Based On A True Story....Love, War and Zombies

PRETTY POINTLESS, IF YOU ASK ME.......BUT WHATEVER



" Chaos was what killed the dinosaurs, darling "- J.D., Heathers

"I mean," she said, "that one can't help growing older." "One can't perhaps, "said Humpty Dumpty, "but two can. With proper assistance, you might have left off at seven."
-Lewis Carroll, Through The Looking Glass

"I cannot work in a house where there are alligators. I would have told you this before but I didn't suppose the question would ever come up."
-Dorothy Parker's maid

"This wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death. One of us has to go".
-Oscar Wilde's last words


"Faux Poes Foes"
-Kirk, Gilmore Girls


A few lines of the 5 page poem/concussion/late night delusion, I churned out in a trance last night:


GOLDFISH GIRL...
I Am A Goldfish Girl,
I Threw My Wretched Life Away.
In A Fishbowl, I`m On Display.
Naked In A Window Pane For All To See
Who Could Ever Love A Thing Like Me?

The real thing goes on and on about love and comdemnation, and politcal issues. It sucks, but it's just another thing I've tried to write that came out as a picture of me. It's really more vulgar than I thought my writting could be. Maybe I'll put it up here. I have no morals.

So....

a kink in my plans, But I didn't actually get to the store to get any Valentine's candy this year. Sad (wipes tear from eyes)...Well, I'll have extra mini eggs for Easter. Why are all these holidays linked to mass consumerism and teeth rotting and obesity causing goodness? And why is all they candy so good? (I Know That You Want The Candy- The Raveonettes)

In a strange twist of fate, I ended up celebrating Valentines, the day of love, by watching people die. Yay for horror movies!

First Boogeyman 3 (not horrible- some original deaths, a guy with an accent, and totally fake looking blood), then The Messengers (if the house wasn't haunted it'd be so pretty to live in, what with all the sunflowers), and later, The original campy The Hitcher from 1986 (a laugh riot comedy with overacting and mullets! I haven't laughed this hard since the Exorcist!), and the more horror movie 'serious' 2007 remake.

For some reason, the Kid in the 80's version loves saying his full name. I will never forget, What's his name again? (Jim Halsey, Jim Halsey, Jim Halsey).
For sure he'd show up at "Winston's Underage Booze Party"(From Cabin Fever)

There's even a moral to the story- 'always listen to your mother', evidenced as when he's letting the Hitchhiker into his car, he says "My mother told me to never do this." And rebel, that he is, of course he doesn't listen. Speaking of Mothers, remind me never to watch a horror movie with my mom again.The entire time, she's sitting there screaming Shoot Him, even when the bad guy rst appears and he hasn't shown that he's evil yet. Annoying, much?


But seriously, the original version does have something scary, on the remake. The original Hitcher, John Ryder (the bad guy) is fairly unremarkable in appearance (well, except for his piercing blue eyes), he could just be any old drunk guy who leers at you on the street, but is basically considered harmless. Right away, he doesn't seem scary, he seems like somebody you could know. So characteristic of a sociopath.

In the remake, John Ryder is played by one of those actors with an evil/intimidating face. You could just see him and be scared of him. But real life's not like this, the evil guys don't go out with stamps on thier forheads proclaiming their alliances, or intentions. Imagine a sign that said EVIL!

Sadly, we decide that some is good or evil purely based on appearance...It's sad how much we rely on our perceptions. It's cliche, but it's true. We like to judge the book by its cover.



" Interrogation Sergeant: What's your name? Come on. What's your name? Do you have a name? Do you have a police record? Where are you from?
John Ryder: Disneyland."

- 80's Hitcher



Why are people in horror movies so amazingly stupid? They're mostly late teenagers, or early adults, and I have to wonder, how did they ever live this long?

Here's some internet random's list of rules for surviving:

1. When it appears you have killed the monster, NEVER check to see if it's really dead.

2. Never read a book of demon summoning aloud, even as a joke.

3. Do not go search for something in the basement, especially if the power has just gone out.

4. If your children speak to you in Latin or any other language which they should not speak, or if they speak to you using a voice which is not their own, shoot them immediately. It will save you the grief in the long run. *NOTE* It will probably take several rounds to kill them, so be prepared.

5. When you have the benefit of numbers, NEVER pair off or go alone.

6. As a general rule, don't solve puzzles that open portals to Hell.

7. Never stand in, on, above, below, beside or anywhere near a grave, tomb, crypt, mausoleum or any other house of the dead.

8. If you are searching for something which caused a loud noise and you find out it's just the cat, leave the room immediatey if you value your life.


9. If appliances start operating by themselves, move out. Do not take *anything* from the dead.

10. If you find a town which looks deserted, it's probably for a good reason. Take the hint and stay away.

11. Do not fool around with recombinant DNA technology unless you're sure you know what you are doing.

12. If you're running away from the monster, expect to trip or fall down at least twice, more if you are of the female persuasion. Also note that despite the fact that you are running and the monster is merely shambling along, it's still moving fast enough to catch up with you.

13. If your companions suddenly begin to exhibit uncharacteristic behavior such as hissing, developing a fascination with blood, glowing eyes, foaming at the mouth and increasing hairiness, get away from them as fast as possible.

14. Stay away from certain geographical locations. Such as: Amityville, Elm Street, Transylvania, Nilbog, the Bermuda Triangle or any small town in Maine.

15. If your car runs out of gas late at night, do not go to the nearby deserted looking house to call for help. Likewise if your car has broken down, and the only refuge for miles is that creepy old mansion/castle on the hill. Stay in the car.

16. Beware of strangers bearing tools such as chainsaws, staple guns, hedge trimmers, electric carving knives, lawnmowers, butane torches, smoldering irons, band saws or any device made from deceased companions.

17. Listen closely to the soundtrack and pay attention to the audience. They are usually far more intelligent than you could ever hope to be. Never listen to music that contains staccato shrieking violins.

18. If you are a woman, never strip and take a shower in slow motion.

19. Do not keep all your sharpened kitchen knives in one of those wooden block thingies on your worksurface.

20. The first woman to either lose or remove her clothing is dead meat. The guy with the testosterone overdose is also dead meat. Along with the guy that is always making jokes

21. When you are searching a house because you think there is something dangerous there, turn on the damn lights!

22. Never back out of one room into another without looking. It's always behind you.

23. If you are traveling with friends, never let any hitch hikers into the van with you. It'll be the worst (if not the last) day of your life.

24. Never babysit.There are enough babysitter-in-danger-thanks-to-a-stupid-killer flicks out there already. If you ARE stupid enough to babysit, never try on the mom's nightgown collection. You'll only end up showing more skin. Remember: Skin=Death.

25. If you are being chased, never lean against the wall when you think you lost him. He'll just pop through and kill you. Same goes for leaning against the window.

26. If you are at your Senior prom, and the school reject has just won prom queen, slowly back away and run for the exit. All hell is about to break loose.

27. SEX=DEATH

28. If you are a stoner among other stoners, be the quiet one or the lovable one. All the other stoners will be killed.

29. If the killer has stalked you over the phone lines, don't take a job as a phone counselor.

30. Never let someone hypnotize you at a party.

31. Stay away from sewers.

32. If you sense something is behind you, don't bother turning around to check. Just run.

33. If you are trying to escape the killer, sliding through the cat door in the electronic garage door will not help you any.

34. After you manage to kill the monster/killer, never sit beside it and cry. It will suddenly pop back up to finish the job.

35. Never go to camp or become a counselor. You'll be dead by the end of summer.

36. Never say "I'll be right back." You won't be back. End of story.

37. Don't ever do something just because someone dares you to.

38. If you ever visit some distant planet and find objects that look like eggs, LEAVE THEM ALONE!!! Then when one of your spaceship's crew members finds a hideous parasite attached to his body (as a result of breaking the previous rule), don't let him back on the ship. When a hideous alien menace is hunting you (as a result of breaking the previous two rules) NEVER wander off alone to hunt for the ship's cat.

39.If someone tells you to do or not to something (example: DON'T fall asleep, DON'T go out there, DON'T go look for the homicidal-chainsaw-wielding psychopath by yourself) by all means, LISTEN TO THEM!!

40. A small town's little summer celebration might sound like fun. But if you hear the locals say things like, "Why you're the guest of honor! We couldn't even have the barbecue with out you!", run like hell.

41. If you are trapped in a house surrounded by demons, making coffee will not help anyone.

42. Always be nice to the shy, quiet, unpopular girl in school.

43. Clowns never have, nor will they ever be helpful to hang around while in a horror movie. As harmless as the might seem, they WILL kill you once you let your guard down.

44. Never go back for anything you lost.

45. Avoid people with pointy teeh. Avoid people with lots of facial hair. Avoid people with pale complexions who sway and moan.

46. If the barber remarks on the "666" tattoo your kid has, abandon the kid and move to Irkutsk.

47. If you see a burly man wearing a hockey mask and toting a chainsaw, DO NOT stick around to see if he's with the Philadelphia Flyers.

48. Never buy your kid a toy that talks back.

49. Remember: Just say "NO" to human blood.

50.Never watch a horror movie while you're in a horror movie.

51.Never, under any circumstance, plan a camping trip that coincides with Friday the 13th.

