I've been playing guitar for hella long, outside. Not so much playing guitar as singing along with it... i'm not a guitar player so my fingers are bleeding. I'm drunk.
i can't think about anything except kj.
oh my god.
god who must exist for bringing such a beautiful creature into this world. i mean it. i wish i were you just to see how you're doing. i wish i were with you so we could be screwing.
i love this boy so much. he's proof.
and sometimes i get so...scared that he's going to leave me for some other girl. or not even for some other girl, just leave ME. and if that were to happen there would be nothing i could do about it.
all i can do is enjoy what i have now. kisses between classes; rides home, where he says cecilia, touch my nipple and it's annoying and romantic at the same time: flapjack.
and part of me says I TOLD YOU FLAPJACK EXISTS!
and i strum the guitar and scream scream scream.
i scream about iraq. i scream about osama bin ladin and how i agree with him. i scream about being on probation. i scream about how God must exist if kj is an angel and i met his dad in juvenile hall. i scream about how fucked i am for getting drunk. i scream about how i'm not really that fucked up, so i won't get punished. i scream about how my name is cecilia, but people call me ceci and i don't really know why. I scream about this boy that has blue eyes and blonde hair and i even scream about how lame i feel for screaming about a boy. and i'm strumming the same thing over and over because i'm not a guitar player.
and i say mark i miss you now
i say mark now that i need you, now that i'm ready to sing while you play, you're not here to play for me.
i scream i love you but there's only so much i can take
i whisper i love you but there's only so much i can take
i say their names: remo victoria mark ortiz mother dearest.
i cry i love you but there's only so much i can take
i say, there's a court order keeping me here: the worst place i can be.
i open my eyes very wide and i suck on my bleeding fingers.
i'm not an alcoholic, because i feel no need to drink any more. and i'm barely buzzing right now. i'm in the perfect mood for a melody. everything is a song. everything is real.
i wish kj were around because he can play guitar.
even though i highly doubt my wretched singing would go at all with his guitar playing, i'd love to create some kind of whackass shit with him.
what sucks is that i'm only comfortable with singing when i'm drunk. and what sucks even more is that i think i'm pretty good, actually, but no one will ever know because i'm giving up the drinking idea.
by now i figure kj and eli are home.
while i was swimming at jareds i was thinking how grand it was that i was having a good time and so was he. roxxy and victoria were topless and i was drinking whiskey with juice for a chaser. and, of course, it was jared's juice so it was pure and natural.
and at first i was like oh my god i have to drink more oh god i must drink MORE but then i chilled out and i'd say i handled myself very well. i only drank like two shots more than i originally poured myself.
i remember every second of the night.
no blacking out.
i feel kind of bad because when we got home i went straight outside with the guitar and became kind of antisocial, but remo and victoria were naked so i didn't really want to be inside anyway. and GOD was i on a roll! i was singing!!!
do you understand!
i haven't sang since march, not really anyway.
it was like... it heightened my spirit.
so so what if everyone else is asleep and i've been antisocial.
i feel fantastic.
i feel like putting my hand out and touching the worlds heart, just to see how it's beating. i feel like diving into a volcano. i feel like how eyes go up and down before you kiss someone. i feel like a surprise party. i feel like running a mile. i feel like gold. i feel platinum.
i feel like i had a great day.
it's just been a really good day.
i went to school late and was excused by my friend the librarian.
i talked to my love, and we kissed.
i ran a mile.
i went to the river with roxanne and lara.
i played red faction and got my ass kicked by victoria and roxxy.
i swam in jareds pool with frogs.
i got drunk for the first time in like a month.
i sang.
it was like the most loveliest day of my life.
life has just been improving since i got out of juvie.
i expect a stockmarket crash soon, but lately it's been so great...i feel like this is how life is supposed to be.
and i'm even thanking god for it.
and i'm smiling up and i'm saying i know you're listening sir!
but...osama bin ladin said that allah was backing 9/11. (bush says god is backing him, but bush is an idiot who doesn't understand the beam/speck idea so he can go to hell and probably will if you agree with "jesus") and if allah is backing 9/11 then why does he even bother to make signs for me? but what if i'm seeing a forest among the trees. or vice versa.
oh! confused!
there's no way to confirm anything so why do we even bother!?
there's no way to confirm Hey i love kj.
there's no way to confirm that debris from 2 falling buildings couldn't collapse another steel building.
i don't want to go to sleep.
i wish i had someone to talk to.
  :( ro's asleep
the rest are as well
i wish duke michigan were here
i wonder how the show was
i wish kj would come over and be my friend. and we could talk about all this stupid shit that i wonder if he'd even care about. and i would hold him close because he's the most important person i've ever met. and maybe he'd have some answer to what the hell?. and maybe it would be hilarious. and maybe i'd give him a kiss. and maybe he would look at me and see that this girl is in love with him?
and i'm human and i'm cecilia.
and i'm lost and i'm confused.
and i'm lonely and i'm bored.
and i'm awake and i'm tired.
and i'm drunk and i'm upset.
and i'm excited for no reason.
i saw robert today. he looked exactly the same. for a second i had this weird urge to kiss him. then we hugged and he was like what's up? and i was like not much, we were just swimming, what's up with you? and he was like nothing.
and my lips were purple from grape gum. and then he left.
i feel like killing myself just to have a reason to be so excited!
i feel like screaming.
but everyone is asleep and i must be quiet
oh i hate this.
i am sorry i left roxxy while i screamed, but it really was necessary.
i'm not tired enough to sleep but i'm tired enough to yawn.


