Cough Syrup

The more I surround myself with my age group, the easier it is to accept I'm intelligent. I guess. No, I'm 90% sure of it. These people lack some sort of outlook on life, a surreal experience, any input, any character. I stare at them and most radiate pretention, or bleek, blank expressions. All of which I cannot come to terms with in knowing. I want to have friends and I blame myself for not conforming. I rightfully refuse, as I always have.

What do I mean? I don't even know, I just can only give you the explanation is that now when I sleep alone, I drink half a bottle of nyquil, sloppily shove an Oriental eye-mask and melt underneath my down alternative comforter, into my perfect bed. I love waking up and forgetting I even slept. I'm madly in love and keep telling myself now one day I will marry and have a baby. In whatever order it happens, the thought makes me feel strange. I promised myself all my life neither events would ever happen, but I accept them graciously knowing I met my soulmate. I didn't even think I had a soulmate.

I am sometimes so desparate to find something in common with my peers that I just pretend. I pretend to be nice, and stupid. Being stupid is really hard. I feel as though I might as well bang my fucking head against a wall, yelling "blahblahblah! BLAH BLAH BLAH!!!" And drool uncontrolably.

I don't think this life is right for me sometimes because it's easy in a sense I can't explain. It's graying my soul, and driving me mad. I strive to be forgetable mostly, and it makes me sad that I waste so much time doing so. I always say "this life isn't right for me" but I just drink it away and sleep it off.

My head is buzzing right now. A television static mind lulling itself to sleep. Or a fly caught in a light fixture. My hands are light and one with the air; serene and being. My body wants to break out, my skeleton wants to dance and glow in the dark.

I have been spending most of my nights talking to gay men, with my boyfriend. I love it, they are all so wonderful. I don't feel so judged and they don't make me worry if I drink too much. Straight, oversexed, sexist men in our society think it's ok to take advantage of women or degrade them. I hate them. I hate most people though. I wish I had more hope in the normalities of our society, they are so lucky in their ignorance. I am so bitter in my realizations.

what is this?