52. Pigs blood is not now, nor has it ever been funny.

53. If the young girls of the neighborhood start singing songs about boogeymen while jumping rope, consider moving.

54. If you hit a man with a car in the middle of the night and try to roll him off of a dock, make sure that he is dead!

55. Never EVER play with any Ouijia board that you find in the basement of your newly bought, run-down house.

56. Never run into a deserted graveyard at night

57. If you are running away from the killer/monster, don't even try to start the car. It doesn't matter if the car is brand new, it won't start.

58. If running from the monster/killer, try to make the least amount of noise possible. Especially if you are female. Panting, crying and screaming is not going to help you hide any better.

59. For pete's sake...NEVER stick your hand down the garbage disposal. Especially if you just heard strange noises in your house or while sinister music is playing.

60. Don't marry a guy that has Satan Worshippers as friends. They will want you to birth the new Anti-Christ.

61. Never answer the phone when you are babysititng. Just get the hell out of there and leave the kids for dead.

62. If you think you see your girlfriend/boyfriend and they are wearing a mask, not talking, or conspicuously hiding their face, it's not them.

63. Don't be mean to the new kid. They will just end up killing you.

64. If you hear a strange noise coming from upstairs that sounds similar to, oh let's say a severed head falling to the floor, don't go trying to find out what it is.

65. Never touch something that just oozed out of a comet that landed near an abandoned farm house.

66. When battling zombies, always sever their head or shoot them in the brain. If you they still want to eat you after that, just surrender. There's no hope for you anyway.

67. Never wait until you NEED the gun to check and see if it's loaded.

68. If you have to stay out in the woods or at camp you're pretty much screwed. But at least you'll have a fighting chance in the cabin. Never EVER take the tent.

69. Never try to unmask the killer.

70. Never hide in a closet.

71. If you buried your child in a strange place and he came back as a demon, DON'T bury your wife in the same place.

72. If you find the mangled body of a friend, camping partner, janitor, or whom ever, don't stay and investigate. Run like hell.

73. Don't spend a lot of time in houses decorated with an excessive amount of medivel weaponry. It will be used eventually.

74. Do not make a documentary that requires you to hike through the woods while looking for a witch that leaves stick figures hanging in trees.

75. If you are going to the bathroom in a movie theatre and you think you hear a guy and a girl making out in the stall next to you, do not put your ear closer to the wall to listen.

76. If you see a short guy wearing green and wearing a shamrock hat, I wouldn't stick around to ask about his pot of gold.

77. Never transport the killer in an ambulance from one place to another. Even if they've been in a coma for 10 years, they'll wake up.

78. Never listen to strange voices on the telephone. Never say "Who's there?"

79. If your hand has been possesed by the Force of Evil, do NOT chop off your hand. Doing so will merely allow the disembodied hand the freedom to wreak havoc independent of your body. And now you have to spend the rest of the film trying to track it down

80. If you have a feeling you'll end up being chased by zombies during the night, remember to wear comfortable running shoes.

81. After babysitting, don't walk down any deserted streets with lots of trees and bushes, but no lights.

82. Always check the backseat of your car before you get in.

83. When running away from the killer/monster, NEVER run upstairs.

84. If you see someone who is within screaming distance while running from the killer/monster, for the love of god, SCREAM!!

85. If a giant shark is chasing your family, do not go swimming. Actually, stay away from the water, period.

86. If you are babysitting, don't let the kids play with the Chucky doll.

87. If one night you see a dark haired girl carrying around dolls with the eyes scratched out, back away slowly, then run like hell.

88. If you go to your school library and there are a lot of books having to do with vampires and demons...move away ASAP

89. If you are fleeing from a killer or supernatural being and you see a cop car, run right by it. There are three possible ways that things will turn out if you try to get the cops attention and none are good: A. The cop is already dead in some gruesome way that will cause you to scream and alert the killer/monster as to where you are. B. The cop will probably end up dead as he tries to help you, this will only distract the killer away from you for a few seconds, but chances are you will end up getting killed anyway. C. The supernatural being has assumed the form of a cop and just when you think you are safe...he will kill you.

90. If the locals say the camp is haunted, it probably is.

91. If people in your neighborhood have been disapearing and there's talk about a surge of any type of insect...move. Stuborn home owners always die.

92. When and if you fall while running and the killer/monster is near you, don't just sit there screaming like someone will hear you. Get up and RUN!!

93. Kill the Scientist. No matter what else you do, kill him off right away. They always want to study "it," or take "it" back to the corporate masters, or learn from "it" at the expense of comrades lives. Eggheads are always trying to understand the unknown, and get nearly everyone killed doing it. Get a clue, kill the guy with the pocket protector, he's going to sacrifice you anyway.

94. If the killer is after you and you somehow manage to knock him down, don't get up and run for help. Believe me, he will stay down much longer after you kick him a couple times.

95. If the killer/monster is dead, do not dig up his grave to try to do a final resurrection. He will only come back to life.

96. If you disobey the previous rule, don't try cutting off his head or anything cheap. Stick a grenade in his mouth and run for it.

97. If the killer is standing three feet in front of you, don't just stand there and scream while he comes running towards you. It may comes as a shock, but he DOES in fact want to kill you.

98. If you live in Maine and your hometown includes a clown driving a car he calls Christine with a large ,rabid St. Bernard in the backseat, while residing in an old, haunted hotel near a strange Pet Semetary and hangs out with teenage girls with telekenetic powers....you're pretty much screwed.

99. If you DO happen to get killed, make sure it's in a cheap low-budget gore-fest with no plot, so you can come back and kick ass, no explanation needed.

Got it? Ready to try your luck?

My horror movie connaisor friend and I maintain that we would survive any horror movie, because of our fully functioning brains.
But I don't know...


And for no reason: another quote that made me laugh to death
(don't cha love it?)


Two-Face: (resentfully) Poison Ivy.
Poison Ivy: It's been a long time, Harvey. You're still looking... halfway decent.
Two-Face: (glaring) Half of me wants to strangle you.
Poison Ivy: (smiling) And what does the other half want?
Two-Face: To hit you with a truck!
Poison Ivy: (aside to others, referring to Two-Face) We used to date.
Joker & Penguin: (catching her drift) Ahhhh...

- Almost Got 'Em

Thanks for tolerating the madness. I just couldn't resist!

Also doesn't the book cover picture at the top look freaking awesome?
ahhh......Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. I laughed for like half an hour.

The book I was named after, just one-uped itself to suit my tastes. Ha!
It's a matter of time, but I do always win.
Really, so far its been true.



So Here's the book desciption:
" Pride and Prejudice and Zombies features the original text of Jane Austen's beloved novel with all-new scenes of bone-crunching zombie action. As our story opens, a mysterious plague has fallen upon the quiet English village of Meryton—and the dead are returning to life! Feisty heroine Elizabeth Bennet is determined to wipe out the zombie menace, but she's soon distracted by the arrival of the haughty and arrogant Mr. Darcy. What ensues is a delightful comedy of manners with plenty of civilized sparring between the two young lovers—and even more violent sparring on the blood-soaked battlefield as Elizabeth wages war against hordes of flesh-eating undead. Complete with 20 illustrations in the style of C. E. Brock (the original illustrator of Pride and Prejudice), this insanely funny expanded edition will introduce Jane Austen's classic novel to new legions of fans".

I have got to have this! It might just be the ticket to redeeming myself to my name. because, I've been disillusioned as of late.


You know how some people can't stand parodies of things they like, because they take it personally and let it ruin the thing for them, I'm the opposite. A good parody can make me fall in love with something, I'd previously been fairly indifferent about.


Started to read Neil Gaiman's Smoke and Mirrors, a collection of dark and twisted fairy tales. Really why are fairy tales always just the best? Old or young, there's just something about them.
I love how Fairytales are so beauiful and off-kilter.
The glass slippers left on the ball room staircase, well there're mine.
The white rabbit running through the hills, well he's looking for me


Anyway....getting off track a bit, he describes the posession that is writting stories so perfectly, I had to include the quote here: "A few of them were written to amuse myself or, more precisely, to get an idea out of my head and pinned safely on paper; which is as good a reason to write as I know; releasing demons and letting them fly. Some stories began in idleness: fancies and curiosities that got out of hand."
Yes. This is what it is. But somehow, my own words just can't describe it for myself.

Books...like TV...Only more thinking.
We're sorely lacking.



I got a kick out of the Fanboys trailer on my Mac's trailer gallery, which at the end does what I wish every trailer did, it tells us where we know the people from. Featuring: The warehouse guy from The Office, The guy from Tropic Thunder, The guy from Diehard 4, The hot chick from Sin City, and... Captain James T. Kirk.

Ha. That's so cute.
Ahh, Fanboys. They can just be so much fun.

This week, I finally bought an Ugly Doll. I've loved them for years, and I finally decide to buy one. He's soft, big eyed and a pretty blue, and apparently his name is Big Toe. According to the little write-up on his tag, he's a bit of a planner and an eater.
I've got to get more. Ugly may just be the new cute.

Life is just superb at the moment. I'm starting to find english class, pretty boring and pointless, but I found the golden ticket, I made out of a Caramilk wrapper (drawings) when I was bored on a saturday at work. I remember, I made four others for the people sitting around me who had chocolate bars (I love you Halton Regional Building venting machines), but then I would make any more. If there's too many out there, it's not special.

