...back

8.01am feb7/00

i wish i could punch
the sky shatter that
impecable perfection
i hate it i hate it for
its beauty i hate it for
its crystalline stained glass
pink and blue and gold
fucking perfection.
i hate it for its sympathies.
for its all encompassing
grace
its unprejudiced glory
how can any hate stand
in the bace of all that
wonder and not lay
down break down sobbing
How can i stand up to
the sunrise every morning.

She spoke to us yesterday
about the potential need
to sell our house to pay
off lawyer bills. And this
morning she's wondering
how much it would cost
to move a barn into our
backyard.
They'll be harbouring
resentment because my
gloves make a slight
scratching noise as my
pen moves across this
paper.
They'll think these words are
angry angst full of
discontentment because today
I'm wearing monotne with
harsh makeup
They'll assume my lack of
a smile is the same as my
frown and that once again
I've sunk into a pit of
blackness. They assume I
was sending him mushy "Oh,
I love you" messages that
were of very little
importance instead of the
crazy necessary philosophical
notes I left.
They'll assume the song I
requested was cynical because
of the particular band its by.

I don't care but I do.

10.00am
And when I get tired
of staring at the sickness
in their eyes I'll just
look down and stare at
asses and heels and
become one of them
become another drifter.
I'm not all here
today. And I keep wondering
what we're hoping to prove,
what we're hoping to say.
SHUT UP!!!

real journal excerpt:
feb7/00 - I don't really know why I even bother keeping a journal. It doesn't seem to do me very much good. Practice expressing. I even lie about my emotions in here. The problem with this particular book is the inability to write on both sides of the page. I'm in the locker room listening to 33 by the smashing pumpkins. Song of hope. I just finished eating a very (or maybe not at all) nutritious breakfast-on-a-bun by Carol. I'm drinking Chai Tea.Wishing Mike was here. Repeat song. I finally stole my shoulder backpack back from K. I don't know what's up with her lately. BUt I hate the feeling of being millions of miles away from her. And I am. " China, all the way to New York, I can feel the distance getting near" tori, china.
I need obsessions to deal with obsessions. Like he needs addictions to deal with addictions. Not much difference is there? I need more tea. And something to do.... the challenge of the day is to go to all of my classes... and not go to the sickroom. I ought to do History homework, but fuck it. I really do need more tea though.
kc.
later... pd 6 spare. I don't really want to be here, listening to loud music just to drown out the conversation behind me. I can't believe they think they've got it all figured out. I can't believe their presumption. ug!
kc.