jn



[green thin marker] The other day a plant of mine died (Chelsea? A dead plant? Yes, knowing me that's not hard to believe), and I decided it deserved a proper burial... so I wrapped it in the Garden section of the the Sunday Trib (Do ya see the irony? Do ya see?), put it into a shoebox, and then took it down to the dumpster to, well, get rid of it. I stood there, holding the box over the dumpster, and I felt it only appropriate to say a few words of remembrance towards the plant. It was at this point that my strange neighbor guy who lives near our house came out to throw out of bag of trash and, noticing me talking to a shoebox I was about to throw into a dumpster, gave me an odd look. Perhaps I should move. -------------- [blue writing pen] WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! Let's see ... for today, I put up a card in Peter and Tony's room (Trixi's brothers) that said: 'In the Name of God, impure souls of the living dead shall be banished to eternal damnation. Amen.' with a drawing of Seras up on the victim's door. I also gave them some pockey, since Trixi thought that the card was creepy. To make up for the creepyness I gave the pockey. I doubt they'll eat it. I've seen the interior of that room before, heard the music, once or so. it's scary. It reminds me of those weird crafty places. With country music, ja, you know how I mean of to say? they've probably never seen Pockey before in they're lives, let alone heard of it, and they'll probably throw it away, not wanting to eat of anything unfamiliar. I wrote on the pocket I made out of a card for them that it was 'Biskit stik dipped in Strawberry Fudge and highly tasty' (something like that), so they knew what it was, but.... they'll probably give it a queer look and toss it like nuclear waste. Some people are so stupid... heh I set up my precious Totem from Puppet Master IV the top of the locker shelf today with Mario and the mushroom. They look cool. On a side note, Mark wasn't here today, so my day kinda sucked more than usual. --------------- [dull pencil] GAHHH Any way. It's 'happy friend Week' this week in one of my classes. It sucks. We draw someone's name in our class and decorate their locker door, letting them know you think they're cool or something equally stupid. I put up an index card that had a drawing (colored) of Integra that said, "They're Eating my People!!" and then said, 'Happy Friend Week!! From your friendly neighbourhood Alucard.' ((The Bulletin for random things already holds a warning that a 'Wild Alucard in a driving Cap' is loose in the hall)) I wonder what they will think? Most people blew this off. I don't see any new travesties on our door... If they do the decorating job for me like they did him, mark that I will remove them post haste. I cannot stand such frivolity. It sickens me. Anyways. I think for all the doors that I have to decorate, I shall just do the little Hellsing Index cards. that will do. Who shall be next? Seras? Alucard? Or perhaps Anderson? BWAHAHAHA!! (cough) Shall I break into one of my packets of pockey? or no?? I ought to be getting to bed, now. Right. --------------- [dull pencil] Ok. Today really really really sucked. Tragically, it was the 5th time I tried to kill myself. Blah. Mark needs to find help. I cant go on like this anymore. He hurts himself-- he hurts me (not meaning the same way). I find myself in tears each night due this a miserable emotion that has possessed me. He lies to me about all kinds of things, and dares not admit it (I find the truth from people who he manages to share this information with). But I'll deal with it. Blah. [drawing of evil spider on left corner/web design on right corner] --------------- [red thin marker] Today Detten came to school (Yes he came to MY school). He was intoxicated with his usual poison, but he had he audacity to show up in a public place and announce to the world his many issues. Detten simply adds to the list of fears for me. He was hurling fairly inappropriate questions and comments towards me in the main hallway (drawing even more attention both himself and me), so I insisted that we relocate under the stairs more towards the back of the building in an extremely livid tone. Quite to my surprise, we traveled from the main hallway across to the back of the building without Detten being stopped once (damn shitty authority). When we arrived under the stairs, I began telling him to stay away from the school (hesitantly however, for fear of repercussions for my words). I was extremely pissed, however. As I was telling him how embarrassing it was that he appeared at my school, he snapped out of his daze and said (out of NOWHERE) "Hey wanna make out in the bathroom? You got 4th period now, dontcha?" With this, I snapped "Hell no!! I MEAN ... GOD!" I prepared to continue my conversation, but was silenced by his angry fist. I got a black eye and a horrible scar on my back for that little response. I've stopped sleeping. --------------- [blue writing pen] Oi zwitter. I am