earlier me and ro were talking about kj and i was playing piano and she said she thinks hes depressed and i flubbed all my notes and she was making chocolate milk and i was messing up fur elise and i decided oh my god i'm going to call kj just to remember he's not depressed Right Now and just to make sure he's okay and just to make sure he remembers that there's a girl living in cool,california that is completely in love with him.
but joan answered and said "he's out for the night"
and i said "thank you"
and we hung up at the same time.


i think i love him.

Escapism is mental diversion by means of entertainment or recreation, as an "escape" from the perceived unpleasant aspects of daily reality.

Escapism has occurred constantly throughout time. Some believe that this diversion is more inherent in today's urban, technological existence because it de-facto removes people from their biologically normal natures. Entire industries have sprung up to foster a growing tendency of people to remove themselves from the rigors of daily life. Principal amongst these are fiction literature, sports, films, television, roleplaying games, pornography, recreational drugs, the internet and computer games. Many activities that are normal parts of a healthy existence (e.g., eating, exercise, sexual activity) can also become avenues of escapism when taken to extreme.

In the context of being taken to an extreme, the word 'escapism' carries a negative connotation, suggesting that escapists are unhappy souls, with an inability or unwillingness to connect meaningfully with the world.

Some social critics warn about attempts by the "powers" that "control" society to provide means of escapism instead of actually bettering the condition of the people. In one of the interpretations of the famous quote by Karl Marx "Religion is the opium of the people", religion (particularly religions that promise an afterlife) is presented as escapism that distracts the oppressed. Others may dispute the implication that any one group is in charge of society, and argue that means of escapism are provided by the market to those who desire a form of "escape." Two fictional escapist societies are the Eloi of The Time Machine and the one in Fahrenheit 451, focused in visual entertainment.

However, there are some who challenge the idea that escapism is fundamentally and exclusively negative. For instance, J.R.R. Tolkien, responding to the Anglo-Saxon academic debate on escapism in the 1930's, wrote in his essay "On Fairy-Stories" that escapism had an element of emancipation in its attempt to figure a different reality. His friend, C.S Lewis was also fond of remarking that the usual enemies of escapism were jailers.

A German social philosopher Ernst Bloch wrote that utopias and images of fulfillment, however regressive they might be, also included an impetus for a radical social change. According to Bloch, social justice could not be realized without seeing things fundamentally differently. Something that is mere 'daydreaming' or 'escapism' from the viewpoint technological-rational society might be a seed for a new and more humane social order, it can be seen as an "immature, but honest substitute for revolution".