And I'm in a good mood now.


On a bad note, I finally found the copy of Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind, that I owe the library like 5o dollars in fines on. I'll have to take it back and own up to my debt. My room is such a fucking mess, its like a blackhole that sucks everything into a pit of nothingness.Seriously, I buy things, I put them down for one minute and they disapear.

Really, Its the entire house. Here, a triumph is finding that theres actually butter in the butter container, not leftover spagetti.
And really, its getting to be a miracle if i sleep at all, much less before midnight

God, I need some new music! Any ideas? I'm open to pretty much anything, and I'll spread the word. If I like it.

I am so in love with my platform strawish shoes. I do so love my shoes. It' s almost like a complusion or an addiction.
My name is Catcher and I'm a shoe addict.


Now i have an other school week tommorrow, which will seen longer because tommorrow will feel like monday, etc. For the whole week. And then another glorious weekend, baby!


Grad photos on Wednesday. Argh! I hate having photos done. I just can't ever take a good picture, unless I'm taking it of myself. I'm not particularily ugly or anything (I don't think...) but in front of the camera, my face just screws itself up.
It's a very strange, very particular talent I have.
Useless talent # 34- I'm just waiting for it to come in handy.

With Zombies?


My evil sister basically spent the entire weekend picking fights with me. And then we both get blamed, my Dad telling us we both need to own up to our parts, going on with the old sickening addiage, it takes two to tango. It makes me want to tear my hair out! Because it doesn't. Someone can come up to you and for no reason start beating you up, someone can start calling you names, someone can make your living hell life a real living hell, without you lifting a finger.

It doesn't take "two to tango", I've been tangoing fine on my own.

You don't say?
Run Like You Hear The Blue Danube Waltz
Be the hero, never the victim. Just make the jump!
-Catcher
I'm a paper doll.
Dreaming of a Thousand Skies and a Thousand Perfect Suns.

Good Morning Darlings.
Its a Strange New World, Today.

I'll Buy You A Goldfish!

"When did the future switch from being a promise, to being a threat?'- Invisible Monsters


Water, Water everywhere and not a drop to drink.



I fucking hate Sundays.

In the week, its always the day I dread. Either the beginning or the end.

The beginning of a week of schedules and work robbing me of time to think, ot the ending of an all to brief taste of freedom. Its when I realize I'm wasting my life, with nothing to show for each day, by scribblings or work agendas covered in song lyrics and sketches.

They feel lazy and depressing and grey, the house feels empty and I listen to melancholic music (this weekend, I'm on Nico) and stare at my face in the mirror, full of mourning for myself. On Sundays, even the brightest lights cannot chase the grey away, over coming the grasping light, smothering it out like a candle, the last drop of saniety in the darkness, or perverting the self-imposed darkness,, with ashen haze.
On Sundays, I just want to cry, for no reason. My eyes are suddenly both wet and dry. And by nightfall, I dread that I have to live another week, until the next Sunday.

I wake up this morning, and my first thought is aging.

I am Dying.

I am dying more each day, and so are you.
My thousands of cells are living, growing, mating and dying, full lives that I haven't shared, and I'm getting older. Each minute, each second, I am aging. Changing ever so slightly.

One day I will wake up old, and not recognize the face in the mirror's glass. I'll cry, weep for my lost youth, the time when all I could hope for was getting older.

And one day, I won't wake up at all.


Today, in my throes of Sunday misery, I put on a somber expression. I let my tangled hair down obscuring my face, and the weary hollows under my tired eyes, the creases in my forehead, and my cupid lips. And I cover it all, the entire mess of baby face and cheeks in tape, watching it in the bathroom mirror.
I stare.
But the face doesn't suddenly become beautiful, doesn't suddenly turn ugly.
It just hovers behind a mask.
Should I just give over to masks?
Disguise my middle of the road face, obscure and aging for each new day?

I peel away the tape in strips, struck with white remenants of my dead skin, then I rip harshly and pretend I'm ripping away the skin, and freeing my spirit from its fleshy cage.

For the life of me, I couldn't tell you what posessed me to do this. I just did.

I feel like the Girl Who Has Everything. I have everything I need and more, and almost everything I could ever want. I have plenty of knowlege, plenty of talents, and
But no love. I many not love anyone. I may never have.

I feel like I'm complaining about nothing. But love is just so important to me, without it I feel empty and powerless. Emptiness is fully consumbing, on its own. I think most of my problems could easily be solved by a man, but I would seriously pity whoever could love me.

I may love you, but you'd never be mine to love. I cannot take you from someone else.
I am not a person.
I am not a lover.
I do not live.
Surely if someone wishes to loves me, if they only could
It would only bring them pain and sadness.
I am a curse, masquerading as a human being
I am the poison that fills the air
I am the virus infecting your blood
I do so want to love, but it abandons me.
Leaves me with only my pathetic self, writing these pathetic, pretentious thoughts, as if I actually had introspection, as if I actually had a brain.

I call myself a Winter girl, and love the snow to an unbelivable point, but this year it's so cold, so miserable, that I'm yearning for the spring. In a flash of thought at work yesterday, I churned out an poem, my notebook clasped to me, swiveling my swivel chair, while I'm supposed to be listening to my boss talk about planning events for the months up until June.
But it's too depressing to think about it, because if its June, that means I'm gone.
This phase of my life is over, and I haven't accomplished anything.

You hear about all these geniuses and heros, who win prizes, start charities and are on a course to save the world.
I'm seventeen, and what have I done?

Just this:

Daisy Chains
The sun is a liquid lover
The spring paints the fresh air with scent
Spotlights me in sunstroking haze
I've walked the roads barefoot
Parched
Passed over long ago
My broken toes, struck grassy knolls
The trees weep for secrets
Without mouths they cannot share
I'm melting to liquid
The dew stroking the ground
Where the poison flowers once grew
I lie in sunbeams
Radiant at dawn
Braiding thoughts through my hair
Pluck a lonely daisy, clinging to the ground
The child bride's bouquet
Grown into silken white
Daisy chains to bind
Shroud in table cloth veils, true love waits across
I'm bound with pretty chains
Flowering my eternal spring
Purifying spirited thoughts
Silver flashing dreams
Lazily, I'm stuck in childish thoughts
Refusing to grow, to change
And allowing my poor plucked daisies no options
I can choose to keep them forever new
Held to my dizzying heart
And distilled of theier grandour
I'm still on the dust bowl
The school yard, stuck between chalk box lines
Riding out the storm
I'm living a new life, but the past still owns me
Creates me
And like the daisy petals, I'm not free to fly
Pluck
He loves me
Pluck
He loves me not
I watch the cobwebs grow through endless winters
My loves, My unions
Grow old and turn practical
Withering
Can I just keep my wonder?
The spring,
The rush of my now plucked thought
The daisies I dream


I still do nothing.
Nothing. I've spent most of my years reading about other people having adventures.

I am in love with INVISIBLE MONSTERS.
It's by Chuck Palahniuk, who also wrote Fight Club, and it's spectacular.
All about the costs of beauty, the invisibility our society, so afraid of offending others, gives to disfigurement, wondering where love went and creating a future out of the ruins of the past.

Its so packed with social critcisms also, sprinkled all over the pages, that seem to echo my every passing thought, every condemnation I've ever had about the world I inhabit and never told anyone.

I can understand invisibilty. I do this thing now, where I stare off in space, as if deep in thought or pretending to read and listen to other people's conversations. Learn about them, while they know nothing of me, because I've never shared myself.
Sometimes, I'm just doing nothing but sitting there, clearly listening, and people look at me, the quiet girl, think I'm no threat, and have personal conversations right in front of me, as if I'm not even there.
They don't give me much hope. I've learned that so many people I know, so many people I profane to love, are really two faced. I learn who secretly hates their friends, who laughs at their boyfriend behind his back, who gossips about his girlfriend and thinks she's only good for one thing. I know that even those who are loved, are really alone.

It disgusts me.
I'm sincere.
When I hate someone, I don't pretend to love them, or make them part of my life. When I think something someone I know made sucks, I just say nothing. I'm too polite to criticize, but I'm too far gone to pretend.

I know so many of their secrets, its as if they make my own all right.


"I love Seth Thomas, so much I have to destroy him. I overcompensate by worshipping the queen supreme. Seth will never love me. No one will ever love me again."
"Brandy is waiting to take the card and read it out loud. Brandy's waiting to read my worst fears to the world, but I don't give her the card. I kiss it myself, with the lips I don't have and let the wind take it out of my hand. The card flies up, up, up to the stars, and then falls down to land in the suicide net."
- also from Invisible Monsters


Pathetically, this almost describes how I feel. But I want to be the card, floating, just floating. With no thoughts of wasted lives, or wasted weekends.

I get so frustrated by those guys who whine on and on about never having girls be interested in them, about never being loved, about being lonely.
And I want to scream, I'm right here! Notice me!

I wonder if I would frustrate them with my own whining.
Maybe we should just get together, just try each other and see where we end up.
What we end up with.
Maybe we'd have something.



"Elope with me Miss Private and we'll sail around the world
I will be your Ferdinand and you my wayward girl
How many nights of talking in hotel rooms can you take?
How many nights of limping round on pagan holidays?
Oh elope with me in private and we'll set something ablaze
A trail for the devil to erase "

- Piazza, New York Catcher, Belle and Sebastian





"Was she told when she was young that pain would lead to pleasure?
Did she understand it when they said
That a man must break his back to earn his day of leisure?
Will she still believe it when he's dead?