so sad today, so I shall contain my feelings in this journal. I ran away from home and turned the school into a shelter for a small amount of time. After the school bell dismissed me from my last class, I was forced to stay after the selected hours of school to serve a detention. After school, Detten stool by my locker waiting for me. I told him i'd be right back, and as I turned the corner, I gained speed. I walked faster than ever and then broke into a sprint (I tried not to look too obvious in that I was running for fear of my previous boyfriend and his dreadful ways). I got to a bathroom on the other side of the building and locked the door. Luckily, no one came to the door anyways. I slept for about an hour (after about 3 hours of sitting on the floor thinking), and then I got up and started wondering what to do at that point. I was scared. I didnt have my backpack (meaning I didnt have any money or anything at all) and my family had probably already informed the police upon the absence. At 2:00 AM, I began walking from the school to Marks house being very inconspicuous (if that's at all possible). I didnt want to go to his house, but I didnt know anyone else who would allow me into their house at that time of night. I was terrified to go home (there are issues at home as well that I began thinking about, which made me not want to go back ... ever). When I got to Marks house, the lights were on. (The cops had apparently already been to the house). I talked to Mark and his mom for quite some time, and then we came to a conclusion that it would be best if I stay the rest of the night. In the morning, Marks mom brought me to the police station and stated that she found me sleeping in her car, which she left unlocked. I agreed. I went home. Detten's back. Great. --------------- [black writing pen] I have a black eye, a bleeding cut in my back, a burning spot below my neck in the back, and a blackish-purple bruise swelling on the top of my leg. Its amazing what make-up and a sweatshirt will cover. When Detten came back to school to apologize, I tried to say "No! ITS OK! GO AWAY!" ... but he he just HAD to give me an enormous hug. I ache from that gesture of kindness. --------------- [sloppy, black marker] i cant believe its 3 AM. ive stopped sleeping completely. i havent sleeped in 2 weeks. ill get used to it. --------------- [black, neat pen] -- The following letter was given to nearly every member of the CHS drumline (some refused to read) written by me. Of those who did read, 7 people agreed with me fully. Here is the exact letter: "Gross incompetence and diminishing goals poison the air of this autocratically run class as I discovered, after questioning the policies and ethics of this infamous teacher, who bears a tag which reads 'Bell' in red letters. This educator truly believes that everything that he audaciously declares is always correct due to his high authoritative position, as the instructor of our high school drumline. He feels that a contradiction to his supreme opinion is pure absurdity and inanity. He believes that a person who is not as the same occupational level is automatically incorrect. He shoots people down and criticizes them individually and on a personal level. This must come to an end, whether the lines of unjust action are brought to an end simply by me alone, or others that support my opinion." --------------- [dull pencil] I cried in front of Toby today... well, not really cried, but my eyes watered, which is about as far as I go. I mean, I was still talking rationally, continuing the conversation--no voice cracks or sniffles or any of that pathetic shit. Still though... it's really annoying. He's never seen me tear up before. Never! And he'd gotten all misty eyed when talking about MY problems before, so i used to have the upper hand of nonchalance there... now I've lost it. Damn it all. --------------- [black, neat pen] School has started up again. My problems have multiplied. Detten comes more often because he's now friends with Jason and Toby. Great. On the other hand, there's a guy in my 1st period class who I think is hott, and another in my last period class. I cant stand Mark anymore. His mum calls the day after we see a movie at 11:00 at night to gripe about how we arent doing enough stuff together, and how mark was in tears over it all. Honestly, when I heard her complaining about the little amount of time we had been spending together, I was thinking it was too much. Im loosing my mind. --------------- [orange marker] I dislike my dad. I dislike his hypocrisy, I dislike his narrow outlook, I dislike his biases, I dislike his "holier than thou" attitude, I dislike his actions (which are based purely on personal feelings rather than logic), I dislike his voice, I dislike how he's never around, I dislike his mannerisms, I dislike the way he walks down the stairs: fast clomping thuds, the space between lessening with each step until there is a perpetual shaking that dominates the house. Then he stomps over to