http://www.fema.gov/pdf/library/fema403_ch5.pdf

i'm going to netfuck everyone thats ordering these shitty netflix. i'm going to order the exact opposite of the crap they want. and it is going to be great.
and i'm gonna laugh

also
i haven't stopped eating since i got home
and from the looks of things i'm not going to stop anytime soon.
yum yum yum
food
happitai castle
amerikadesu
i'm going home now i'm going home
rfrahhhh

i met matt
hes cute

i want to get drunk rawr tomorrow is running tomorrow is roxanne tomorrow is a desk and i dont' even know why
tomorrow is not me drunk
and it is not philly
and i thank god for that
hallowed be thy name
RAAHEWRGSHSJKH TGE!
fuck this

i'm so sick of being real.

who the hell is ordering these netflix.
more V, and thirteen ghosts. it's like who cares?
and tomorrow i'm staying after school to run run run run
because cecilia berry will not stand for a D in p.e.
pringles cheezums are addictive.
i love water
i want dairy queen
i'm hungry all the time
i named him duke michigan and he will be my first son, besides glen.
i'm having a little trouble with it, but i just need to remember the whole story, then there it is, bound in white.
and green.
i have billy joel stuck in my head again.
my stomach hates cheezums.
i can't stop eating them
maybe they go to a brothel?
woah hitlers on tv
fuck hitler i've read a shitload on him. he's twice as boring as Prince Duke Edward Michigan
i love him already

really.

okay so            cd = 10.00
              poster = 1.00
           california tax = .94
              shipping = 2.00  

grand total= 13.94
i'm sure she won't miss it.

i'm battling my inner demons
nofx has for sale wolves in wolves clothing for ten dollars AND if you buy it online you get some free junk, a sticker and some keychains. at the store it was 13.99. and although i don't have ten dollars any more than i don't have 13.99, my mother does. and yesterday she gave me her credit card pin so's i could get some money out for her.
and...i really really really really want it.
it's only ten dollars. :(
of course, that doesn't include shipping and handling.
and the fact that while i'm at it i'm going to get a poster.
and a shirt.
and everything else then we'll be broke one day and my mom will go WHere did all the money go?
and there's this truck comes up and unloads fat mike.
and he's like where do you want me?
arghg

poo.

i don't know the credit card number anyway
i'll just be a good little monkey and place my order and go penny-searching like i did for glen. then send a money order and be patient.

There's an old man sitting next to me
Making love to his tonic and gin
He says, "Son, can you play me a memory?
I'm not really sure how it goes
But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete
When I wore a younger man's clothes"

i hated gone with the wind
but as much as i hated it i wish it were here to keep me company at night.

i miss kj.
even when i see him i miss him.
i'm like aching.
and then i come home and jared and victoria and remo are all packed up to go camping.
and they're going to get wasted.
and it's not fair to me. after all, i went to juvenile hall and i decided that woah i'm not gonna drink anymore. but i'm on extra house arrest even though i already learned my fucking lesson. and they have the option to go camping and i don't. and i'm being punished for drinking and they're going to get drunk. and it's like...i wouldn't.
it's like focus on the wrong area.
every single day, remo and victoria get high in their room; same as always.
and i miss kj
and i'm sick of it.
i don't ever see him anymore
and when i see him it's for just a few minutes and when is the last time i got a chance to look in his eyes and talk to him?
i'm very sad and lonely right now.

kj houpt turns me on
every time i look at him i faint
every time i hear his voice i'm howling
every time i kiss him i'm in heaven
the end

oh man
it's fucking weird becuase for like an hour and a half i'll be on the doorstep of hell. and muttering and shivering and sweating and crying i want to die. then suddenly the fever goes away and i'm cheerful and dancing and cooking.
but it's in phases, see?
oh man man man! i looked up on the dreaded influenza, and fiddle-dee-dee! they say it could lead to pnemonia and oh my gush that's totally likely what with my lung contusion thing. the doctors said i'd have more of a chance to develop pnemonia so i should moniter my breathing with that doohicky upstairs. the doohicky that i threw in my closet and haven't looked at since i left juvie.
and 36,000 people die of the flu every year in the US. who'd have thunk it?