Type 4 is called The Individualist, The Artist, The Romantic, The Mystic. You want to be gifted, intuitive, original and unique. More importantly, you want to be passionate, true to your feelings and uniquely authentic. You see yourself as sensitive, expressive and spiritual. You would like others to see you as idealistic, emotionally deep and compassionate. Your idealized image is that you are accomplished and special. Motivated by the need to understand and to be understood, you desire experiences that are rich with feeling and meaning. You may find it easier to deal with painful emotions than to deal with the tedium of daily routine. You have the temperament of an artist and long to freely express yourself. You feel your emotions deeply and are not afraid to go emotionally where others fear to tread. This includes having an exquisite, intuitive ability to distinguish between subtle emotions that others often miss. Painfully self-conscious, you are often overly focused on how different you are from others. A true humanitarian, you have a natural passion for protest. At times intense and contrary, you are not afraid to think for yourself and voice your point of view. Nostalgic by nature, you often focus on past experiences. This can lead you to deeper insights or to downward spirals of melancholy and/or painful unresolved feelings. Craving ideal circumstances or love, you often ruminate on what is missing and perceived to be important. Your tendency towards self-absorption is both an asset and liability. It can lead you to deep personal insights that can benefit everyone while feeding your self-deprecating sense of humor; but it can also make you appear to be self centered and disinterested in others. Feeling your own inner world so powerfully, it is good to remember that others’ experiences are just as real for them as yours are for you. When you step out of the river of your emotions, you can bring forth your many talents into the world and express them in a way that is extraordinary and original. You are like the lotus flower growing in the mud that is able to transform emotionally painful experiences into fertilizer for personal growth. Attuned to feelings, you have an uncommon sensitivity when it comes to dealing with suffering. You are not afraid to hear about someone else’s troubles, and you can be a great friend to anyone in emotional pain. You need be seen as artistic, gifted and accomplished. You focus on your individuality and on carving your own distinct image. You need to express your deep feelings and want others to validate your emotions. Whether you are organizing your living space to reflect your refined tastes or engaging in an artistic pursuit, it is essential for your sense of well being that you express your creativity. You avoid feeling lost, disoriented and without personal significance, meaning or direction. You also avoid appearing inadequate, defective or flawed. Most importantly, you have a hidden fear of being emotionally cut off or abandoned. You avoid affectation and anything dull, ordinary, ugly, vulgar, inauthentic or distasteful. You also avoid anything which seems forced or artificial. Your greatest strengths are your deep intuition, creativity and ability to transform painful life experiences into opportunities for profound growth and healing. This enables you to identify what is missing, and like a knight on a quest, you search until you find it or create it. Astute about human nature, you believe that everyone is an individual and that all emotions have value. Profound and insightful, you have an uncanny knack for transforming the dull and the ordinary into the exciting and extraordinary. You are able to see and appreciate what is truly unique, special and rare. Your vice is envy. You’re always worrying that others may have gotten a better deal than you or are being recognized while your talents are being overlooked. Hyper-sensitive, you can be moody, haughty and overly emotional, always seeing the grass as greener and the glass half empty. You can be self-absorbed and temperamental, and tend to over-personalize all life experiences and interactions with others. Capable of being emotionally manipulating or overly critical, you are often unaware of the impact your emotional nature has on others. Remember, that you are like a mystic who sees ‘the river beneath the river’ and are not just the swamp of your emotions. Your attention goes to searching for meaning, noticing what is missing, feelings of melancholy and nostalgia, and longing for the unavailable. You appreciate the special, the humane and the beautiful. You like to put your personal signature on everything that you do. Your refined tastes make you a great critic and someone who appreciates the truly exceptional. Your spiritual journey is to connect to original source and create true meaning. Spiritual growth will come to you when you are able to balance your emotional nature with temperance and equanimity. Keep your powerful emotions in check, and you can create the kind of life that you want. Don’t dwell on the past, and remember to enjoy the pleasure that can be found in each moment. When you have gratitude and the courage to move through your fear of rejection and share your talents, others will honor your original and creative contributions.

the truth

For a while today, I hated you. I hated you for being so beautiful and real. I hated you for waking up at night to find your arms around me. I hated your honesty and the way you make people relax when you are around them. I hated you for loving me unconditionally. You have called me on years of cheap emotion and cruelty that came from my fears. When you look at me and smile I no longer feel scared or feel the need to run out of the room gasping for air. You don’t make me feel like life is a waste of time and that all you get is cold sweating, dark moments in small rooms all over the world, spending time with other desperate characters who are tearing the path across the night skies of desolation.

-H.R

Gone Mental

Listening to all of the Ramones first three records really make me wonder how I got this way. I really shouldn't be Dee Dee, it's not the life anyone would desire. But I'm some mopey drone that turns into some monster when I'm drunk by myself. These songs used to be so pure but now thye reak of a lot of pain and things that I should have never gone through. When I was younger listening to these songs, I understood feeling apathetic but there's a time to grow out of it. I just...haven't. I haven't changed much at all in my life, there are no accomplishments. My boyfriend and I were talking to his younger brother about football practices and band camp during the summer. And he just says how I spent all my summers in high school on drugs, and I don't wanna be that person at all. I walked the streets back home by myself and wondered why I never made anything of myself, spending my last few dollars on cigarettes. I sat in the park at the elementary school I grew up at, and I felt so lost. I can speak broken spanish to my Cuban "grandmother", who is fading fast due to Alzheimer's, and old family friends can tell me how much I've grown and let my brother's fiance feed me alcohol behind my parents' back but these things don't matter in essence. I can walk out of Webster Hall from my brother FDNY Medal Day onto the streets and sneak a smoke and walk by myself in the stores, but I'm just out of place, out of sight with reality.