-Girl, The Beatles

“I thought it was a nice name! And a nice dress!”
She protested with a little pout, folding her arms across her chest.
He tsked.
“Of course you did. It wouldn’t have been half as funny if you didn’t. "

- Catcher in the back field,
Gazing at the stars and not the game.

Such A Pretty Little Girl...

Previously, I've agonized over whether or not I am a good writer, whether or not people will consider me a good writer, but really, all that really does matter in whether I consider myself a writer at all...And I do. I'm still young, inexperienced to much of the world, but there's no denying that I have a voice. Not profound, gonzo voice of a generation, by any stretch of the imagination, but its something. The writing I admire, the writing that inspires me to create my own, fill pages with thoughts beautiful and ugly and above all mine, came out of living, meeting people seeing new things, and experimenting in all senses of the word, and I wonder if I'll ever get my chance, and I wonder.... if I get it, will I take it?

I keep saying, reassuring myself that my real life will begin when I get out here, get onto the boat, but that's what I say about everything, and anything. I say things will
And even now, I look around and see that everyone around me is living, living now.
Am I dead?

No..I'm the living Dead, I'm the life in death. I remind myself of grade eleven english class, these days:

" Her lips were red,
her looks were free,
Her locks were yellow as gold :
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Night-mare Life-In-Death was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold."

- Rime of The Ancient Mariner

Writer's Craft, I can already tell, may redemn me to myself. The all to familar magic of putting a pen to the blank expanse of page, and filling it with myself, painting in with my heart, and watching something so plain, so full of possibility, became my own. Friday Free Writing, crafting a story from a photograph sent me through a story of quiet desperation, of unlived lives, that took on a life of its own, ending up with a business man throwing his desk chair out the office window and stealing a convertible.
Why?
Because I made him my own personal Pete Best.

And I remembered, how much writing, can be a journey, letting you see and create new worlds and new people. I go into a trance, where I'm no longer me, and not a character ever, I slip out of my skin, out of my mind, and cease to be. When I'm no one, I can see the others.
I lose track of time, or rather, time stop existing, and suddenly my clock goes off, and I realize I've written through yet another night.
Been a slave to words.

Suddenly I just want to write. Be daisy chained to my (handy dandy) notebook.
Wake me up when the summer starts....I'd set my alarm, but it's not the most reliable.

But all it really takes to set me off, even when I'm reading, make me stare at a page until it becomes meaningless, reading it over and over again, is a pretty word.

I'm obsessed, collecting words like my father and his boxes of Batman comics, or my sister and her TNA sweaters, or my mother and her Vogues.
We all have things we want to own everything of, and I want pretty words.
Or I want them to own me.
Doesn't matter.

Doesn't matter want they mean, where they came from, what they're connected to, just that they sound rich and decadent and paint pictures in the air, tapestries behind my itching eyelids.

Sometimes, a new one rushes over me and I need to scribble it down. No matter what I'm doing, it hammered at my skull not letting me find peace until I commit to the paper. Ideas find me this way too, and sometimes it's like torture.
Sometimes I wish for Writer's Block.

But I've read to much, seen to many movies, and TV shows, to make the wish in waking hours.
We always seem punished by wishes, burned by desires.
They turn on us, casting shadows of regret. But it doesn't stop the wishing.
Maybe one day, I'll yearn for the time when the stories, the words wouldn't leave me alone.
Or for better ideas.

PRETTY (such a simple, overused word, but it's the right word):