i think scarlett o'hara is a rotten bitch for marrying Frank Kennedy. it's like DUDE that was your sisters beau! how dare you! and just to keep that wretched farm running that you aren't even living at! and ESPECIALLY when Rhett Butler is RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR STUPID LITTLE IRISH HEAD and all she has to fucking to is open her green envy evil eyes and see that oh dear, ashley's not that fantastic. obviously his only interest in her is carnal, as they have nothing in common anyway-not like rhett. She sits there at fanny elsings wedding and scorns everyone for hiding from the truth in their little lie-lives about how the cause is all great and it's okay they lost. going about the old ways and not opening their eyes as she's done to see that the old ways are gone. Yet in the orchard ashley was saying the same damn thing! how she was too real and he prefered his shadow puppet theatre. THEN SHE HAS THE GALL TO PRAISE HIS CHARACTER CONSTANTLY TO RHETT BUTLER!!! i will hate this scarlett bitch belle of the ball beauteous and headstrong to the day i die. because you KNOW rhett won't have her in the end.
and it's a pity-- they deserve eachother, selfish beasts.
but in spite of her horrid bitchiness and stubbornness and selfishness and callousness, you have to love how she does manage to get what she wants. and she can add lists of figures in her head.
i wish i could do that, scurvy cad.

once i finish reading gone with the wind i'm going to read that book i have... by fredrick douglas i think. i don't remember what its called american life as a slave or something... i swear gone with the wind gives you SUCH a point of view it's amazing. it is now necessary for me to read the wind done gone because there are so many ways you could go with it. and fuck the klu klux klan!

sometimes i feel like the smartest creature alive
sometimes i feel like shaking with fever all of a sudden and i can't bear all this sitting up and open eyes.

YUM CHICKEN SOUP!!!

I'm tired of hearing of young fellows, who think you know it all.
You know nothing, you have not seen a shot fired,
and you're waving the damn flag.

I'm just watching some bullshit.
On the news. It's fucking bullshit.
Reporters trying to win a fucking emmy.

It's the makeshift,
The patriot,
the flag shop is out of stock,
I hang myself for your live telecast.

Coming live from my own funeral
Beautiful weather offered a nice shine,
Which is suitable for a full view of a forever altered skyline.
It's times like these I freestyle biased opinions every other sentence.
My journalist ethic slips when I pass them off as objectives.
Don't give me that ethical shit.
I've got exclusive, explicit images to present to impressionable american kids,
and it's time to show this world how big our edifice is.
That's exactly how they attacked,
when a typically dark-skinned disney villain.
Use civilians against civilians and charge the trojan horse into our buildings.
Using commercial aviation as instruments of destruction.
Pregnant women couldn't protect their children;
wheelchairs were stairway obstructions.
I had to back-pedal from the shower of glass and metal,
wondering if after it settles,
we'll find who provided power to radical rebels.
The melting pot seems to be calling the kettle black when it boils over, but only on our own soil, so the little boy holds a toy soldier, and waits for the suit and tie to come home.
We won't wait till he's older, though,
before we destroy hopes for a colder war to end.
I'll get a close-up of his head.

It's the makeshift,
The patriot,
the flag shop is out of stock,
I hang myself while the stock markets crash.

The city is covered in inches of muck.
I see some more pictures of victims are up
Grieving mothers are thinking their children are stuck,
leaping lovers are making descisions to jump while holding hands, to escape the brutal heat; sometimes in groups of three.
The fallout was far beyond the toxic clouds where people look like debris 
But all they say when all was said,
beyond the talking heads, was the bloody dust with legs,
looking like the walking dead calling for meds.

All the hospitals overwhelmed,
volunteers need to go the hell home.
Moments of silence for firefighters were interrupted by cell phones.
Who's going to make that call, to increase an unknown death toll?
Its the one we rally behind.
He's got a megaphone, promising to make heads roll.
We'd cheer him on, but asbestos is affecting our breath control.
The less we know, the more they fabricate,
the easier it is to sell souls.


There is a new price on freedom, so buy into it while supplies last.
Changes need to be made;
no more curbside baggage,
seven pm curfew,
racial profiling will continue with less bitching.
We've unified over who to kill, so until I find more relevant scripture to quote,
remember, our kind is bigger, stronger, smarter, and much wealthier.
So wave those flags with pride, especially the white part.