here, the sacred location of Mac. I freeze every time I hear him coming, whether to distract me, to kick me out, or hovering above me, casting a great shadow over the keyboard. I imagine hiding the keyboard! I think "YEAH! I'll HIDE it from him! As soon as I'm done here, I'll take back the keyboard and the mouse and hide them somewhere in my room. Then I'll make him beg, rationalize, sum up why he needs to use the computer, ask for lengths of time and carefully survey the usage!" Yeah I dislike my dad but I dont hate him Toby. --------------- [dull pencil] Oi jippie! I think I am falling in love with this guy in my photojournalism class!! Every time he asks me a simple question, I go berserk and freak out with nervousness. He must think I'm a fucking moron! I wont write his name to you, journal, until Im sure though. (I told Mark to meet me before school so I could ... talk to him) --------------- [blue writing pen] He had beautiful eyes upon intimate inspection, especially when he held them in a state of wonderment and happiness. But that look of happiness would be gone soon, so I remembered to turn away quickly. He questioned my sudden and sharp movement, and then I told him pathetically that it was over (although it had basically already ended after he unintentionally told me that he was deeply in love with Maddie, rather than me). In the same day, I beat up Detten when he stumbled to me as I gathered books from my locker. Everyone saw it and those who had seen him hurt me previously rejoiced in a cheer for me. I felt somewhat free and it seemed to me that things were finally looking up. --------------- [dull pencil] As I look down at the pink detention slip blankly, I begin humming a song I heard Matt singing yesterday. I remember watching him listen to his CD player with his eyes closed watching him sing the words to the songs in his head and I realized that I really am in love with him. Constantly, I' thinking of things to say to him but I can never seem to say these things. I would give anything in the world to be able to just hug him give thanks for making my life so much better. Today, Matt said he likes the bands Factory 81 and Taproot. I shall now make it my mission to purchase the following CDs before any other: Factory 81 - Mankind* and Taproot - Gift --------------- [black, neat pen] I saw Mark this morning after a week. Y'know, since we broke up, I smile a great deal more. When I saw him, he was wearing the same outfit he had been wearing for practically an entire week before we broke up (the solid white outfit). I smiled when I saw him. When I looked into his face while passing him, I noted the dark circles beneath his eyes. I noticed that his hair was a bit too long in need of a haircut. I noticed that his eyes were more dull than before. Had these imperfections always been there was I just noticing them? I believe that if you cant see imperfections in the person you are in love with, the relationship is doomed. Maybe that was the downfall. --------------- [sloppy black marker] It seems that I bore Matt a great deal. I'm starting to think that every time I speak to him, he is thinking, deep in his mind, about what an incredibly uninteresting and irritating creature I am. I desperately need to know what he thinks of me because all of this is eating away at my brain, and making it more awkward to speak to him. I shouldn't care. I really shouldn't. --------------- [blue writing pen] In my continuation of lists of things that are real - though understandably sound fake - I now give you the worst names of towns in the United States. And yes, these too are real, and were found on Mapquest.com. -Crappo, MD -Stupid Creek, OR -Bad Wound, SD -Ugly Mountain, WV -Lame Deer, MT -Chubby Island, TX -Smelley, AL (yes, that's the spelling) -Boogertown, NC -Pussy's Pond, NY -Dildo Key, KL (I wish I was making that one up) -Wounded Knee, SD -Deadly, OR -Horny Head Creek, TN -Screw Creek, MT --------------- [dull pencil, sloppy handwriting] Oi Zwitter. I asked Casie what Matt thinks of me yesterday. Casie is a friend of mine who I frequently approach when issues are plaguing my mind, in hopes of advice. "He just wants to be friends." she replied intuitively. Owch. --------------- [neat, black pen] "I don't give a crap if I fail this test or not." I stood up and pushed my seat back from my desk causing it's hind legs to shriek against the floor. I was feeling impulsive, angry, and destructive. The sun came in through the school windows, giving the classroom a sense of health and livelihood. It was in the middle of class; a few kids looked back at me, others just continued with their tests and ignored me. I stood in front of her and held the test up to her chest as if it was a knife, or a dagger, but I did not dare slay her. She looked at me. I looked at the paper, eyes sure not to dart into hers. Two forces meet. Two sides of a rope are drawn to the same line. She moved back an inch, took the papers, and said "Fine, it's your decision." She did not move