared.

and i've been on pills every day this week, so far.
taking 9 each time diminishes your supply.
but it's worth it when you hear the radio playing and you know it's in your mind.
when you're watching the tv and it wasn't even on.
when you see a centaur run across the street, lunge for a deer, than fly away as a phoenix. and you point, and your mom didn't see it.
making something out of nothing.

and RIGHT after i write about how great i feel.
my brother calls
crying
and victoria is in the hospital
because the cancer is back
and she lost a lot of blood
and she's unconscious til tomorrow
and she almost died
and the doctors had the nerve to say to remo: All we can do now is pray for her.
and he is so scared
and i miss him so much
and i wish they never left
and i wish they never left
and i wish i could help them
and i wish i knew what to do
and i wish i knew what to do besides finish this miller and smoke cigarettes
and pace
and drink
and pace
and smoke
and pace
and drink
and smoke
and pace.

i can only pray.
remo doesn't believe in god
and maybe i dont either
but i do believe that if you wish something hard enough it can't HURT.
right?

my heart feels like its in my throat
i feel like it is going to explode in my throat
and i'll have no choice but to vomit my own heart out.
i'm going to take a bath
a hot bath.
and i will drink miller
and i will smoke
and i will worry
then when i get out
i will pace.

and please god.
she's unfortunate and she did no one wrong.

i feel so fine right now. i feel so calm right now. i feel like laughing. i feel like smiling. i feel like listening. i feel like howling. i feel like running. i feel like singing. i feel like peter pan. i feel like pocahauntas.
i feel like cecilia rosanne berry, taking on the world cracking the fuck up.
cracking the fuck up. i AM a fuck up!
and that fucks me up.
i love it.
my eyes are shining with all the glory in the world.
i don't need a mirror to know that they're smiling
i am not smiling, but my soul is.
i'm shining.
i am shining.
and i'm not even drunk yet.
i'm buzzing.
i feel perfect.
i wish i could feel like this all the time.
but...
the pills are good too, the sleeping pills.
i was sitting at school tripping out
and i still managed to understand everything the teacher was saying, just...i didn't really have to respond to it.
i feel perfect.
i feel like i've always felt perfect.
Purrr-ana.
who cares?
i feel like i'm the queen of everything
i feel like i'm true. i feel like i'm real. i feel like i'm honest.
i feel like i'm alone.
i feel like i'm never alone.
i love it all.
i fucking love it all.
i feel so great.
i feel like eating silk chocolate cream pie.
i feel like making some snickerdoodles.
and not burning them this time.

i miss kj.

saturday = roxxy day.

she...threw away my pills. she called me a drug addict. i scoffed inside AS IF!
they're just sleeping pills, man.
i just take them to get a little high.
it's not like i'm...

i just take them because of how they make me feel so perfect.
so fucked up.
which is perfect.
i'm sorry that perfect = fucked up.
for me.
i'm not sorry.
but i am sorry that i'm not sorry.
if that makes any sense.

but it's not about the pills right now anyway
that is unimportant.
right now it's pringles, salt and vinager.
right now it's alcohol, the 32 oz miller kind
right now it's perfect without calling myself fucked up.

i feel good.
i don't want to go to sleep tonight.
i dont' want to go to sleep until the war is over.
i don't want to go to sleep because i'd rather go for a walk

tongue-tied and twisted, just an earthbound misfit, I.

man...
i love miller high life.
i love miller high life 32 oz status
i love burning couches
and mark killing a chicken with a machete
and pringles
and i love being me
and i love everything about everything that ever made me smile or cry. because it's the mere fact that i react, not what kind of reaction it is.


i feel like my heart is going to explode.
i feel like my heart is going to stop beating.
steady as the beating drum

that concert was such a disaster.
i'd feel bad for mr. johnson, but it's his fault anyway.
i had a good time
my lungs hurt.
my stomach hurts.
my back hurts.
my chest hurts.
my heart feels like it's going crazy.
i don't know.
i haven't slept in a long time.
but i can't give up now.
not now while i have
miller

i love beer.
i'm so fucking calm right now.
i'm so fucking happy right now.
i don't even need sleep.
i just need my pringles, my family, my memories, and south park

i never feel less fucked up.
and i gaurantee i'm lying.
because
i'm always FUCKING LYING.
like...that was a lie.
Drew knows what i'm talking about.
i'm a walking contradiction.