We're selling addictive, twenty-four hour candlelight vigils on TV.
Freedom will be defended at the cost of civil liberties.
The viewers are glued to television screens, stuck,
'cause lots of things seem too sick.
I use opportunities to pluck heartstrings for theme music.
I'll show you which culture to pump your fist at,
which foot is right to kiss.
We don't really know who the culprit is yet,
but he looks like this.
We know who the heroes are,
they're not the xenophobes who act hard.
We taught that dog to squat,
how dare he do that shit in our own back yard.
They happen to scar our financial state,
and char our landscape.
Can you count how many times so far I ran back the same damn tape?
While the cameraman creates news and shoves it down our throats,
on the west bank, with the ten second clip put on constant loop to provoke US angst.
So get your tanks and load your guns and hold your sons in a family huddle,
'cause even if we win this tug of war and even the score,
humanity struggles.
There's a need of blood for what's been uncovered under the rubble;
some of them dug for answers in the mess,
but the rest were looking for trouble.

It's the makeshift,
The patriot,
the flag shop is out of stock,
I hang myself.
Don't waive your rights with your flags.

this sucks.

Okay all you June brides and Las Vegas tourists, June 2 will be a special day in the neon city. According to James Tegnelia, head of the Defense Threat Reduction Agency, Vegas residents and tourists alike will be able to see a “mushroom cloud” emanating from a 700-ton explosion scheduled for June 2 at the Nevada Test Site.

Perhaps you’re familiar with the atomic bomb testing southern Nevadans innocently witnessed in the 50s. Today it’s certainly difficult to fathom atomic bomb explosions as a spectator sport.

But that’s just what some of the 3 million June visitors and Las Vegas residents will witness on June 2.

“I don’t want to sound glib here,” remarked Tegnelia, “but it is the first time in Nevada that you’ll see a mushroom cloud over Las Vegas since we stopped testing nuclear weapons.”

Is anyone else alarmed by that statement?

The project is called Divine Strake and if you happened to see local news programs last night, you saw that the media now knows about the planned explosion. Can’t wait to see the flurry of media activity surrounding this.

And today’s Review-Journal, buried on page 8B in the Nevada section (why?), included a story by Tony Batt of the Stephens Washington Bureau about the blast.

Apparently Nevada’s congressional delegation was notified of the planned blast on Dec. 19, 2005 in a letter from the National Nuclear Security Administration. Of course, our elected officials are claiming words like “mushroom cloud” weren’t part of the notice. I’m sure if the words “mushroom” and “cloud” were in the letter they would have taken notice immediately.

Interestingly enough, Nevada Department of Administration official Zosia Targosz wrote in a Jan. 9 letter to NNSA that their proposal “is not in conflict with state plans, goals or objectives.” Great. Bring on the explosion, the mushroom cloud, and any radioactive particles that may happen to be part of the Nevada Test Site’s desert soil!

Perhaps our officials have been working feverishly to control the buzz that’s sure to surround such a significant explosion.

Why Divine Strake? Why now?

The test is part of a U.S. effort to develop weapons capable of destroying deeply buried bunkers housing nuclear, chemical or biological weapons (on foreign soil, of course).

And aren’t you glad the government is planning this test for Las Vegas? Apparently it’s of interest to our Russian friends, as Tegnelia said the Russians have been notified of the test. I’m certainly glad the Russians know what’s happening in Nevada before the Nevadans, or the rest of America for that matter. Thanks guys.

Divine Strake is a test scheduled for June 2, 2006 at the Nevada Test Site sponsored by the Defense Threat Reduction Agency. The 700-ton explosion has a two-fold purpose: 1) to study ground shock effects on deeply buried tunnel structures, and 2) to analyze the air blast produced by the buried charge and its modification as it propagates over the local terrain.

And since this is 2006 and not 1951 when the explosion “Dog” from Operation Buster, with a yield of 21 kilotons, was the first U.S. nuclear field exercise conducted on land (southern Nevada land mind you; with U.S. troops watching unprotected at a mere 6 miles distance), perhaps you’d like to know a little more about the Nevada Test Site.

The Nevada Test Site, approximately 1,375 square miles and larger than Rhode Island, is in Nye County about 65 miles northwest of Las Vegas. From 1951 to 1992 the Nevada Test Site was home to 952 announced nuclear tests (yes, many were unannounced; aren’t they sneaky?). The government also tested nuclear bombs elsewhere, but only 129 of them (many at the Pacific Proving Grounds in the Marshall Islands).

