i have been very very ill. like, not being able to walk or move or be awake and not vomit every other second, ill. it really sucks. that and the fact i went to the lamest party after the supreme court of canada thing and had a truly miserable time. it felt like i was on crack. i shoulda stayed the fuck home. i have eaten all the popsicles in the world and a jillion saltines and i still feel like butt. i have to make my dad a bday card, too. i don’t have any fancy paper. ahh i’ll just do it tomorrow.
1:18pm
i feel ten times better. though, my insides feel all dried-out and empty and gurgly. i have to take a train ride to the ‘burbs to see the folks and have them all avoid touching or standing within 2 feet of me. yay.
if i have to write one more cheque, my eyes will shoot out muriatic acid!
Sunday, February 5, 1995.
I dumped Casey a long, long, long time ago! He’s such a moron, a geek, a loser, a nerd all in one. I only talked to him a couple times on the phone. I hardly knew him! But once i got to know him, I was disgusted.
Anyways: On Friday Alex’s mom picked me up, and drove me to their house. At 7:30pm we all left the house to go to Laser Quest. There was this one babe there, he was about 16 or 17. We were always shooting each other. He even called ME a CHICK! I sound sooo much like a geek! After that we went back to the house and I slept over. In the morning I went to Alex’s drama class. They’re putting on The Wizard of Oz of the 90’s. Alex is Dorothy. Oh right, my name for Laser Tag was Kurt. NIRVANA RULES!! RAP SUCKS!!!!
ps. I kinda like this guy in french immersion. Guess who.
wednesday was a total write off. so out of commission. i couldn’t say anything to anyone. stayed up all nite long pacing and lying down and pacing then finally decided i needed to get fucked up and so i did and then stayed up all nite long and then my roommate girl was in pain pain pain so we rode an ambulance to the hospital in where i sat in almost every chair and position to try and stop my head from feeling stabbing pains and girl was on a gurney bed – turns out it is gastrointestinal virus and i will probably get it because i have dumb luck and then i went home to eat chinese food and watch the cat tear the shit out of my chair and my 200 dollar jacket arrived in the mail finally. i haven’t even brushed my teeth or had a bath and i made some plans with people but i keep falling asleep and not taking a bath and now it is 1:36am and no one is around to talk to me so you can all go blow. go blow.
i saw jackass for the second time the day before yesterday. tuesday. it is still funny.
so i wanted to get myself a job last nite but i went about it in all the wrong ways. i sat at the bar and i chainsmoked and i drank double gin&tonics by myself and i scribbled in my journal and i wouldn’t tell the barpeople what about and i was neurotic and nervous and scared and i dunno if they were all fags so my sexy charms would be of no use and finally i ask is the manager in, i was drunk, surly, he said no i said, gimme my bill….then went to the pizza place late late and really wanted to steal their artwork but was talked out of it. i was. now it is not yet noon, i was up ’til 6am watching downloaded simpsons episodes and reading the kurt cobain book and i finally got a call back from the crazy people but i didn’t pick it up in time so alas, i must wait ’til 4 o’clock to say, yes yes, no no, yes, no, yes and finally get a new appointment after what’s been the longest, shittiest wait.
lookit theeeeeeeseeeee and this louisville dude will learn you all about, Louisville. go figure. and so i was thinking got mysterious stuff in his laundry. aaaand…sumo-pop just doesn’t have very many friends…
me trying to stick out my tummy and rest it on the counter but ending up lookin’ like an alien.
i can’t fucking believe i am awake drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. it is 6:35am. 6:35am!!
i decided, you know, i am awake. i may as well stay awake and make coffee. i even bought sugar cubes and 1 per cent milk to do this.
now it is 6:45am. i just went to the bathroom. i am talking to antidisestablishmentarian on msn. i told him i would go to the bathroom with a cigarette in my mouth. and then i did.
now i am listening to ron sexsmith’s strawberry blond. it is a pretty song.
before i forget. what are you doing this friday if you live in Toronto? oh, that’s right. you’ll be at 483 church street eating loads of free food and drinking free booze with me and these dudes. i have a part in this filmthing that really doesn’t make any sense but it is done with super8 and i am wearing old man clothes and i am in high park with a dude in a bunny suit and i am hung over and stupid. go to it. nov.29th.