She Let Her Downfall In The Front Door

Poetry, Captivating, Mischief, Wicked, Stained, Illusions, Deceptions, Mirages, Mystical, Lotion, Cresendo, Sexual, Glint, Illcit, Illustrious, Deceit, Deficit, Otherworldly, Blood, Silk, Venom, Flash, Journey, Baby Doll, Music Box, Unicorn, Ingenue, Bleach, Sunstroke, Caress, Air, Kissed, Dark, Rosebud, Promise, Glimmer, Patent, Ash, Debutant, Ostrich, Quicksilver, Petal, Collapse, Cold, Moonlight, Lover, Turmoil, Romanticism, Ballet, Ambrosia, Fin De Siecle, Winter, Legend, Carving, Glide, Bygone, Century, Starfires, Flame, Rosary, Tattoo, Astronomy, Once, Lilting, Still, Cape, Coupe D'etat, Alchemy, Faded, Fly, Mortality, Liquid, Sunshine, Dance, Birkin, View, Snow, Strange, Kitten, Bouffant, Magic Marker, Flight, Silence, Bohemia, Doorway, Nom De Plume, Madness, Memory, Ribbon, Butterfly, Fluidity, Picturesque, Quiver, Perfumery, Avalon, Travelogue, Venue, Truth, Whimsy, En Vin Veritas, Echo, Pinnacle, Serenity, Serendipity, Betrothal, Frozen, Lock, Lush, Ceremony, Minuet, Waltz, Paint, Pain, Verity, Blending, Death, Documentary, Devoted, Secret, Spinning, Shell, Satchel, Wanderlust, Mace, Lost, Scribbling, Renaissance, Velvet, Midnight, Opaque, Onyx, Nylons, Reflex, Sickly, Sweet, Vampirism, Transformation, Impale, Sustain, Marble, Raven, Ravish, Foe, Cul-de-sac, Glamourous, Airplane, Whet, Lips, Cure, Sight, Temptation, Famished, Ravenous, Buckle, Tender, Opera House, Lullaby, Underside, Breathtaking, Cliffside, Danger, Thirst, Wheat, Libretto, Backstage, Paranoia, Devour, Teeth, Love, Saga, Synopsis, Hereafter, String, Ageless, Eternal, Youth, Immortality, Windblown, Grand Piano, Culture, Decollete, Paperwhite, Roman Candles, Mill, Floss, Mad, Teacup, Oppulence, Explosion, Reaction, Orange Crush, Riveting, Moon, Dance, Golden, Chaos, Climax, Dawn, Tension, Garnet, Lust, Luscious, Baguette, Affair, Touch, Wild, Autumn, Silver, Slumber, Personal, Raw, Paradise, Vulture, Garter, Kneesocks, Wilderness, Lock, Heart, Gentle, Eternal, Ethereal, Celestial, Stille, Crystalline, Marseilles, Duet, Free, Epic, Wind, Whisper, Willow, Musical, Defunct, Deja Vu, Jewel, Tower, Imitation, Stronghold, Demon, Picket, Chew, Fluff, Strong, Arms,Home, Darkness, Risk, Cliff Diving, Sepia, Delusional, Engagement, Prey, Pawn, Palm Frond, Listen, Maestro, Masterpiece, Locket, Elyria, Fairborn, Starry Night, Run, Purity, Cry, Bitter, Tears, Fate, Eyeliner, Sweet, Enchantment, Courage, Regal, Harp, Contraire, Patterns, Familiarity, Heartbeat, Breathe, Brushed, Candy, Blush, Deficient, Victoriana, Nightgown, Chess, Spoils, Haze, Gauze, Gossamer, Music, Fiery, Butterfly, Playground, Innocence, Doe Eyes, Kingdom, Ocean, Seedy, Haughty, Fallen Aristocrat, Breeze, Bandit, Pearl, Diamond Guitar, Rise, Edgy, Chronicle, Pale, Imitation, Fairtale, Rider, Babble, Inert, Plaster, Light Bulb, White Cotton, Cartoon, Purgatory, Avant-garde, Tire Swing, Straw, Majesty, Wait, Lux, Yellowed, Exorcism, Iconoclast, Harpsichord, Gold, Crown, Soda-Pop, Letters, Barrier, Cookie Dough, Rooted, Ancestry, Opal, Amethyst, Mania, Thunder, Headphone, Plum, Echo, Album, Record, Why, Drug, Skull, Bullet, Shiver, Hedonistic, Heathen, Snow White, Beauty, Blossom, Excess, Wonderment, Cell, Constrict, Recruit, Tuberose, Interrogate, Abstract, Impressionism, Papier Mache, Courtesy, Hypnotic, Miscopic, Misantropic, Chemical, Wax Sealed, Bound, Ride, Present, Gripping, Icy, Lacy, Kidskin Gloves, Frosting, Melody, Lace, Temporary, Flimsy, Shroud, Feminism, Underpinnings, Decoder Ring, Hatbox, Lightening, Paper Doll, Mannequin, Pursue, Cityscape, Song, Vinyl, Nunnery, Pretty, Fanatical, Sugar, Prognosis, Sequined, Beret, Bell, Radiate, Gemstone, Bird, Liberate, Lily-Of -The -Valley, Art House Film, Emerging, Forefront, Cusp, Liberine, Victrola, Lampshade, Existential, Skullduggery, Pursuit, Tuxedo, Creamery, Plush, Plummage, Sugar Rush, Tree, Film Strip, Ode, Genetics, Cupid Knife, Honey, Nomadic, Pirate, Rainbow, Catalyst, Dizzying, Eclipse, Calvary, Intellectual, Karma, Cerise, Photo Essay, Maven, Oxygen, Canaries, Shadow, Boxer, Belle Epoque, Peripheral, Voice, Hunting, Crave, Rent Party, Promise, Plunder, Lass, Camera, Sushi, Castaway, Downright, Fleeting, Curtesy, Pitard, Hubris, Debate, Waist, Lies, Cutout, Clipping, Daisy Chain, Forgotten, Bottle, Eclectic, Wink, Original, Clouded, Sky Writer, Infectious, Acid, Tongue, Diseased, History, Ancients, Aristocratic, Diving, Symphony, Soft-Focus, Caramel, Eccentric, Sympathy, Tender, Free-Fall, Abyss, Brocade, Roller Skates, Finery, Cassius, Pleasure, Assassin, Freedom, Masquerade, Art, Antiquity, Felony, Harlequin, Laughter, Legal, Submission, Baroque, Wept, Fiance, Revolution, Camera, Ticklish, Feather, Wonderland, Chortle, Mimsy,Viral, Statue, Looking Glass, Vibrations, Provocative, Vaccine, Animal, Magnet, Voyage, Voyeur, Martini, Covet, Society, Starlight, Come, Hither, Garret, Attic, Midnight, Catharsis, Tingle, Childhood, Numbness, Spirit, Coffret, Philosophy, Cemetary, Daydream, Desire, Suspense, Mystery, Atmosphere, Dandelions, Scarlet, Yellowed, Flirt, Fan Girl, Rebellion, Hawk, Bauble, Bangle, Skin, Breakfast, Phantom, Parties, Rival, Cinema, Marquee, Glass, Shield, Ribbon, Suicide, Parisian, Delicate, Dauphine, Sensual, Crimson, Cautionary, Candid, Riddled, Timeless, Loveless, Synonymous, Addict, Feather, Fable, Trial By Fire, Convertible, Backroads, Babylon, Strike, Stream, Strewn, Tiara, Love Drug, Ecstasy, Euphoria, Muse, Cri Du Chat, Caged Bird, Pleasure, Delicacy, Socialite, Angel, Power Play, Surge, Fireworks, Reaction, Electricity, Electrocute, Potion, Cauldron, Crescendo, Climax, Meaning, Confessional, Whimsy, Lark, Lips, Fragile, Scandal, Wings, Sugar, Blending, Bridegroom, Grisette, Watercolour, Guilt, Tradgedy, Vintage, Diamond Necklace Affair, Taste, Silhouette,Chandelier, Mosaic, Faze, Lolita, Coquette, Admirer, Chorus, Adonis, Heath, Palate, Chocolate, Bon Vivant, Underground, Champagne, Flute, Symphony, Pirate, Bittersweet, Leather, Stage, Decadent, Heat, Flower, Sprinkle, Elm, Sparkler, Breath, Endearing, Whimsical, Captivating, Twinkle, Derelict, Ghost, Impermance, Asphixiate, Cityscape, Dardanelles, Passion, Bewildered, Foxglove, Powder Puff, Night, Icing, Floating, Lipstick, Light, Swan, Heroine, Metallic, New Wave, Mixtape, Fielding, Stilettos, Globe, Shot, Opera Glasses, Revolutionaires, Banner, Phantasmagorical, Mountain, Oceania, Bouquet, Antique, Pride, Irk, Roller Coaster, Invitation, Carnival, Candy Cane, Bloodlust, Corduroy, Satin, Flesh, Tea Party, Charm, Cache, Powder Keg, Dust, Flour, Skin, Collegiate, Laughter, Cobwebs, Flutter, Woven, Nightingale, Tapestry, Strangle, Pearls, Dilitant, Wayward, Ticket, Box Office, Juice Box, Hopscotch, Skip, Imagine, Candy Coloured, Bright, Perfume, Intensity, Cherries, Florescent, Unique, Defy, Unbound, Lasting, Fantasy, Sketch, Beauty, Obsession, Inharmonic, Infamy, Naivete, Rhyme, Rhythm, Spasm, Bomber, Soprano, Fulfillment, Fingers, Sin, Awakening, Spring, Mandrake, Ache, Static, Prosperity, Hunger, Crime, Rogue, Tainted, Torn, Ending, Torn, Telephone, Dreamer, Arrested, Flare, Monumental, Plush, Moment, Harvest, Vast, Trickery, Bow Tie, Dice, Vienna, Sunset, Visage, Skies, Stretch, Ghost Writer, Footprints, Phantasm, Cardic, Tonight, Darling, Consumption, Echo, Feeling, Schism, Xylophone, Delight, Rocket, Beautiful, Scullery, Scream, Waxing Poetic, Billowing, Simplicity, Elegnant, Craziness, Sophisticate, Caress, Rapberry, Lyrical, Idyllic, Amour, Armor, Pedastal, Pillor, Gypsy, Wounded, Battle Scars, Fatality, Citrus, Porcelain, Ashes, Kiss, Spiral, Staircase, Slipper, Fading, Soapdish, Mourn, Yearn, Graveyard, Sky, Demure, Risky, Portrait, Lady, Sleep, Twilight, Moan, Vessel, Vase, Vein, Exit Music, Mirror, Weekend, Knight, Poetical, Luck, Struck, Exotic, Trouble, Treble Clef, Cage, Deco, Filgree, Braid, Face, Manifesto, Movement, Bliss, Hooks, Heir, French, Dressing, Iron, Paradise, Punch, Pleasing, Typewriter, Sneaker, Kitsch, Detour, Advisory, Literary Circle, Happiness, Ending, Victory Garden, Stroke, Starlet, Mine, Paper Bag, Teenage, Homecoming, Violet, Violin, Living, Scattered, Couture, Sugar Coma, Exclamation Mark, Beat, Heartthrob, Haute, Churning, Pills, Airy, Hidden, Shame Spiral, Sunshine, Apology, Invigorating, Sidewalk, Wash, Apperance, Weakness, Entrance, Catcher, Fight, Bite, Choke, Local, Pieces, Alone, Roaming, Satin, Newness, Belonging, Beloved, Forgotten, Chocolatier, Atelier, Ornate, Knife, Lattice, Curtain, Draped, Bondage, Encounter, Bandaged, Storied, Recording, Escapist, Crime, Pitch, Atone, Circumvent, Acidic, Burn, Prey, Defiant, Gaze, Juxtaposition, Streets, Quaint, Quest, Cocktail, Proof, Adventure, Magical, Kick, Happening, Stadium, Dream, Strawberry, Flaxen, Fading, Signature, Hankerchief, Spacier, Sailing, Crowded, Drink Cart, Cruise, Fury, Fame, Antagonist, Anthesis, Spastic, Opening, Love Notes, Gossip, Discarded, Ribboned, Bedazzled, Dove, Emerald, Pastel, Cake, Sumptuous, Cherry Coke, Melodic, Dreamland, Rewind, Petit Fours, Creme, Club, Kilt, Photography, Journalist, Drown, Rabbit Hole, Voice, Trapdoor, Temperment, Enduring, Decorum, Curdle, Chaise, Cosmetic, Palpable, Optimism, Disguise, Limpid, Comely, Tempest, Surreal, Stark, Downy, Gloss, Sour, Eyelid, Tired, Waitress, Maddening, Clover, Streetlight Fancy, Serpantine, Subway, Fishnets, Clone, Curiosity, Claws, Flight, Hot Pink Cellophane Balloons, Stance, Poise, Pendant, Nature, Loft, Mint, Quill, Quell, Tuberose, Popcorn, Baby Powder, Heaven, Embroidery, Emotions, Gaffe, Subtle, Gargoyle, Sun Shower, Cobalt, Coal, Parasol, Implode, Eyeshadow, Smeared, Surface, Morning, Winery, Daze, Sincere, Danger, Pulsing, Exile, Verse, Knowledge, Duplicate, Chalk, Tomorrow, Single, Regaling, Laisse Faire, Scented, Skyline, Explosion, Raw, Whiplash, Discotheque, Balcony, Intuitive, Derivative, Rotary Dial, Phone, Girl, Horizon, Curl, Destiny, Crash, Eyelash, Imprint, Antidote, Basket Case, Darkness, Placid, Taxi, Glitter, Hope, Foal, Toy, Pocket, Trivial, Pursuit, Frosted Window, Wit, Bubble Gum, Wink, Closet, Cloister, Liason, Kneel, Scruntiny, Hypothesis, Bittersweet, Brass, Camisole, Proverb, Eggshell, Pilgrim, Bonnet, Itch, Skim, Blushing, Shipwreak, Cough, Candlelight, Accent, Savy, Combat, Finery, Final, Riot, Popsicle, Coinage, Pose, Kinship, Coffers, Kidskin, Vineyard, Decay, Touch, Win, Sundae, Lottery, Gourmet, Curtly, Mask, Mermaid, Subtle, Gentlemen, Handwriten, Head Rush, Sound, Premonition, Calligraphy, Piano, Bijoux, Bus Stop, Ceiling, Exploit, Urban, Indie, Stationary, Swimming, Thumb, Speed, Sleek, Delicate, Balance, Scales, Weary, Chirping, Candor, Gushing, Scissors, Killer, Carousel, Spandex Pony, Underfoot, Angels, Prevail, Reunited, Caramel, Throne, Glitz, Perfection, Snowfall, Dignity, Cupid, Arrow, Corpse, Pop Rocks, Monologue, Apocalypse, Joy, Jubilate, Jaded, Vital, Crystal, Ice Palace, Effigy, Zenith, Zeitgeist, Tentacles, Bonnet, Freedom, Rooftop Lover, Orchestra, Pianissimo, Rose, Song, Takeoff, Doll Revolution, Collapse, Nevermind, Mercy, Gothic, Swingset, Backing, Misery, Abyss, Forefront, Usher, Era, Buried, Intrusive, Silence, Infatuation, Woe, Frivolity, Cotton Candy, Confection, Grimace, Fragments, Freakshow, Corruption, Bride, Mimic, Birthday, Veil, Wish, Laundry, Sketch, Fortune Cookie, Above, Graduation, Lurking, Surprise, Forget, Tingling, Voicebox, Scent, Pinprick, Captour, Caped, Unorthodox, Light, Sunbream, Pulsing, Murder, Axis, Tear Ridden, Fragile, Infinite, Skipping, Spell, Smile, Harbour, Wither, Transluccent, Tresses, Steamer Trunk, Soundless, Inflection, Rhythmic, Candied, Attraction, Vision, Wreak, Meadow, Flirtation, Vicious, Steal, Drifting, Slash, Stylistic, Tracing, Clock, Imitation, Flicker, Garland, Victorious, Haunting, Wintersong, Fidget, Charity, Wavering, Stealth, Pier, Save, Surface, Faint, Matchpoint, Enharmonic, Seaside, Bohemian, Bleak, Sword, Vendetta, Vivacious, Asylum, Dreary, Heart Shaped, Vaniety, Wardrobe, Longing, Insaniety, Sing-Along, Creased, Metronome, Vain, Promises, Capsule, Proximity, Predator, Ice Cream, Stitch, Chaos, Richly, Yours, Sincere, Gown, Mate, Decipher, Cloaked, Threads, Petty, Listen, Impulse, Listless, Serial, Sophistry, Consume, Humanity, Hidden, Tedium, Manhattan, Drift, Acoustic, Intellect, Sophmore, Tragical, Paper Boats, Foundling, Accelerate, Pompous, Impetous, Wafting, Pastimes, Complexities, Armoire, Unjust, Compassion, Devil, Compulsion, Trickled, Limited, Episode, Warning, Blackout, Pulp, Anxiety, Splintered, Flutter, Atrocity, Promenade, Spill, Sensation, Mystery, Intrusion, Fervor, Timing, Rabid, Lost, Libertine, Coil, Augustian, Wail, Recluse, Dispel, Whimsy, Nightmare, Party, Friday, Morning, Hero, Tender, Embrace, Intent, Potent, Organza, Dillettante, Romance, Teacup, Fragment, Valet, Cake Walk, Moondance, Column, Betrayal, Elite, Ostracized, Venetian, Gazette, Heaven, Vanilla, Eclipse, Aromatic, Carriage House, Broadway, Prologue, Prodigy, Current, Ornate, Exertion, Elaborate, Propose, Refined, Downcast, Gutter, Gardenia, Telltale, Wed, Coif, Linger, Pallbearer, Perch, Afterlife, Pry, Fathom, Loveliness, Crypt, Factory, Tread, Smoldering, Regime, Hunting, Beau, Ballet Slippers, Slender, Postscript, Poppies, Estate Sale, Whitewash, Miniature, Recreational, Crumble, Cappuccino, Supreme, Smother, Wring, Throat, Lollipop, Architect, Feat, Studio Apartment, Night Cap, Soaked, Ward, Manicure, Obscurity, Wizened, Doppelganger, Strawberry Milkshake, Cloud, Ascetic, Stoic, Transparent, Salvation, Fresco, Frenetic, Smoke Rings, Bodice, Studded, Canopy, Fan, Fawn, Conspiracy, Soul, Pottery, Energy, Kiln, Sculpture, Clay, Waltz, Alabaster, Putty, Salon, Live, Iris, Clasp, Pewter, Pearl, Candlestick, Lineage, Frog Prince, Damask, Loss, Jodhpurs, Imposing, Wrought, Priceless, Chipped, Railroad, Hostel, Drawing, Footwork, Rook, Castle, Cupcake, Anxiety, Clockwork, Death Bed, Tryst, Transatlantic, Acrid, Apology, Pep, Ballroom, Menace, Messenger, Exhurberance, Reprise, Respite, Fringe, Marshmallow, Decolletage, Partisian, December, College, Remenant, Shadow, Corset, Palazzo, Theatre, Graymalkin, Heirloom, Hideout, Cave, Unabashed, Cassette, Vivid, Locale, Chiffon, Meringue, Moderate, Showdown, Giddy, Childhood, Curse, Gramercy, Trench, Trilby, Carrier, Chest, Fringe, Momentum, Kindred, Gravity,Necklace, Turret, Winged, Artist, Straving, Pomade, Suite, Ace, Transcendent, Barefoot, Fete, Foreign, Perverse, Mysticism, Virtue, Guise, Mood, Virtuoso, Treat, Threat, Truth, Decanter, Interlude, Clad, Sniff, Honour, Cluster, Exposure, Debauchery, Identity, Island, Prominance, Providence, Rebel, Yell, Maiden, Crawl, Opera, Puppet, Vulnerability, Mezzanine, Spur, Forest, Cliche, Vine, Delirious, Hum, Thorn, Tempo, Motorcycle, Sapphire, Lagoon, Summering, Sephric, Crusade, Beast, Glance, Blanketed, Swirling, Fluster, Gasp, Everything, Cleanisng, Unicorn, Laughing, Dessert, Fantasy, Frosting, Halt, Saunter, Soon, Pain, Quail, Dearest, Goodbyes, Finally, Falling, Alive, Treat, Only, Epiphany, Murmur, Sweatheart, Eternia, Dreamer