In the 1950s mushroom clouds from the tests were regular tourist attractions in Las Vegas where they could be seen from hotel rooms along the Strip.

Perhaps if you act soon, you could book the Strip’s most elevated hotel room with a view to the northwest and stake out the horizon on June 2. If you’re in town for a wedding you’ll certainly have a digital or video camera. You could probably even make some money selling the images you collect when the Defense Threat Reduction Agency does its thing. Good luck.

And for those of you planning on being June brides, what better day to say your vows than June 2 when for the first time in this century Las Vegas will be home to a mushroom cloud reminiscent of the 50s.

=====================================================
Plans for a Pentagon-led experiment that involves detonating 700 tons of explosives in the desert drew criticism from state leaders and a disarmament activist.

The explosion scheduled for June 2 at the Nevada Test Site is part of an effort to design a weapon that can penetrate solid rock formations in which a country might store nuclear weapons or other weapons of mass destruction.

"I am concerned that tests of this magnitude have been planned without providing Nevadans with any information about the possible impact on their health or safety," said Senate Democratic leader Harry Reid in a statement Thursday.

Nevada Test Site spokesman Darwin Morgan said the test will be conducted about 90 miles northwest of Las Vegas, near the center of the former nuclear testing site.

The test, named "Divine Strake," will involve nearly 40 times the amount of commercial ammonium nitrate and fuel oil explosive set off in the largest open-air, non-nuclear blast at the site to date. In 2002, 18 tons of explosives were set off at the Nevada Test Site.

"This is nothing that's out of the bounds for us. That's what our expertise is in," he said.

Morgan said the site obtained the required state approvals and air quality permits in January. Officials from the National Nuclear Security Administration, which operates the site, alerted the state's congressional delegation and state government in December.

The Nevada Department of Administration responded with a letter stating: "Your proposal is not in conflict with state plans, goals or objectives."

No elected officials responded to the notice until Thursday, Morgan said. The test site is not required to seek public comment, he said.

"Given the level of contamination in areas where nuclear tests were conducted, I have real concerns about the dust and other pollutants that will be released into the air as a result of this explosion," said U.S. Rep. Shelley Berkley.

Disarmament activist Pete Litster said tests at the site violate international law. Litster, executive director of the Shundahai Network, said the site belongs to the Western Shoshone Indian tribe.

dear die-ary
i am confused.
confuzzled.
confused.
this is absurd!
this left and right!
this is what we can not count on.
can.
up
down
FUCK ROLLARCOASTERS!
fuck coffee!
i have court tomorrow. then i go to school, then i go to the dermatologist, then i go to independent study.
i'm so sick of the world.
and the fucking news.
i'm so sick of people that don't talk about anything important.
i'm so sick of being stupid.
i wish i could just...figure it out.
but drugs never helped me there.
i just thought i was getting it, but i wasn't getting it. not really, anyway.
what difference is there between this girl and any other.
what potential could i possibly have? especially without proper funds.
PROPER FUNDS!!! FUCKING money! bastards are taking money out of taxes yet to be paid.
YET TO BE PAID
that's like...horrible.
for me, for you, for everybody of the future; a future without clean air, a future where a days stay at the hospitl costs 20,000 dollars.
i'm serious. that's the bill my dad got for when he had that lung thing. then my brother who got a bill for $500 just for the doctors to tell him "it is unclear what this is, take some motrin."
and i can rant and i can rave and i can cry about how screwed up, how unfair, how illogical this world is.
but it wouldn't make a dimes worth of difference to me. and definately not a positive difference. it would just make it worse.
REMEMBER CECILIA, THE WORDS OF MARTIN LUTHER KING JR (plagerist! screams steven berry):"I have not said to my people "Get rid of your discontent." Rather, i have tried to say that this normal and healthy discontent can be channeled into the creative outlet of nonviolent direct action."
and the good things? remember those? when you sat on the concrete outside of juvenile hall, watching the clouds go by, that was a good thing. i wasn't inside a room with two beds, one toilet/sink, 119 bricks, 336 bricks, one door that can only be unlocked from the outside. That was a fantastic thing. and yes, after a mere instant of freedom within the brick walls i had to line up once more. yes, my hands were behind my back so they couldn't punish me with a bag lunch. yes, my mouth was zipped shut so there would only be a good report come court time. but that couldn't take away my freedom! in that moment, the freedom to turn the clouds into whatever i wanted to turn them into. Nobody can take that away from me.
the dynamic human spirit that refuses to submit.
just keep breathing, even with a lung contusion. just put one foot in front of the other; it doesn't matter if you ARE going to end up in folsom, because you're going to end up somewhere.
don't depend on someone else to give you a ride.
depend only on your own two feet.