i was reading love is a dog from hell by bukowski on the can. tyranny lent it to me. that fool still has other books of mine. lending things out to people gives me great anxiety sometimes, while others, i am like, whatever. these things don’t own me. they have a history and they will go on to be loved and read and shared and that’s the way it should be.
black girl roommate and i bought these things from the supermarket – crap carrot/apple juice, blue kool-aid, strawberries, milk, sugar cubes, bread, water, baby corns…i forget the rest. the cashier was mad at us and her arm was hurting so i did a little dance and started to light my cigarette and i bought a homie from the gumball machine but i already had that homie so i was mad. no. dissappointed. is that how i spell dissappointed? whatever. that word is messed up anyway.
now me and antidisestablishmentarian are talking about homies and the homie dogs! holy shit, type “homies” in a google image search and lookit all the awesome pictures of people and their dumb friends posing as homies!
anti says:
i always just gave away the homies i already had to pretty girls
r le minx says:
aww
r le minx says:
keep that shit for yourself
anti says:
no way, how can you beat, “i got this homie for you…” ?
anti says:
perfect icebreaker
r le minx says:
totally
r le minx says:
yah
r le minx says:
well i have them on my windowsill so when i bring boys home they see em right away
r le minx says:
and then they know it is safe to have sex with me
anti says:
and you’re only cool if you gettem from the gumball machines….
i am really glad i didn’t do any drugs last nite. it was real close. but i didn’t give in. probably because the dude didn’t ever show up and i was loaded and playing that megatouch bar game that takes all my money. my friend mel, threw a vegetarian american thanksgiving and i drank all the wine and was probably the most obnoxious person at the dinner party. everyone was so proper in their sweaters and wool socks. buhh. i brought my drunk roommate and her girlyfriend and we sat on the couch being asstards and i said, “this is SO grade 8 schoolbus ride” and everyone laughed more and i almost choked to death on my stuffing. i swiped this clear display case thing from the streets and brought it over. it is still on mel’s front porch. sorry mel. then we went to the bistro and drank more and i learned that this guy brought home a pre-op transexual the same nite i did but he was more fucked up from it than i was. well he didn’t really go home with the person, moreso, made out with ‘em and ended up in mississauga. i said, if i ever do coke again, just punch me in the eyes. maybe that is why he never came back. Tyranny came over the other nite too and we shared oxys and it was great. went to shag magazine’s launch party and no one checked me out. i thought, hmm, i will have sex with anyone who talks to me. no one did. ‘cept for gay joel who really isn’t gay but has a girlfriend. i was so sore from disco dancing. raymi is in love with the spy.
my mum really really really hates these pictures. she thinks i don’t have respect for myself. and other things.
i love my body and i shouldn’t be made to feel shamed for being all naked. jesus.
november 16 2002 12:05pm
i’ve been up 25 hours and counting, as you might imagine i’m a bit edgy or jumpy rather – dxm never again coke e and all that other shit has gotta go too. my eyelids weigh 3 thousand pounds. trying not to vomit watching simpsons sorta. definitely an experience. fuck i’m losing my shit. i can’t sleep. i need to sleep. i am tired of this fuckin’ trip TIREDTIREDTIRED! TIRED!
i found out that i wasn’t an artist. that summer i am just thirteen and everything sucks. you big puff. tomorrow you will wake up alive and that is all that matters. tomorrow you will wake up with air in your lungs and your heart will beat a new tune. i just don’t want to deal anymore with bad things bad people bad everything. mild malaise. dysthymia allows an appearance of normalcy because it becomes, over time, a part of life. i am the walking wounded. if they were manic depressives, they worked out of hypomania, the productive precursor to a manic phase which allows a peak of creative energy to flow. but, depression is pure dullness, tedium straight up.
hardware store hell
i look out the doorway onto the street and i think i won’t be here 3 hours from now so it doesn’t matter. i will be away from this place, this store, this life.
i had to go somewhere with the premise of actually accomplishing something other than getting baked on the beach.