I like too many words.
Someone PLEASE save me from myself!
Word Addicts Anonymous (WAA).
Zydrate's the only cure.

If I was the only one left, I'd stop in my tracks. I wouldn't be able to laugh or cry, just sit, in the middle of the sidewalk, pick up a pen and write my own Book of Dreams, for City Lights.

The Writing On The Wall:
Here's the first poem I ever wrote, for your laughing pleasure:

Advice For When Your Older

You Believe that the fate of the world is
Love, laugh, amusement
You live on top, past all the real, painful , sad stuff
Dreams pass, do you hear the silence?
Stop fighting it!
Share major wealth
Love something sweet
Got pain?
Want less?
Spill a personal fear
List a dream
It's a must-have
Reach your mark and cry:
"Look I am special!"

(really much ado about nothing, at all, but whatever.)

I'm older now, and I feel like my ten year old self wrote the poem for me. Maybe I should just toughen up my all-too sensitive skin, wear steel toed boots and not let the world get to me. Take my own advice, a spill my 200 odd secrets, get my head out of the clouds where only the angels fuck, and on the ground, where I actually exist (in theory...).
But who really wants to sit and listen to the ramblings of a mad (crazy) girl?

Now I still here, still wearing my lucky necklace from grade six (from when I made my first cast list), poised to graduate from high school, confirmed to be moving at least four hours away from everything I've ever know in a few short months.
Now I'm thinking about this,
the future so empty and ready for me to shape it, and I can't stop mulling over the past.
But the past, present and future, just blend together for me, before my dancing eyes, until I can't tell what has already happened and what I've only dreamt of.
It's very Little Edie.

But there's nothing you can do with regret. You can't ever go back, can't ever fix things, as hard as you try, it's only grasping at pastel coloured straws, until they slip from my bitten fingers. No matter how much the past haunts you, there's no flux capacitor for me, and I'll never rule the morlocks.

But I digress, I'm only seventeen. I don't know why I'm so flightly and carefree one minute, and analying my life, like it's full of tradgedy or torment.
I've never really been hurt
I've never really loved
I've never really been rejected
I've never really let myself free, from the limits I impose on myself, my worst jailer.

So really, the only question is "Why So Serious?"
(really you should get a glascow smile if you don't get this one, at least!)

I've come so far, but I've never gotten home. I'm one of those girls who would take the wheel and drive out into the night, hypnotized by the full moon, driving until I fit a home.
I'm Holly Golightly tonight. Not the one, the party girl Audrey Hepburn played in the movie, but the erratic, dreamer callgirl from Truman Capote's original novella, still an undomesticated wild thing who doesn't understand how to live.

Holly Golightly: You know those days when you get the mean reds?
Fred: The mean reds, you mean like the blues?
Holly Golightly: No. The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long, you're just sad that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?
Fred: Sure.
Holly Golightly: Well, when I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then -then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name!

-Breakfast At Tiffany's

I feel like this when it's snowing, but you can't just like in the snow and not expect to freeze. I might really be the no name slob, the cat who needs to be taken in, taken care of, and hibernate by the fire.

Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke

Dream Catcher,

Dreaming of You

Dreaming of Me....

Doomed

Sugar Rush...Banging My Head Againist The Wall

"Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves." ~Henry David Thoreau







"You cannot dream yourself into a character; you must hammer and forge yourself one. " ~James A. Froude


"Trying to define yourself is like trying to bite your own teeth." ~Alan Watts


Am I Cursed with Awesome?

Today I want to change.

I'm sick of being told what I can and can't do! I want to dress like a pirate and host a tea party on the ceiling. And I want you to tell me that that doesn't sound crazy, at all.