We all know the official story of September 11th: four jetliners were hijacked by groups of four and five Arabic men armed with box cutters, who proceeded to fly three of the four jets into the Twin Towers and the Pentagon. Subsequently the World Trade Center Towers, weakened by the impacts and fires, collapsed into piles of rubble. Later in the afternoon 47-story Building 7, also weakened by fire, collapsed. (Or did you miss that detail?) The FBI had compiled a list of hijackers within three days, and it was so obvious that Osama bin Laden had masterminded the operation from caves in Afghanistan, that there was no need to seriously investigate the crime or produce evidence. The "retaliatory" attack on the Taliban would soon commence.

http://www.whatreallyhappened.com/wtc7.html

call it conspiracy theory, but watch the video first.

so i read the letter from birmingham jail by our savior martin luther king. then i tried to impress my dad with my glorious knowledge about martin luther, and he squashes my poor little soul by talking about how martin luther king was a plagerist. then i mention my newly acquired fact about how 30 years ago the top 100 cheif exectutives were making 30 times more than the average worker, and now they're making 1000 times the average worker. and he topped that by saying he heard it a few years ago, and it was important because japan's top executives were still at a mere 50 times the average worker, making japan a crapload better than the u.s.
and i made pancakes for my mom because it's her birthday,
but they came out gross and squishy.
so my poor little heart fire has been extinguished, and i will now throw myself from a very high building.
farewell.

LAYER ONE:
-- Name: cecilia
-- Nickname: lame
-- Birthdate: june fourteenth
-- Birthplace: san jose
-- Hair color: i dont know
-- Height: 5'something 4?
-- Righty or lefty: i don't care.





Layer two
-- Your heritage: i don't know
-- The shoes you wore today: boots, then these weird moccosin things then slippers
-- Your weakness: i have no weakness
-- Your fears: i have no fears
-- Your perfect pizza: chocolate cake pizza
-- Goal you'd like to achieve: learn japanese



LAYER THREE
-- Your most overused phrase: shut up? i don't know? so what's going on? i don't know. half the time i don't even know what i'm saying.
--your thoughts first waking up: does ANYONE keep track of that? that's the most ridiculous question there is. no one can fucking answer that, every day is different. sure there's like...a pattern, mostly people wake up thinking god already? or something along those lines but i don't fucking know! morning is morning, you don't remember your first thoughts. people just assume they woke up thinking it's a bad thing to be, awake. but really...in those moments when you first awaken, you're pure and you're real,and the thoughts you have then are forgotten, because they're part of this ancient thing called human.
-- Your best physical feature: my dick
-- Your bedtime: like 11, usually.
-- Your most missed memory: swinging on the swings at northside school with a 32 of miller in my hand, singing. that was a beautiful time when i was young and love didnt matter and achoholism didn't matter. that was a good time.



LAYER FOUR
-- Soda: is gross because UGH carbonation!! root beer is good though because it's sweet.
-- Fast food joint: in n out mmm or jack in the box fuckin 99 cent tacos hell yeah who cares if its tofu?
-- Single or group dates: depends on the mood i guess
-- Adidas or Nike: adidas
-- Chocolate or vanilla: vanilla
-- Cappuccino or coffee: coffee
-- Favourite football club: what is a football club?