Everyone says they envy my relationship but it has so many problems. I got drunk the other night by myself and freaked out and ended up single, all in my own head. Today was the first day we saw each other since and things just hurt. I push people away when I want them there, only because I want to beat them to the end. I wish I knew how to keep people here, because I do love them in all honesty. I really do have a big heart with lots of love to give but I'm so bitter. Maybe it's how I was raised and how I fauxpaux raised myself. I don't wanna take people for granted, the ones I love. I should tell them I love them more, I should stop arguing and having freak outs so much. Sometimes I can't get outta my bed til 3 in the afternoon, I have watched the sunrise countless times already on my summer break. I have nothing going for me and I should. Soon it will be too late.

Bird Mad Girl

The sun is rising again. I am smoking a cigarette. I have seen the sun rise for the past week. It's lonely. All the world around me is so quiet, other than a car every half hour. I haven't gone out much lately. All I do is read, paint and clean. I watched the fireworks tonight with Addison from our swing set. We walked around all night.

I leave for New York in less than four days.

A peom by Bukowski

Take a few minutes of your life and read this. I need to pluck my eyebrows, I hate to groom.

"I am a panther shut up and bellowing in
cement walls, and I am angry at blue
evenings without ventilation
and I am angry with you, and it will come
like a rose
it will come like a man walking through fire
it will shine like an unseen trumpet in a trunk
the eyes will smell like sausages
the feet will have small propellers
and I will hold you in Bayonne and
the sailors will smile
my heart like something cut away from
cancer will feel and beat again feel
and beat again—-but now
the blue evening is cinched like old
muskets and the dangling sex rope hangs
as the tree stands up and calls:
July. the dust of hope in the bottom of paper cups
along with small spiders that have names like ancient
European cities; spit and dross, heavy wheels;
oilwells stuck between fish and sucking up the grey gas
of love and the palms up on the cliff waving
waving in the warm yellow light
as I walk into a drugstore to buy toothpaste,
rubbers, photographs of frogs, a copy of the latest
Consumer Reports (50 cents) for I consume and
am consumed and would like to know
on this blue evening
just which razorblade it would be best for me
to use, or maybe I could get a station wagon or buy a
stereo or a movie camera, say 8mm, under $55
or an electric frying pan … like the silver head
of some god-thing after they drop the bomb BANG
and the grass gives up and love is a shadow
and love is a fishtail weaving through
threads that seem eyes but are only what’s
left of me on the last blue evening after the bands
have suicided out, the carnival has left town and
they’ve blown up the Y.W.C.A. like a giant balloon and
sent it out to sea full of screaming lovely lonely
girls."

Pay To Cum

I feel as though I'm fighting a war against humanity. It seems people become more and more stupid, the more isolated I am from them and the older I get. They all wanna fit into some little circle because they aren't comfortable in their own skin. I, for one, might sound bitter but I just have so much hope for us. Rad Fest was cool, saw people who a) don't like me or b) I'd love to bash in their fat heads until there is no blood left, a skull and skin drained of life.

I've stayed with Addison lots and had to deal with his stupid drug addict roommate. I've been drinking almost everyday, going to bed drunk and waking up in room that must be about 90 degrees, which makes me either throw up or feel sick until I hydrate myself, Gatorade has become a dear friend in recent weeks. Anyway, this dude is completely void of consideration for human beings AND animals. No one treats the one person I whole heartedly love and gets away with it. Needless to say, I almost knocked his teeth out and bashed his skull in with thick mary janes. Can't say you haven't lived in shit until see some dude beat his dog senseless in front of your teary eyes because his dog ate HIS weed HE LEFT out. I have watched him pick up his puppy up to his shoulders and slam her into the ground. As someone who loves animals deeply, and more so than humans it's something hard to swallow. He will get his once he realizes there are maggots crawling up the stairs of "his" porch and staircase. They're comin for you. No one abuses my best friend, verbally and physically. We may drink a lot but at least our faces aren't melting off from smoking pills on tinfoil. Also, my relationships aren't strictly based on fucking. I hope he enjoys the pillow I so viciously stabbed and the wooden pipe with holes in it now. I had to help Addison move out Sunday morning, it felt weird but it's right. I'm proud of him for finally getting out of that shithole.