for me, but moved out of the aisle to address another test-takers question. I was free to go. I was almost tempted to look back before walking out the door. All those other kids followed obediently under her supervision. They kept their heads down. They submitted. I walked out and rejoiced in the emptiness of the hallways outside. Maybe life would be so much easier for me if I gave a fuck. --------------- [sloppy, black marker] Maybe I should forget about Matt. Hes smarter, and he is amazingly awesome so I guess hes better than me. Heh I must have been ... stupid ... for thinking a person like Matt would like a person like ... me. Eesh ... what was I thinking [giant decorated question mark/drawing of Matt] --------------- [blue writing pen] Jon and I were clothes shopping today when I walked past a couple in their 30s. The man held up this really ugly shirt and asked his wife, "What do you think honey?" Her face scrunched up and she said, "Eh, it looks a little too much like a Bernie Mac shirt for you." Here, for you enjoyment (...or not), is a list of actual books. I found these at Barnes & Noble.com. I didn't have homework (again) tonight, so I decided to continue on with my fun lists! Honestly...I'm not making these up. Really. --Slappy's Nightmare --God Uses Cracked Pots --I Don't Have Any Paper So Shut Up --Bellybuttons Are Navels --Captain Cupid Calls The Shots --I Love You Stinky Face --Stop Female Genital Mutilation --Saved By Soup --Why Do White People Smell Like Dogs When They Come Out Of The Rain? --Someone Is Buying The Zoo --Jews From Outter Space --Mauve: How One Man Invented A Color That Changed The World --------------- [neat, black pen/decorative handwriting] I started using Black Non-erasable marker on my arms. I drew things ... made believe it was permanent; traced invisible images of pain on my forearm. (I drew a flower on my best friends forearm but neglected to tell her that the magic marker was evil.) I never understood why people penned images on themselves; it's toxic, for one, and secondly, most had terrible drawing skills, so it always looked bad. But now I know the pleasure of tracing invisible images. Show Flaw. Show Flaw. Show flaws on the outside so the inside is sacred. Yes. --------------- [sloppy, black marker] I was walking down the street today, kinda near where Jason used to live (in the apartments) and saw a small cardboard sign taped to the apartment building wall: "Dear Bike Thief, if you change your mind and don't like my bike, please return it no questions asked. Here's the key if you need it." Ah...if only life were that simple. --------------- [sloppy, dull pencil] I'm sitting in Photojournalism. 25 minutes ago, the bell rang and everyone was in the class. Now, the class is missing one person. Has been for 20 minutes. Matt. Hes been gone for 20 minutes. When the bell rang, I noticed Matt looked bored. I asked him if he had any homework. He didnt answer. He kinda dazed off. I felt sad, somewhat. I asked again, and Michael put his headphones on to listen to Bush. Matt got up and asked the teacher if he could go to the restroom, and she let him. Hes been gone for 20 minutes. I'm driving him away. Eesh. --------------- [red thin marker] I just watched a hawk tear into a squirrel in front of an old apartment complex. I was walking home, and suddenly there was a fluttering of wings and a roll of fur, and whoosh! -- the hawk had pinned a fat, wriggling gray squirrel to the ground with its talons. Initially, just me and a random guy saw it happen, but the scene drew a crowd pretty quickly. It isn't every day a rapturous bird breakfasts on one of our little woodland friends. I'm still not quite sure how I feel about the whole incident. Part of me is fascinated with the hawk, this beautiful defiant creature with outstretched wings, just daring one of us to take away her meal. Part of me understands that this is the way of things, that carnivores like myself need to eat, and that one squirrel is less than a hamburger in the grand scheme of things. But part of me sees that little furry body writhing in pain, ripped open a little at a time, bleeding to death and eaten alive under a tree of screaming birds; and this part of me wants to throw rocks at the hawk until she is no longer beautiful, but mangled as this unsuspecting rodent. The iron smell of blood is still in my nostrils, and I am not so sure I believe all squirrels must die. If they must, I don't want to be there when it happens. --------------- [green/orange markers] So if this isn't irony, I don't know what is. I was at the Apple website because, honestly, I want an iMac and I want it bad. So I'm reading the stories and watching all the ads they have there in their Switch section about real people who switched to the new Mac. And as I'm doing this, the Blue Screen of Death comes up (fatal error, blah, blah, blah!) My computer is trying to sabotage me. Now I'm afraid that it knows I want to get rid of it! This is not a pleasant situation. [drawing of ideal