final fantasy seven motherfucker.
its like all the best parts of being wee all over again.
exept the part where i punched tony spinella (sp?) in the sturnum.

every now and then i hear her heals pounding on the floor. not that dainty click like when most females wear heals. pounding. im in matts room, trying to......be comfortable. his mom flipped the fuck out. he went to work. im hiding here, she knows im here, but im.....trying to stay out of the way? the door was open, and i wanted to close it. but i thought the noise might....you know. make her think about me existing. no bueno. the screaming stopped, but...the silence is worse.
she slammed the door shut like i wasnt even here....im like is she mad at ME?
what the fuck?
scary.
i wonder how the fuck im getting home?

matts mother is a complete psycopath. total fucking raving bitch ass psycopath. completely.

its...amazing. she's totally livid. about.......something?
I dont know wht. the end.

ceci is out. on house arest, but...out of 'jail.'
she calls a little now. i love this girl. she can hurt me with just a few words........
im going to have to get up in about five hours. im gonna go play my guitar a bit with some kids in placerville, home of an odd crop of math-rock.
i get to contribute.

so, it appears, as my father has presented the situation, that i have chosen to accept cecilia, thereby accepting her decisions as to her lifestyle. therefore, i have decided to suffer for pleasure. the pleasure of the compatability of another human being to myself, and their presence in my existance.
i have the benefits of her presence, of conversation ludacris to all passerby yet more meaningful to me than the words exchanged between myself and anyone i have exchanged words with on any attempted level of profoundity.
i have,albeit not for the time being, the benefits of her physical presence, the euphoric buzz of being absolutely, invincibly in love with one person, of being able to press my lips against hers, move my arms around her hips, to physically inebriate myself with every aspect of her body.
all i have to do is risk her self destuction. her temporary absence pains me. word of the bruises on her causes me to wince and my insides churn in hatred for anyone who would harm the most perfect, most human entity i can concieve.
and i risk her total destruction of herself.
its like......hearing from a doctor you have some flesh eating disease in your sternum, even moreso because there is the overwhelming sensation that this girl is somehow...the rest of me. i would not spend a moment of my life with her out of arms reach, given the choice.
my adoration is absolute.
and for now, i am suffering.
i can only hope for the best, leave her to her decisions, lending her my oppinion, not daring to opress her or restrain her.
and hoping that she doesnt somehow descend from a balcony in an inebriated state, falling into an injury that could potentialy kill her, having some form of authority come to take her, only to fester the situation when she resists.

and i feel her floating away, even as i type away like the impractical, quasifunctional, arbitrarily introspective primate i am in my current intoxicated state.

i hope to god i can keep her.

This whole thing makes my insides hurt. appearently they shipped ceci to juvie. she met my dad, who's...dissapointed...in my taste for women. he doesnt seem to not like her, just bitches about her having fucked priorities, kind of like the way he talks to me about...me. she should see the nurse and won't
(i dont know that and niether do you)
and i might get to have her back a little. next week.
hope she's still mine.
cuz ive been sensing a little distance lately.

so the love of my life (formerly known as the girl of my dreams) got drunk and jumped off her roof. her brother said she was tied down fighting and taken to a mental institution.
then theres that thing about her having a hard-on for a drug-dealer named jake. roxy has the acute ability to tell me things i shouldn't hear.
appearently this all stems from the fact i didn't call her yesterday. it looks like she called me while i was at work. my guess is that my parents picked up, said theyd take a message, and, uh, didnt.
so, of course, it is my nature to blame myself.

matt says everything is going to be okay.
im going to trust him and make it my number one priority not to kill myself.

thanks for reading

i almost died. no one cares. nor do i.

okay, so im driving home, its late, and i roll my window down to asist my poor defroster. i hear a sound like a cross between bells jingling and a chain rattling. and then i have the reoccuring hallucination of a completely white, white clad, hunched over man with black eyes and a chilling grin on the side of the road. he's also about fifteen feet tall and swinging what appears to be a white pendulum.
and i think to myself, 'oh, the sleep dep is starting to take its toll. well, id better get home and finish my essay.'

and here i am. wasting time and trying to ignore a relentless, terrifying paranoia.

im not even kidding.

heres what i'm thinking. the government is having problems with illegal immigrants crossing the mexican border to the u.s.a
my thoughts: annex mexico. mexico is a hole no one WANTS to live in except rich drug dealers and rich white people who buy vacation houses there (POOR PEOPLE SUFFER AND WANT SOMETHING ELSE). annexation of the place would lift the mexican people out of povery, erase half of illegal immigration, and stimulate the economy for both hot spots, the south would be FUCKED because poor racist white trash assholes would be up to their ASSES in middle-upper-class latino capitalists, ect.
this makes more sense to me than sending people to iraq to "fight terrorism"( when all we realy need to do is ask the right questions to that 9/11 prick they keep showing on the news/ questions asked with an angry dogs jaws a few inches from his face whenever there is an obvious withholding of information <this man is well acquainted with just about every terrorist outfit in the middle east, knows a lot, we're gonna put him on death row so he gets free room, board, outside time and CABLE whilst american troops rampage through civillian homes finding NOTHING>)
so by the way why are we in iraq anyway? there is no documentation of any sort of relation between osama and sadam AT ALL, there are NO weapons of mass destruction, there is only LOTS of pissed off muslims who will remain angry untill we get our heavily armed invasive anglo-christian asses out of there homes. at this point we might as well finish the job, but i for one have slapped my forehead real good and hard.
anyway, if mexico were to be annexed, the mexican people would most likely gladly join the military at the recruiters coaxing, such as the sharing of educational and financial opportunities.
there would be a small civil dispute, but seriously, the mexican government is a weak, ill-equiped joke, and i'm sure the word 'revolution' would ring real good and loud in the streets of people who would like to see their children into a better future.
im no great civil genious or anything, but i would LOVE to see the americas unified. i feel we have no buisiness in the middle east. i think we need to take care of shit in our own hemisphere, and offer south american peoples at least the opportunity to collectively accept something better.
unrealistic, yes. but fuck, i'm LIT UP.