The other night I had to deal with more despicable men while walking to the gas station for cigarettes and something cheap to eat. It was around midnight, and I was wearing a skirt and a t shirt. Addison had gone somewhere to get beer and I was gonna meet up with him afterwards. These two dudes were across the street, in Carolina Beach. I had seen them from a distance and hoped they wouldn't harass me. Wishful thinking, huh? They began to holler towards me, I looked up and waved, crossing the street diagonally to avoid them. "Hey, you stupid bitch! I was just trying to be nice, you could at least say what's up?" My blood boiled, because since I had grown into my body, this is what men expect as a welcoming of sorts: trying to make me feel disgusting for being somewhat attractive. I spotted a cop outside the gas station who I have seen before walking late at night on the beach and who has offered me a ride, which I've always drunkenly declined to. "Excuse me? Did you really just say what I think you did? I said hello to you, you fuckface. You need to learn some manners before someone else teaches them to you." I yelled back to the two guys who then looked at one another, half shocked that I retaliated, and I was surprised then that they didn't come after to me. Maybe it was because I was headed towards the cop. I smiled at him obnoxiously. "Good evening, ma'am. How're doing?" he said politely as he was trying to arrest a man outside the gas station. "Just fine, how are you doing? You have a good night, be safe." I had rubbed spit and smoke over my breath so he didn't smell the alcohol on me and give me a hard time as well. I looked back over to the two guys who just pretended like they weren't just trying to be cute and hit on me, fuck it. They headed on their merry way and I did as well. Addison laughed at what happened when I told him. He is proud of me now, no one talks to me in a deragotory way anymore and gets away with it. Full confrontation.

I wish I dealt with decent human beings who found life to be more than drinking tallboys in cute little koozies and having the most grand of social lives. But it's hard. I am not a mean person, I think I'm pretty nice. I'm just awkward and shy but after a while, I am always nice to people. I make it a point to make people feel good about themselves, those who deserve it. Some people don't hear it enough that they are funny, smart, beautiful, handsome, etc.

A lot of private and shitty things are happening with Addison's family life. I won't disclose them but I enjoy the fact he respects my opinion and even listens to what I have to say about the situation. It's hard to believe it at times because my own family doesn't respect my opinion most of the time and finds I am speaking out of line. I evaluate people from a far enough distance that I can give a perspective most people don't fathom usually. I have a lot of insight that comes with care and consideration. I don't want to soil or ruin reputations or lives of people who are going through very tough transistions. The developement of an individual is a delicate thing that cannot be damaged by harsh judgement and ridicule. Unless, it is absolutely needed. People do need support, as much as it sounds I want to destroy people. They need to be put down to size at times but a lot of people are just looking for their identity. If we all had our identities then none of us would have to fit in social cliques and circles to feel like we "belong." I sound silly, I'm done. I am gonna go to a pool to hang out with Addison's sister-in-law and her adorable little baby who was the first one I ever held. We're gonna gab and goo goo gaga with one another. Have a good day.

Bracelet

DIY hair cuts...pretty liberating. Purple hair, pink hair, crazy hair. People don't like me anymore and I don't care. My fuse is short, I am failing college. I don't care anymore.

Another shitty birthday. Thanks a lot for having to ruin it.

Her hair was blue, now it's
Green. I like her mind.
She hates the scene.
You're on your own. You're all
Alone.

Things are really shitty currently. I start classes again tomorrow, but I'm going nowhere with my life. What's the point

I just realized Rob Zombie's birthday is a day after mine. Kind of funny considering I was in love with him when he first came out as a solo artist in like '98. The tattoos, the horror movie fascination, the hair, the clothes, those boots. He is basically the perfect man. I still have that album somewhere since I stole it from my brother. I was so cool back in the day, seriously. I think I need to start being a bitch. I wish I could eat pizza with sracha(sp?) chili sauce and cherry soda for the rest of my life. Turning nineteen doesn't seem that exciting, birthdays aren't exciting at all. I need to do something with my life, I'm disatisfied with how things turn out about 78% of the time. What the fuck, why do I still even live at home? I'm living a lie. I hate all you stoners and your silly weed. And I hate your opiate smoking habits that leave me with the foily after-taste and a five minute high that just gets me giggly and drinking more than I ought to. My rambling is done.