I'm sick of being told how i feel, or what I meant by doing something. It's me, Not you. forging an identity in this ice storm. Trying to see through the sand, to live to the heat. And when will it ever get hot again? It's so fucking cold, I keep thinking I'll freeze my toes off. Today, I tripped on a patch of ice on my way to school, and had to go in covered in snow

Graceful...As always.

But then again, I've had worse klutz moments, like when me and my ex were running across a street without a crosswalk (Jay-walking is fun! It's the only danger I've got left) and i trip over the curb and go flying onto the grass in front of the sidewalk. Or when after doing something in the caf, with my vocal class last year, I went to lean on a table that wasn't fully unfolded, and completely fell over.

I am the biggest Klutz in the world! I even trip over my own feet!

It's always at the worst possible times. Whenever I'm trying to impress someone.

If you knew me, and saw how much of a boring goody-goody I seem to be, it would shock you to see that I want to get a bunch of ear piercings and always wear hoops and studs with my dangling ones. I have plans for at least two tattoos, a red winged heart with a treble clef in the middle, on my hip, and a rosary bracelet looped around my right wrist, I'm not religious at all, I just like the way it looks.They'll also be motivation to stay thin.


This Valentine's Day, I'll be alone. Again. Somehow my short relationships never seem to corespond with the date. So I'll pamper myself with a face mask, black nail polish, an obsenely large box of chocolates and "Paris Je t'aime" or "Lolita" playing illegally on my laptop. God, I love Valentine's candy! Ooh those little conversation hearts (yellow and white only) and those cinnamon hearts! I love trying to see how many I can handle in my mouth before it gets to hot, or I burst out laughing. (this sentance sounds vaguely sexual. All completely accidental, I swear)

And as much as I complain about being alone, It does allow me a freedom to make my own plans, and to decide who i am, and who I want to be, on my own terms. More and More, I'm realizing that I am becoming a person that I love. A person I would fall in love with. So easily.


I love that I get a chance to create myself independant from anyone else, cultivate my own identity seperate from anyone else, or from what they expect me to be.


I can be who I want, regardless of who anyone wants me to be. I can keep my head in the clouds and my feet floating aimlessly above the ground.


I laugh bemused at the picture of me, and I know exactly what I'll be. For now...
Today, I'm excited by my bright orange nails, my waved hair (which is somehow fading back to blonde in patches), My red cheeks, My perfectly fitted jeans, and baby doll shoes. But in my uniform I feel like a lemming without the sense to stray from the herd, and ready to fallow them off a cliff, and it's feeling increasingly like pajamas expecially in the sunshine coming out of the portables. Its pathetically surreal, with everyone in the same outfit, freezing to death worse in the fridgid school than outside in the negative twenty degree weather, seriously my teeth chattered all through english today (ever hear of heating, BR?) And getting covered in salt everyday as I trudge home from school, falling over myself and laughing like a crazy person (your theories on space zombies make sense to me!)

I seriously think I want to burn it when I graduate. I said the same thing about my math textbook, but I decided it wasn't worth 60 bucks, and my notebook, full of crap poems and bubblegum drawings was worth much more. If I ever succeed, my math notebook can be part of my exhibit at the Met....or the Halton Regional Museum. (scary)
So much for catharsis!

The more bored I am in a class, the more creativity I get through. And math was always the thorn in my side. Explaining my notebooks full of fashion designs in grade nine and ten, and my pathetic poetry explosion last year (should I actually waste my time trying to get my book published?).


Today, I had what i can only decribe as an out-of-body experience. I was on my way to history class, and I looked in the glass of the school doors and saw a careless, dark haired girl, who was laughing and not looking at where she was going. I thought she was kind of pretty, in a childish way, and I just watched for a second. She didn't move, I didn't move and I realized that she was me. And I thought for a minute, I actually get to be her! I actually get to walk around feeling this way!

Secretly,
I've never really felt pretty. And it has nothing to do with feeling fat, I feel better now than I did at 80 pounds in grade nine, better than at 90 pounds in grade 10, and I'm much worse at the moment, and no longer bordering on Anorexia. Sometimes now, I get a glimpse of myself and think of myself as pretty, and then I feel guilty. I've been raised to deeply into karma, and even though I don't believe in religion, or a God, persay, I'll admit...my mother got to me. I keep thinking that if I think things like this, I'll get punished and be made to look ugly, and actually ugly, not just the ugliness I feel when, I look in the mirror after letting myself have something as simple as a chocolate bar, or after failing at something, I had my heart set on (It happens too often) . Then I have to recount it by thinking of myself as worthless, and pig-like and banging my head againist the wall.

Maybe its my glasses. I hate them, but I blink too much to get the fucking contacts into my eyes, and for now I'm stuck. I swear, though as soon as I'm old enough, I'm getting laser eye surgery. I don't care about danger or pain. I'm just
But without the glasses, I look like a child, and my face looks almost indecently revealed, like I am used to seeing, myself behind veils, behind wisps of gauze.


But that's not even My biggest problem.
The trouble is...While I know exactly who I am and where I want to be, I'm having a hard time expressing it.

Sometimes I think I am only able to be myself, alone in front of the mirror, when everyone else's asleep. I still dress-up, in crazy, ankle breaking heels and strands of derelict pearls. I pander, and vamp, pretending to be more than a silly girl in costume, pretending to actually slip into other people's lives, so I can escape my own.

I'm Mrs. Lovett with my hair pinned back at haphazard angles, in a black lace shirt, thick belt, short skirt and combat like boots. I'm Alice in my little blue dress, the pinafore my mother bought me when i was six, stripped stockings, and heeled maryjanes. I'm a John Waters Character in leopard print leggings, black beetle boots, a denim skirt and stolen leather jacket. I'm Harley Quinn in a red dress from elementary school that used to reach my knees, and now barely covers my thighs, my card suits jewelry, one leg in a red stocking, one in black, and my hair in high pigtails. I'm a Little Girl with low braids, kneesocks, and Dr. Pepper lip smackers. I'm a Doll with a hairbow, circles of blush on pink cheeks, exagerated eyeliner, and bright red lipstick on the middle of my lips making them small and heart shaped.
I have fun. But then on Halloween, I show up a school in a stupidly matching black and orange outfit, and look like I was scared to live a little. No, I'm not just dressed in 'spirit colours', I'm a Scaredy cat!

Next year, I'm going as Dorothy and If I get to Oz, I'm never going back to Kansas! I'll have to get those ruby red sequined converse.

In history class monday, we reviewed the Great Person Theory, that great, larger-than-life figures, both good and evil (although things are never truly as black and white, or as opposing in forces. There's so much ambiguity and grey area in real life). And i realized something I've always known.

I'm not a great person.

I'm a leech, a hanger-on. I'll exist on the cusp, the sidelines of history. I'll be devoted and obsessed, a loyal follower of greatness, but it won't really touch me, or shine my way. I'm a shadowboxer, a bobby soxer, who only exchanges crosswords. Clashing by night. I'm a supporting player, but the drama has yet to begin.

You know what would be interesting? If they left us to our own devices, cut us off , at the knees, and set our world out to sea. Us left in what's let of the World. In a veritable No Man's Land.
Things would be different. We'd see chaos rule.
I think I could hold my own.
I'd arm myself with a stapler and a cheese grater, and have a good time crawling through the chaos.
'Cause I've a got tricks of my own! No matter how weak and disturbed I may seem.
It'd probably do me some good to let it out.

A Serious Earth? Perish The Thought

I'm wondering if two nemesises (nemesisi?) can ever do each other in, or if they'll just keep fighting forever? If they're two sides of the same coin, two of a kind in suits, can one exist without the other? Or is it an eternal battle? Until the world just, up and ends.
I think so. But I don't have anything, a nemesis or a soul mate, at least not yet. Maybe someday.
Where are MY Lovers and Madmen? How long must I wait?

Seriously stand back, I'm gonna snap

"You're not a king, Jack. Just a Fool" - Scriptie Lger.


"Madness, as you know, is like gravity. All it takes is a little push!" - The Joker, TDK

And is it really true? Am I one day away?


Why am I so fucking cryptic? Do i think someone will decipher the code, and fall in love with me?
Do I make obscure coments and references, in hopes that someone will get them , and i'll find someone, who I'm meant for?

My strange and self abuse warrents hard use.

"i love you
i miss you
i cannot see your face
invent a new persona
drunk here on the edge of space
all the things i carry with me
and all the things i left behind
and all the things that wait to meet me
hover in the air tonight
if i can only keep on moving
and never stop and think of me
and free fall through the years and decades
terminal velocity"

- Charlotte Gainsbourg, AF607105

I'm not scared of all those french films about trains. I say bring 'em on. I watched an hour of Edie Sedgwick talking out of focus, in "Poor Little Rich Girl".


But I just love this. This. This is what I want:
Andy Warhol: I wonder if people are going to remember us?
Edie Sedgwick: What, when we're dead?
Andy Warhol: Yeah.
Edie Sedgwick: Well I think people will talk about how you changed the world.
Andy Warhol: I wonder what they'll say about you... in your obituary. I like that word.
Edie Sedgwick: Nothing nice, I don't think.
Andy Warhol: No no, come on. They'd say, "Edith Minturn Sedgwick: beautiful artist and actress...
Edie Sedgwick: ...and all around loon.
Andy Warhol: ...Remembered for setting the world on fire...
Edie Sedgwick: ...and escaping the clutches of her terrifying family...
Andy Warhol: ...Made friends with eeeeverybody, and anybody...
Edie Sedgwick: ...creating chaos and uproar wherever she went. Divorced as many times as she married, she leaves only good wishes behind. [laughs]
Edie Sedgwick: That's nice, isn't it?