i love kj.
i love being me.
i love when i watch figure skating.
i love when me and carla associate christmas time with making fake reindeer hump.
i love making fake reindeer hump!
and the guy going: "you kids think you're funny!?"
and victoria going: "we ARE funny sir!"
and putting sand bags in peoples mailboxes.
and it turns out it was victorias mailbox!
and smoking pot with random chinese guys!
and it turns out they were mexican!
and fucking laughing in the middle of the night for no reason at all!
and talking so much shit, then it turns out you're perfectly fine.
and all you have to do is give it a new spin!
because,
the world is ALWAYS spinning.
and it's no wonder we vomit!

and there's a smile on my face.
and it's kind of ironic.
and i don't want to write a satire.
and i don't care about my grades.
and i don't care about my life.
and i don't care about my future.
and i don't care about my past.
and i don't care whether that's negative or postive.
because i feel so fucking great
and i feel like shit.
and it's like a chemical reaction!
and it makes me want some chemicals!!!
YES!
i'm so fuckin happy!
i don't know what to say
but i'll keep saying

because i have to look busy while i wait for my mom to take off that jacket!
and i tell her...i'm doing homework
and i'm not doing homework
i should be doing homework
i rarely do homework
i stick out my tongue at homework
*sticks out tongue*
it works out.
even though the homework is still due.
what?
^_^

^_^


^_^

my arms are really cold.
merry christmas.

fuck mr scrooge.

bah! humbug!!!

woohoo!

i don't know why i feel like shit.
i hate feeling like shit.
i'm focusing now on brighter things.
a boy.
a bed.
blue eyes.
i fucking love your eyes.

and i drink some water.
and i can't pretend it's miller.
but i try.
and i feel a little better.
as long as i keep breathing.
as long as i keep seeing.
and as long as i keep thinking.
boku genki.
that's not true, that last bit.
because i still do not feel fine.
i never feel fine.
just less fucked up.
or more fucked up.
or less loved.
or more loved.
more loved.
more fucked up.
which doesn't make any sense.


oh God i'm sorry.
i don't know what i'm sorry for.
i don't deserve anything.
i do.
i don't.
i...don't know how to explain myself.
i'd be so fucked if i were on trial.


i can't wait for tomorrow.
tomorrow i will be genuinely happy.
it always happens like that.
i'm so fucked up, then i'm so happy.
then i'm so fucked up.
right now i can only see fucked up.
i hate that.

god mom, take off your fucking jacket so i can rummage through the pockets.
and i bet she doesn't even have a cigarette.

there's wine

there's brandy

there's sleeping pills.

my sleeping pills.

i feel like calling carla.
i feel like calling remo.
i feel like taking drugs.
i feel like taking some hardcore fucking drugs.
i would love to take some hardcore fucking drugs.
i would so love to take some harcore fucking drugs.
alone.


i made myself out of all the pieces you gave me.
okassan.
otousan.
no.
i'm cold.

i'm tired of sitting here.

i miss feeling less fucked up.

it's back.
i don't know what to call it.
it's not a calm feeling.
i vomited.
it didn't help.
i want something.
anything.
i can't stand it.
i think my mom has cigarettes in her pocket.
so i'm sitting downstairs.
just waiting for her to take off her jacket.

we have brandy, scotch whiskey, a small amount of wine, benedryl and a bottle of sleeping pills.
i'm so sick of taking sleeping pills.
i take them almost every fucking night,
and i hate it.
i hate those fucking pills
i want the brandy.
we have 2 bottles of it.
one bottle is Jareds.
one bottle is my dads.
they're pretty much off limits.
i already walked around the house looking in ashtrays for smokable cigarette butts like 4 times.
that's me getting desperate.
that's me looking at every pill bottle label and going "could this fuck me up?"
and this is me going, i'm not a fiend i'm not a fiend i'm not a fiend.
i just want to get fucked up.
so bad that i'm eating top ramen just so i'll have something to vomit.
because vomit reminds me of coricidin
and i can pretend i'm fucked up for a reason.
and if i had a beer right now my whole life would be complete.
i would LOVE a fucking beer.
i would make out with it a little.
miller high life, 32 oz.
god.
listerine is 21.6% alcohol.
i'm not doing that again. it's hard on the stomach.
everything is hard on my stomach.

i still have a satire due.
it's late already.

i watched novacaine.
it was pretty rad.
my mom came home at the end of the movie.
by the time the movie was over i wanted something.
i wanted some novacaine.
i brought glen upstairs and we sat there for a while.
doing nothing.
i ate ramen.