And I'm tired of sleeping with myself, and I'm tired, all these drinks and drugs no longer help

Christmas weekend has been interesting. I stayed up until sunrise as usual Christmas morning and fell asleep for a couple of hours until my mother woke me up for presents. I knew what I had already gotten and I was stoked. I finally have a fitting leopard coat, heart shaped tights, dresses, a sweet floral cardigan. I have pink hair and both my parents actually like it. Maria picked me up after Christmas dinner and we drove in the torrential downpour an hour and some minutes to Southport to meet her potential significant other, we saw Sherlock Holmes. I was stoked, I like Robert Downey Jr., but it wasn't the Sherlock I remember. We went back to this kid's house and I had to sit with his obnoxious friend while Maria and boy snuggled until we drove back to Wilmington. Not realizing my phone had zero signal, and it was somehow already dying, I never got any messages Addison left. She dropped me off around 3 and he was outside, obviously drunk, pissing over the porch. He was so worried and mad at me and I then saw I had a few voicemails all from him. I finished the last beer, took care of him and we talked until the sun rose then slept in. Saturday, I decided to stay over again and he bought us lunch, then we began drinking some beer and eventually moved on to Tequila. We shared some drugs with roommates and I heard all the guys talking about me, I guess in a positive way. Addison and I were busy watching the Dexter marathon and when we finished our 12 pack we tried to rush to the gas station 10 minutes until 2am, closing time. We missed it by two minutes but some dude bought us nacho cheese, I was so stoked. So the others came back from the bar, red faced, stumbling. Addison and I made our nachos and played video games then we watched Lost Boys until we were too sleepy. We slept in yesterday until 3-4pm, and then I finally got my milk shake and his dad picked us up.

I love my man. New Year's is gonna be great. I have to re-dye my hair though. You should have smelt the shit I put in it to get the blue out, it barely came out and made me strangely blonde. Hair is crazy.

Pabst and Camels

Life is going alright. Every night, when it is still considered night; where all the sleepyheads of the world are wrapped in their dreams and the drunk party people are drooling in their restless sleeps with a stranger or something like that, I am awake before the sun rises lying in my bed wondering why the sky looks so big and dusty at this time. The stars glitter and shimmer before my heavy eyes, they're dim and gentle, dainty drips of light. When I finally fall asleep once I hear more than one car in a fifteen minute time span, I sleep for a short spurt, my bones keep me awake, randomly pulling me to wake. I stay in my pajamas until the sun sets and he takes me away from this house. My hair is pink now, he smiles nervously at it and decides he likes it. I know the person I hate the most's middle initial and somehow this is big news in my head. The stories that formulate, the tears that strain the sheets after only half a case of beer. Sometimes these feelings and painful memories never stop. Sometimes they chase you when you're at your most vulnerable. I told myself for a long time nothing was ever my fault and that I didn't deserve this pain.

The people that surround me when I go out are questionable. I won't ever understand people and how they act or how they think, feel, touch..all of it is futile. Driving in the car, passing by houses decorated for the holidays..why? Well, I don't know but I sure do like the colors all bright and shiny. It's a beautiful display, this town is lit up like home almost. So close to home but it's never just a trip to Nana's anymore. It's fucking far, far enough that the lengths of my heart tear up, they rupture and burst inside my chest making me feel more isolated. But his hand is warm, holding mine and the rings he's placed on my fingers, the cigarettes that balance off between fingers like some acrobat. It's routine, this is routine. Open the case of beer, here's to the rest of the night down our throats in cheap ale and smoke.

Bees Knees..

Oh, Morrissey. So much to answer for. I hear The Smiths this late and I think back to who I was. Thank you little me, I haven't changed much. I'd have kept to a little embarassed, I know it.