computer] --------------- [sloppy, black marker] I watched Matt today. Photojournalism again. While Tony and Michael talked about cars, I looked up and saw him smile readily. I could not perceive a word any of them spoke all was blurred but him. He smiles and laughs and it makes me smile in return. I realize he can most likely see me examining him, so my eyes darted downward to the book I had been reading. I continued the monotonous work, but smiled to myself every other moment, reminiscing that moment. --------------- [orange thin marker] Today is a great day! The week seemed to drag on, but finally Friday has arrived! Unfortunately, I am forced to finish developing my pictures in photojournalism, so I will not be able to stare off at Matt during class as usual but its still going to be a great day. [red grading pen] It's still Friday, only instead of being the same bright and sunny Friday as it was just hours ago, it has turned to a stormy gray. Everything was fine until I met up with Casie. We talked on the bus talked about guys she thought were hott, and stupid things she sees Mark do. We frequently talk about Matt, as well. I was still slightly unhappy with her for telling me that she had gone out with Matt not too far back, but not as much. Maybe it wasnt the fact that she told me, but more of the fact that he loved her greatly at one point of time. She had what I envied. As we talked, she began to list people who Matt was friends with and she named Hillary as the only girl in the list. She seemed to emphasize the name, as if she wished for me to question. When I finally asked her, she concealed a creeping smile. "Matt likes Hillary!" she exclaimed in such a way that make me believe she had been practicing the line many times, waiting to shoot me with it. My heart cracked inside, and my eye twitched once and then twice when she turned around and faced the beaming sun that shone through the front window. When the bus halted swiftly at her stop, she broke the lingering silence by saying "Bye!" cheerfully. My eye twitched thrice more, and she ignored this and exited the bus. --------------- [blue writing pen] Have you ever looked at something so brilliant it made you feel like nothing? A musician so talented he made you want to cut off your fingers, or rip out your vocal cords? A piece of writing so good it made you want to burn everything you'd ever penned? A person so beautiful she made you want to carve plain in your forehead and walk around veiled for the rest of your life? Yeah. Me too. My life isn't bad, just insipid. My mother says I'm boring, that I think I'm not as good as everyone else as well. Maybe I am. Maybe I do. I don't think I'm awful. But isn't being mediocre -- at everything -- almost as bad? I look around and see my friends -- motivated, successful, adored, talented, capable -- and then there's me. My mother says I don't want to work, and that's true, which is why I'll end up with those crappy jobs peddling useless junk to unsuspecting consumers. Or unemployed, which I am now. I don't have the chutzpah to pull off anything daring, and I don't have the talent to pull off anything impressive. So where does that leave me? Why, here of course. Exactly where I don't want to be. I see everyone around me either competent, happy, or oblivious, and I wonder why everything I touch fizzles out or blows up in my face. Relationships, mostly, but other things as well -- academic projects, friendships, hobbies. I'm like Midas in reverse. Either that or like Echo -- immaterial, empty, and inconsequential. I see people out in the world, making a difference in their communities and in the lives of other people, while I sit at home and read Poe. I have no conviction, no backbone, no courage. I might as well be a jellyfish, cluttering up the shoreline with all the other useless blobs of flesh. And then there are the others, the ones who are genuinely screwed up and have valid reasons for complaining. I look at their lives, and feel like a whiny brat. "Look at yourself" I say, "you're healthy, and well-fed, with days upon days of leisure time. Shut up and quit crying" . But I don't. I stay the same infantile drama-poser I've always been. If it weren't for that damn lingering optimism of mine, I'd have done the smart thing and killed myself a long time ago. Yes, this is my infantile, attention-grabbing melodrama of the moment. But as I said, my life is insipid, so it's the best I have to offer. If you want something meaningful, look elsewhere, 'cause honey, meaning has not been coming round of late. --------------- [black, ballpoint pen] He leaned against the flagpole--his dark, smokey clothing pressed against his body blending perfectly into the colorless, melancholic background surrounding the prison-like structure of my school ... and he asked in a ghostly manner with ambivalent voice, invoking a subtle potency of elation, "Yes or no?". and oh how I smiled as I carefully combed his golden hair out of his glittering eyes, preparing to respond.