im in absolute disgust with this cesspool.
a man comes in to the store i work in. he has a wheelchair with a dog. the dog is tangeld on a short leash that keeps it more or less directly between and under the back two wheels. it cowers constantly so it can breath. it's mouth is strapped shut. when he moves he more or less drags it around. so i go to chris (co-manager/bossman) and say"theres a man in a wheelchair with a dog...he doesnt look blind?"
chris gets angry at me. he gets PISSED OFF at ME.
he says its...i dont know, assisting the man somehow?
and i say "oh. okay. just making sure its alright."
cuz, you know, its not wierd enough what hes doing to this animal, he's in a freaking grocery store.
and i try real hard not to say something along the lines of, "oh, so it helps him WALK when hes not fucking STRANGLING it?"
and i walk away in a very bad mood.
im losing faith in mankind.
this store is ridiculous, trying to maintain this professional attitude in the face of these psycotic tweakers.
im sick of meth unemployed meth addicts getting free checks from the government courtesy of taxpayers, then they come and give me shit.

later, a woman comes in, i take her merch out for her. shes one of those in the earlier stages, out of experience with these people i'd say shes about late twenties, early thirties, but looks a haggard fourty.
she taps me on the shoulder and tells me a hot girl is checking me out. without thinking, without hesitation, without glancing at this 'hot girl,' i politely tell her im gay.

ceci 1
gtown 0

i kind of want brandi to buy me a bottle. but if cecilia cant drink, then SOMEONE has to support that. and she...doesnt live with that someone appearently.

god im an asshole. but im not a drunken asshole.

im not going to sleep well tonight. if a tall.

/)/)
( ..)
C(")(")


SO i need to graduate. SO im doing a paper. and i dont know how i can turn this 1 3/4 pages into 4. no idea. so i shall turn in 2 pages and speak to Funkmaster Chollet and beg for his infinate wisdom to assist me in jumping through his ridiculous curicilum-required hoop.

my bathroom has been torn appart. most of it is now in the dining room. i got to shower last night after four days. for whatever reason i started to smell like vagina? oh well. that was the greatest shower EVER! my itchy head got all better.

anyways....so. civics. the final is memorization of the pre-amble. ms babcock says it will be fun. she also says muslims do not value human life at all. and she says japanese internment camps are okay, because emperor Kung-Mao bombed pearl harbor. and i lol and i say "WRONG-O!!!" somebody obviously doesnt know fuck about shit, and she should shut up when she talks to me.


i. am. moving. the. fuck. OUT!

oh my god....i have an erection! This is fanctastic!

then all mad-hatter style i say "glorious day! kaloo kalay!"

and go do some more homework.
aint life a bitch?

dear diary....
if you had me locked in a room for twenty four hours.......and the motorcycle had only one helmet and no brakes....and you said you didnt love me and i gave you a note....and amercrombe and fitch told people to die....................youd fuck me, right?

okay, so yesterday, my car caught on fire. the wheel tried to come off. all this at about 50 mph.
im glad ceci wasnt around for that part.
mi padre wasnt even mad!
it were pert cool. except i have no car now. so i have to figure out where all my money goes.

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.