i wish i had that fucking brandy.
i'm going to end up drinking some by the time the day is done.
the day is done.
it's night now.
days are fine.
i love days.
i can't stand nights. i always feel like shit at night.

i'm going out of my mind.

no sir, i dont like it.

i wish i had a bottle.
i'll end up taking those fucking sleeping pills no matter what.
i fucking hate sleeping pills.
they're so pointless.
and lonely.
and fucked up.
and wretched.
and everything bad ever.
i hate them.
i hate me...


i was fine earlier.

my stomach always hurts.
so....so i tell myself, if i had some robitussin it wouldn't hurt as much!
and i know in my heart that's bullshit.
but i say anyway, yes, cecilia, that's true. if i had some robitussin it wouldn't hurt as much.
if i had some robitussin i wouldn't hurt as much.
i'd feel fine.

but i Don't have robitussin.
and thinking about that makes me clench my fists, makes me want to rip the keyboard apart, makes me want to beat the SHIT out of something.
someone.
something.
whatever.

i don't have shit.
i don't have anything that could make me feel better right now.
i can't even listen to nofx.
nofx kind of makes me want to vomit.
everything makes me want to vomit.
which of course, makes me wish i had something to drink
so it would seem like my vomiting has a purpose.

my head itches.

i'm judging a fashion show.

i want to meet satan.
and i want him to take my soul.
and i want him to fuck me up.

i'm sick of fucking scratching my head.
i'm sick of wanting so bad.
i'm sick of being like... me.

my fucking stomach hurts.
it's not fair.
i hate narnia!
okay so check this out:
Now, about roaches crawling into ears. You may think this is some kind of deranged myth. Uh-uh. Happens all the time. In fact, a controversy has raged since 1980 over the best way to get the little bastards out. The conventional remedy: drown the critter with mineral oil. "One cannot use the commercially available roach sprays," one MD sagely notes, "because of technical difficulty and for possible medicolegal reasons"--i.e., the patient might sue. But mineral oil isn't ideal either, because the insect takes a while to go through its death throes in the patient's ear.

One proposed alternative is 2-percent lidocaine anesthetic. The value of this was seemingly demonstrated when a patient showed up at a hospital with cockroaches in both ears. (Unanswered question: what was this guy doing?) Recognizing a golden opportunity for a controlled clinical trial, the attending physicians put mineral oil in one ear. "The cockroach succumbed after a valiant but futile struggle, but its removal required much dexterity on the part of the house officer," they wrote. In the other ear the doctors put lidocaine. "The roach exited the canal at a convulsive rate of speed" and was promptly stomped by an intern.

But lidocaine has drawbacks too. Another doctor who tried it reported that (1) the roach died in situ and was hell to get out, and (2) the roach had punctured the eardrum, so the lidocaine penetrated the inner ear and the patient had the whirlies for the next five hours. Also, subsequent tests have shown that lidocaine works much more slowly than your top-quality mineral oil.

Promising alternative: suction. Of course, one must take care not to inadvertently seal the ear canal with the suction tip, thereby risking "tympanic membrane barotrauma" and, for all I know, possibly sucking out the patient's brains.

What else? How about fly larvae in the ear? Happens. Also earwigs, with those scary pincers. You know the story. Earwig gets into a guy's ear, chews through his brain, causes horrible agony. Finally it stops. The doctors say, good news: the earwig came out the other side! Bad news: it was female and laid eggs. You've also heard that this is BS, that earwigs don't really crawl into ears. Not so; two known cases. The part about eating out your brains may still be a myth, but who knows?

--CECIL ADAMS




does that make you want to cover your ears or what?
i must buy earmuffs!

i lost my ring in the tamales
or maybe in the garbage.
it is a sad day
stupid broken mirror...

i wish i were high right now.
i'm reading this book about a drug addict
called a million little pieces
and i totally love it
(even though it makes me really hungry)
because some of it is just...taken right out of my brain.
and i love it because almost all of it is fragment sentences.
and this guy is so messed up in life.
and i don't want to be that messed up
like...no way jose.

oh my GOD
i'm so fucking high
hahhahah
i'm cracking up about fuckin
i don't even remember
oh my fucking GOD

and
i have to give blood tomorrow
and i'm gonna be like you fuckin stoner vampires!

dude
i swear
i feel like i'm on mushrooms
i have like the laughing
and the crying thing and everything makes SENSE
oh my GOD!

woah

that's uh...fascinating