pat babcock is a moron.

so last night i had a dream that kayla lived somewhere in san fran. and i was at her house and it was awkward. and somehow i ended up bawling my eyes out and just asking why?
and she kissed me and tells me i wasnt actually interested in her.
and i hurt. and i leave. but i dont know how to get to my house from san fran. so i got lost.

then i woke up with joan talking shit about me on the phone. and i realized i hate them all. im leaving in 8 weeks. and i will do as i please. which is to say, i please to do cecilia. because i love her infinately, because she fits me like the perfect prom dress. she is like the left arm i never had. like the rest of me. the intellegent half with the work ethic and the looks.

and this very moment i am alone. and it hurts.

so i read cecis diary. and i throb in my lil hatian heart.

and i wonder how can it be she sees me this way?

and i remember that one goth girl at the show in placerville staring at me like i was the only other person on the planet. that girl had hungry eyes.
and all the time im thinking 'Why me'?
and she kisses my window and im never going to see her again.

like anyone else i meet at a show.

my mood was all upand down and back again in cycles all day.
im just...confused.
so i had a few schizo laughing fits, threw some stuff, dusted some people off....... and drew some peacocks.

speaking of birds, i need to do ye olde allmusic check on red sparrows.

okay so i slept three hours last night. cecis gone.
im.......like a leech on anyone who wants to put up with me.

i had babcock for eighty minutes today. she's pro-life(anti-logic), tried to justify the japanese internment camps, and doesn't actually know shit about history.


i argued with her a lot.
she talks endlessly, saying nothing.
i was so pissed off by the end of the period i was shaking in the hallway.
i want to crush her stupid HEAD.

i compulsively ate five bags of skittles.

i was very alone today. i hung out with victoria and sierra, sitting between them in the fetal position and freaking out on sleep dep. i was looking around hella paranoid style.

i miss having good days.

there was drama as the halls were evacuated. ceci was pissed at me.
i decided im lame. she decided shes leaving.

and now im going to be by myself.
all the time.

i lose!

buckethead threw toys at me!
and did crazy nun-chaku action!
and robot dances!
and he has a much better command of his carpals und phillanges then has i.
im gonna go practice for like eight hours, now.

so today started with 80 minutes of listening to highschool retards argue abou assisted suicide and abortion. then it REALLY kicked off when my girlfriend screamed at me and flipped me off about an inch from my face.
then she tore some shit up. then i had to talk her out of depression. school was long and tedious.
then i went home, did homework for four hours, got yelled at by my parents.

the end.

i a confession to make. yesterday was my 43rd birthday.
my name is actually margaret clementine adam. my frinds called me marge until i put rat poison in their lemonaide.
quincy had tea. with rat poison.
i live in a trailer in georgia.
i pay rent my considerably small property from an elderly bible salesman named arnold p. wedgewick, who has recently started as a cachier at a the local winn-dixie.
i pay the rent by producing crude daterape drugs in my basement out of household cleaners and childrens tylenol.
i sell them to sexually frustrated local fratboys for a ridiculous price, usually anywhere from 5 cents two 300 bucks.
i love to knit cozys for my kitties, all eighty six of them.
im no good with names, so i just call them all quincy. tea drinking bastard, fuckin greedy asshole.......
my body wight is composed almost entirely from gaudy plastic imitation art neuvou jewelery.
and i live off of human feces.
i can also oraly copulate my own penis, which curves slightly to the right, which is rare if you look into it.
however, i pee sitting down. and i like to whistle a little when i do it.

i am the loneliest human on the planet. just ask god.
he lives in my hair.

i havent done this in a great while.
i been working the late shift about two weeks in a rwo.
so im up till like 1:00.
then my loud as parents get up about three and a half hours later, and wake me up.
so ive been exhausted to all fuck all week. and ive had very little time for homework, so my grades faltered.
but i turned eighteen this week. i invited a bunch of people over on a weekend per my parents request to DO something for my birthday, and absolutely none of them could make it.
so i was like fuck it and i talked to ceci on the phone and ate pizza and rented house of 1000 corpses.
then i worked some more the next day.
later that week the actual day came. i was fucking hella tired, cuz i had zero sleep, went to school for six hours, did math for two and then had a closing shift.
that night my parents grounded me because of my grades.
which they were able to, because my car isnt in my name, the phones arent mine, and GODDAMNIT i still live here.

i am SO happy!
but i have work now.
i miss cecilia!
why would anyone read this?

i will set my shoes aflame.....