LAYER FIVE
-- Smoke: yes
-- Sing: all the time. it gets annoying
-- Take a shower every day: i highly doubt that anyone takes a shower every single day of their life.
--have a crush(es): i have a thousand
-- Do you think you've been in love: i do
-- Want to go to college: i really dont. Really. but it has recently come to my attention that hello, unless i get a job with medical benefits or go to collegs i'm going to be kicked off insurance and i'm not going to get psoriasis medicine i so desperately need. college is a scam it's bullshit but i'm going to do it. but i won't enjoy it. especailly since ARGHHH i don't drink anymore ARHGHGHHGHG
-- Like school: most schools i've been to were crappy
-- Want to get married: maybe. i like the whole in sickness and in health thing. it's sweet.
-- Believe in yourself: sometimes a lot sometimes not so much
-- Get motion sickness: sometimes. not recently
-- Think you're attractive: i'm a hot tamale
-- Think you're a health freak: i take lots of pills
-- Get along with your parents: i'm on friendly terms with them
-- Like thunderstorms: unless i'm outside
-- Play an instrument: i play my...ass





LAYER SIX
In the past 6 months...
-- Drank alcohol: theres a long story about that
-- Smoked: in the past six hours
-- Done a drug: probably
-- Made out: yes
-- Gone on a date: a thousand
-- Gone to the mall: yes
-- Eaten sushi: no
-- Been on stage: yes, not like i was preforming, i was just standing there for a second
-- Gone skating: yes
-- Made homemade cookies: yes
-- Gone skinny-dipping: in the bathtub
-- Dyed your hair: purple!
-- Stolen anything: a thousand latex gloves





LAYER SEVEN
Ever...
-- Played a game that required removal of clothing: no
-- Been trashed or extremely intoxicated: shut up.
-- Been caught doing something: someone!
-- Been called a tease: i don't know
-- Gotten beaten up: my brother kicked my ass when we were fighting over who got what room.
-- Shoplifted: yes.
-- Changed who you were to fit in: i don't think so. i probably changed to fit out if that makes sense. i wish i could change who i am to fit in. maybe i'd be happier. but i'm stubborn as fuck.





LAYER EIGHT
-- Numbers and names of children: i have a 7 year old named Glen.
-- Describe your dream wedding: very cute clothes. not just on the bride and groom either, fucking everyone that goes gets a free outfit that is very cute. and everyone gets cake that is yummy. and nofx is playing. fuck it, elton john is playing! and it's in the middle of france! but in a really crappy street that's kind of gross and nasty, so it's like the passers by can be walking in their boring dirty lives and look in an ally and see a beautiful connection between two people, holding hands. because we don't walk down the aisle separately, we walk together, holding hands. fuck marriage.
-- How you want to die: overdose.
-- Where do you want to go to college: >_<
-- What do you want to be when you grow up: smart
-- What country would you most like to visit: africa.





LAYER NINE
In the preferred sex...
-- Best eye color: the kind of eyes that make you stop and look again
-- Best hair color: whatever
-- Short or long hair: short-ish
-- Best height: tall
-- Best weight: skinny
-- Best articles of clothing: a fanny pack and a doo rag!!
-- Best first date location: like a party like a concert like drunk drunk drunk drunk! by that i mean a nice restaraunt because i love cloth napkins NOT
-- Best first kiss location: seriously, who fucking cares? it's ONE kiss. what makes the first kiss the most meaningful? oh i want my first kiss to be under a waterfall at the edge of a field of roses! and there are petals flying in the wind and the wind makes my hair swirl all around and then we kiss and my leg lifts up like in the movies!! FUCKING WHO CARES!!! it doesn't matter! in a fucking storage closet for all i care! yeah, i like that. a storage closet.





LAYER TEN
-- Number of drugs taken illegally: 3 everything else is legal!
-- Number of people I could trust with my life: 2, and that doesn't include me.
-- Number of CDs that I own: a couple stacks.
-- Number of piercings: my 2 ears
-- Number of tattoes: zero
-- Number of times my name has appeared in the newspaper: i don't like search the newspaper for a glimpse of my name. i'm pretty sure its been in there a few times though.
--Number of scars on my body: 5. more if psoriasis counts.
-- Number of things in my past that I regret: 3



that was lame.
i regret doing it.
okay make that 4 things i regret.

"I hear the voices and I read the front page and I know the speculation," the president said testily. "But I'm the decider and I decide what's best. And what's best is for Don Rumsfeld to remain as the secretary of defense."