Helter Skeltur

I had a dream Charles Manson and I were best friends. It was actually a lot of fun, and apparently I laughed a lot in my dream. We went out with rifles and shot things, not people, I think or something. It was cool, he was really cool and more like a redneck grandpa than anything else. Call me crazy, I know. I see him as a crazy old guy anyways.

Yesterday during the storm, Addison picked me up and we went to his house and set up camp, ha. We had decent beer that kept us warm and ordered pizza and watched Point Break. I have seen Point Break more times than I want to admit. A package was dropped off for the previous occupants of the house and the boys were so stoked because it was a canister of popcorn and other goods, considering they were stoned. I have never seen men such savages for popcorn and snowman aluminum covered chocolate balls in my life before..

After a while, we locked ourselves in his room with pizza and he played video games then he fell asleep and I tossed and turned until 5am when he finally woke up to be nice enough to snuggle and turn on the fan. We drove to Fayetteville to drop his cousin off at the airport, she wasn't very pleasant this week. He and I sat up front and couldn't smoke for 2 and a half hours but we played some great music and the weather got beautiful a couple of hours before the sun set. We waited at the small airport until she checked in then we drove off and got back and just snuggled. I am home now.

I Am Demon

I feel so bad, I can't shake the feeling. I want to say sorry and hope that makes you change your mind. But words can't make someone understand, just a little hope and some time.

And also, lurkers of the world...don't unite and take over. Fuck off, I don't want to see my name plastered on your damn social networks. And I am not the new girlfriend, thanks. I am way cooler than most of you dumb cunts but I'd rather not have to deal with the bullshit you subjectify yourself with just so you can feel important and so-called "empowered."

Anyways, listen to Danzig. I bought hot pink-red hair dye and my mom says I'm gonna stay weird for life.

I want a normal bedtime. I bet tonight will be the third night in a row I watch the sun dimly rise. I haven't been sleeping well, I watch Law&Order: SVU every morning at 4am. I had a dream during a cat nap about that guy and he was so into but I left and ate a sundae in my neighborhood, walking. I am gonna be done with my exams tomorrow finally. All this waiting has drained me. I failed my math final. I decided, again, I am never gonna marry a man like my father. I re-made some shoes today by cutting and painting. I might glitter boots by the end of the week.

"Catch fire,
I'm burning up with you.
Something in the air makes me wonder
Why the hell I'd care about tomorrow
When it's all right here - the wine the hope and you"

Story of my life. I need to start drinking wine. Addison says I've become more girly in recent months.

love

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gtltJcvxwRs&feature=player_embedded

The rain was so peaceful when I woke up this afternoon, I decided not to go to class. I am tired of my bed and my sleeping pattern. I go to bed at 5 in the morning because I talk to Addison late and then Law&Order is on. I am tired of my blue-green hair and I tried dying it over but it didn't really work, goddamnit. I pretty much am done with classes except for a math exam Friday night, then next Tuesday and finally Thursday.

as Lady Gaga says...

I'm a free bitch baby.

Sometimes I wonder if people who constantly complain about their problems in life, have time to appreciate things. And I wonder if only people who are truely fighting their demons inside realize they honestly need to appreciate even the littlest things to get by. I do it everyday, in the bathroom, sitting on the cold porcelain, with water running, I say I am thankful for air and the day even when someone outside is screaming bloody hell at me. I thank the sky for being blue and the clouds to drive by. Even though, it makes me a little sad, I have overcome some demons and learned to realize nothing can really hurt or get to me except myself. I have gotten past self pity and am top of appreciation. I am a very fortunate person and you should feel the same. You are capable to spend time writing about your life, contemplating it, reading others, sharing stories. We have time to be happy but you'd rather fret about people not liking you, or not being good enough, or something else.

It sounds really sad, I have to tell myself how to be happy, over and over and over again. And I do not want to be subjected to being someone I myself would dislike, someone who whines about everything, is unhappy with every aspect of their life or doens't know when to shut up about it. I pride myself in being strong and would never be a burden to others with my emotions. It's just something I never wrapped myself around.