-Factory Girl

Yes. It is.
Stand Back...'Cause

I'll self destruct on 5.

1
2
3
4
5!!

Blast-Off,


Your Catch of The Day

Behind Blue Eyes

I am dreading going back to school tommorrow. My last semester ever, and I'm scared of English class. I heard I lot of people failed, or got really low marks, and I always end up too poetic for standard essays. I am also worried about Writer's Craft, what if my teacher thinks I'm a bad writer? I've always defined myself as a writer, and that could just put me over the jagged edge of this glass cliff.

At least its almost over. At least i'm nearly free. I can't wait for spring, so I can go still in the grass under an old tree, and forget my cares, do nothing but make daisy chains, and walk about barefoot.
I need peace sign earings!

Six Songs That Don't Help, But Just Tolerate The Stress:
1 The Songs That We Sing - Charlotte Gainsbourg
2 Bleed Like Me- Garbage
3 Godless- The Dandy Warhols
4 Carpetbaggers- Jenny Lewis
5Creepy Crawl- Be Your Own Pet
6 Lullaby-The Cure

So I've been Thinking- This is dangerous. You should really just run.

I am a mutant. We all are, really but sometimes I think I'm worse.
do blue eyes make you sadder? I've heard that.
Make you melancholic? Feel more of the world? I've heard it all.
But does it just give me an excuse for the way I feel? I'm just a normal girl who thinks too much. Who lets herself, loses herself to daydreams when i should be living. Will I regret this when I'm old? Will I feel like I've never actually lived my life?
I'm afraid.
I'm very afraid- It's like something about 'that Twilighty-show about that zone'

How far can casualty slip into our lives?
Can it slip beneath our sheets? Under our sinful skin?Inhabit Us?
Can we picnic under the dark stars and talk of chaos and corruption?
Can we act it out? Bring the glorified flesh to life?
Stand together at the top of the world, hold hands as it explodes, like in Fight Club?
Can we watch the world burn around us? Dreamland burns blue to those who see the world through heavy eyelashes and blue, blue eyes.

Why is that I can think so much? Who will I be when I reach the finish line, alone with no one to lean on?To catch me when I fall? When I come down from the treehouse? Swinging on a tarzan rope.
Why do I flit so easily from full and complete happiness, to the depths of sadness and crying on the basement floor? I am a million different people from one day to the next.

And most importantly, why can't I think for myself? Why do I ask so many questions? Who am I expecting will answer them for me?Will You?

Once I watched an episode of The Twilight Zone, where a woman who was ugly all her life, and just had surgery to make herself look normal, and pretty like everyone else. Then we see the bandages being removed, and hear that the surgery didn't work, and that she is still ugly. Then we see that the woman is actually beautiful, and everyon else has horribly deformed pig-faces. That's the best episode. it reassure me that maybe I'm not as strange, not as ugly or messed up as I think I am.

It's all about perception.

And what if everyone else is weird and insane, and I'm just the way I'm supposed to be? What if we were all meant to be obsessed, laughing children who cry and laugh for no reason, and cannot concentrate on anything, but my own writings. What if i'm the way we're supposed to be.

There is nothing that no one likes, no matter what it is, there is someone out there who considers it their favourite thing. We consider a movie a failure if only a few million people saw it. But there is nothing out there that doesn't effect someone. There is no life that doesn't touch another, every in dying, alone they warn others to live . To let the cares slip away. Let the handfuls of sand grasped in vain, fall back into the sea. And Liquefy, get lost like us.

What did we ever do without the internet?
When if you wanted to hear a song, see a movie, or know a random fact or date, you would actually have to get up and do stuff, actually have to read the paper, or crack a book. Now we just type a few words on google, and the world's at our fingertips. What has happened to us that people would rather type out responses to each other, and live our whole lives on Facebook or Msn, and be afraid to meet face to face.
I let my words, so distant from life speak for me. I hide behind my keyboard, stab forward with my purple pen, and I'm considered normal!

Every where I turn, I hear that the world is ending. theres corruption everywhere, and all we can think of resounds in conspiracy and doomsday theories.
And I wonder for all our ideas about the world ending, will we destory ourselves before it has a chance.

Save The Humans! The Real Endangered Species. Hunter S. Thompson was right. We are raising a generation of dancers, who are afraid of differing from the norms or following their own beat. We need to get out of line, find our own rhythm, and dance to our own drummer.
We're like the stupid girl in horror movies, who hides in the closet, or runs into the haunted house to get away from the Psycho-Killer (stalking Mainstreet USA).
We're just to stupid for our own good
jUst too stupid to live.
And can I by the Final Girl? Do I want to be, what with the state we're in?

And the Music crescendos, and the masks slip away and we are alone in the blood, on the stage in the spotlight. Alone with ourselves, with our mistakes, No where to run, to hide to leave ourselves.

But This is Opera!
"In opera, you die in act one,and then come back a ghost in act three!"- Blind Mag
It makes no sense. Just like life.

And Here We Have Another Pointless Rant That No One Will Ever Read

So, Long ago i set out down the yellow brick road...

When I was a kid, i would pretend I was Dorothy Gale. I'd put on my mother's red heels, and wander around singing over the rainbow at the top of my childish lungs (god, i was so much louder then). I wouldn't even allow anyone else to sing it, it was "My Song!", no any one else's. I don't have much else but songs,and pretty melodies rushing through my sugar rushing head. And now, I spend my spare time writting this blog, this blog that no one reads, that no one may ever read. And I'm okay with that,this is written for me,not pandering for anyone else.For anyone decides to read it, go ahead,I hope it helps you.

.....And i brought me to this strange pulsing techincolour world.

This week is going to be my hell. I have to write my philosophy essay (the one I've been putting off for months), polish up my psychology project on eating disorders (seriously too close to the topic. I keep thinking with my own experiences!), finish up my Anthro/Psych/Socio seminar (was so tempted to use Everybody's a Little Bit Racist) and study and write my Philosophy exam (but i pretty much lost all my notes)!

I may just crash and burn, and keep crashing, and keep burning until there's nothing left, but me standing in the rain screaming for "them" to turn of the cameras.

And for the record here's the official list of things to get me through this hell week:

• REPO: The Genetic Opera, Sin City, and the Dark Knight (yes, again....)


• Strawberries and Cream, and Ritz Crackers


• Lullaby- The Cure, Colors-Crossfade, Liquefy-The Servant


• Singing along to everything


• My Office and Arrested Development DVDs

Me and my stupid procrastination. My stupid screenwriting, my all consumbing lust.

Fuck! I just can't get anything done! and I keep thinking dangerous thoughts, like I only need a seventy to keep my Carleton acceptance. What if i just didn't do anything?

Its a dangerous path. And I need to get off it.

I'm such a fucking mess. I really need someone to lend me a hand, take me out this shame spiral. This burn-out course. But there's no one, the guys don't fall for the quiet ones. They don't try to get to know, even though i would probably be the absolute best girlfriend ever. Really.

And I blew my chances (damn why must everything be sexual?) when I had them. I at wasn't ready then, I didn't feel the emptyness I do now. It was just flattering, my only examples so far of unrequited love that was directed at me, not from me.Probably the only one I may ever experience (that i know of). I'm getting to the point where I'm thinking of making some big confessions to everyone I've kept in the dark on graduation day. Of running up to a guy kissing him and walking out into the night (well.. it would be day) never to be seen again. That would be culmination, catharthis if anything else.

Did you know you can actually die from laughing? What a way to go! I can only hope.

But sometimes things just get so back that you just gotta step back, look back at the world and laugh. And go out on a laugh, the pefect punchline.

I've had those moments when I laugh uncontrollably for ten minutes (last time my friend took extremely unflatttering pictures of the entire thing)and it is like choking right in the pocket of my throat, but it's like freedom-more than anything else-letting everything else go, fall away. Letting go of who I pretend to be, and giving a glimpse of who I

It's scary, dangerous, and putting myself out there at my most vunerable.

But it may just be the best feeling yet. The perfect way to get though this pointless stuff.

When this week is over, I'll find some reward for my paltry suffering . I don't know what yet. But it will be spectacular... spectacular

I may just be the Cowardly Lion. I've got a heart, sometimes I think it may be too much heart that leads me to desperation and pathetically romantic fantasies, and too much brains and curiousity about everything (I'd open Pandora's box or watch The Ring tape) for my own good. But I can't even carry on a conversation, or talk to the guys I like. I'm seriously lacking in courage.

I lie on the floor, peel myself up and listen to music thinking about destiny.And I lace up my life, tie myself in and try to overcome my burgeoning case of Senioritis. And try to wake up.

It was all a dream... and you were there, and you were there.

And you? You were the greatest one of all.

Is there no place like home? Will I miss it when I move out? Or less likely- will I end up missing Milton, the town I've been trashing since I got here? DOUBTFUL!

-Catch.

And Throw It Back