fell over a lot last nite. illegal boozecans. magicians. things you shouldn’t indulge in anymore. giving all your money away. the ultimate low. sleeping your day away. married on the beach. velvet drapes. need to do laundry. RAGBRAI. never eating perogies ever again. am i a junky? i am not a junky. time to wash my pants. the cat attacked my hand. tomorrow can be worse. yes i’m classy. yes i’m fancy. yes i love kevin spacey in the last twenty minutes of seven. oh to look at you in a cab, back of your head across my lap. it’s hard to understand, but the touch of your hand, can start me crying. fuckers. she’s a walking pharmacy. you don’t even need hate to have a perfectly miserable time. day after day wearing down everybody who gets near me. every guy i meet turns into jesus christ within twenty-four hours of meeting them. you seem like maybe you’re too intense for this world. but then i never had to worry about a crash landing because i never took off. you don’t need drugs. what you really need is close, caring relationships. you need to trust somebody. you need to think people are okay. she is the rain.you are global. i lose everything. i am a plane crash. she would just lie in her bed, staring at pink walls, taking pink pills that the nurse in white would give her. between the green pills and the yellow ones. and all these blues. but i can be your best friend. people tend to go crazy when they don’t even have a container of milk in the refrigerator. i myself am hell. us you them. i want my brain annihilated. Mellaril, an antipsychotic, a medication that’s been known to help schizophrenics during their visionary episodes, a major tranquilizer in the same family as Thorazine, blocking the receptor sites in your brain which connect facts with feelings. he was positively dapper. completely ass-backwards. listen to any unhappy person tell his tale of woe, and it sounds like every other tale of woe.
still she said relax and i said i wish.
the whole bunch of them can go blow as far as i’m concerned.
by then, i was a perfect weirdo by any standard. think so maybe. alcohol and drugs also mask a type of depression that is not so very different from my own. bickering about something that in measurable terms did not exist. i just hid in my room languishing in an increasingly morose state. it was as if she were part of the chorus in a Greek tragedy and this was the big funeral scene. i don’t want to deal with me. not sleeping, not even trying to sleep. i have that boozy and bruise-eyed look. taking drugs breeds taking more drugs. i was magnanimous and gregarious and all that stuff. i need the thing that happens when your brain shuts off and your heart turns on. i will be your little boy. i am okay. theme from twin sheiksr. until you are actually flying out of a window, you don’t have a problem. maybe i want to look cheap. she thought she looked just fine. her friends were all impressed by her sophistication.
Saturday, June 11, 1994 3:23pm – in the car -
My mom, dad, brother and I are going to Mike&Lena’s house. Our cousin Jeremy is there, too. We are going swimming. We are also going to eat dinner there too.
I’ll write back later. (MAYBE!)
ps. School is almost over!
pps. Yeah!
this world. i tell you. i appreciate this anger. generally, jealousy alludes me. i just get pissed off. what pissed off feels like: hot-bubbly fire in your temples, the pounding of tambourines against your skull and a tight knot in the pit of your belly. everyone here is an artfag and a boy and i’m just a girl. billets et bagages. no deliveries 11:30am-2:00pm. gnova kel villa norman grisley quiet slums. subdued, oblivious-like yet very much aware of my surroundings. where’s the chicken head?/i will kill you in your sleep/this is a haiku. here we are again at the beginning. i am in commuter hell forever damned and sucked into the ocean of stampeding suits. everywhere you go/they’re expecting greatness/everywhere you turn. october 18 2000.
running wild. dreaming until your eyeballs pop. october 19 2000.
thinking to himself/why have the gods cursed my name/bad days forever
we are all slaving for causes we don’t believe in. collectively getting nowhere.
i can’t do this if your heart belongs to someone else.
i am pissed off all over the place today.
october 26 2000. different girls wearing the same shoes sitting beside each other in the cafe.
people who have had someone close to them die
are special people
be nice to them
listen to them speak
they are beautiful
-raymi
i will never forget watching that man jump from 50 stories up and explode when he hit the ground.
i was 4 years old.
i will never forget watching television when i was 3 years old about 6 in the morning in florida.
and having lemon meringue pie for dessert on the airplane.
i will not ever forget making people cry and feeling horrible for it.
and my birthday goodbye party in maine and making all this lobster and not being able to eat any of it and havin to wear old lady sunglasses to hide my face.
i will never forget what it feels like to be upside-down on a rollercoaster and being on an airplane when it is taking off and thinking i might die today and it is ok because i am strapped into this seat and i am eating pretzels.
i will never forget the feeling i felt when my parents found out i was dating a 29 yr. old and i was only 16 and it was like this intense slow motion consuming fear.
i will never forget being told to get lost by all the popular kids in grade 6 after i got caught talking shit about all of them behind their backs.
and then they begged for my forgiveness and i went on to be the valedictorian.
so there.
btw – if you know of a cathy garcia. please tell her i think about her sometimes.
