personal ads and prostitution

i just found this, i made it private way back when, don't know why, don't know what it's about

2007-11-29T07:52:02Z

it's one of those nights that convince me that no one in the world understands me.

one friend misunderstands me. i feel horrible and call another who i know will understand the misunderstanding. but then he doesn't. he misunderstands in a completely different way. which is worse than simply repeating the same misunderstanding. it'd feel less hollow if everybody mistook one thing. instead, everything is mistook by at least one body. every single thing is understood by no body. i am typing to this thing because it won't say "i get it" and then prove the opposite.

leaving new york is like eating something new and saying to the chef...."this is delicious....but what is it that tastes so familar?" and then you're told the secret: "just a little bit of sorrow mixed in". just a pinch, but there, on the edge of perception. enough to keep you wondering.

bad_luck_charm @ 2007-07-13T22:54:00

2007-07-14T03:05:28Z

hi live journal.

remember when i used to write? i do. i just don't remember how.

i was thinking about it, though.

thinking about how most of these entries are about boys. and how i've never really written anything at all about thomas. and i was thinking that maybe all the others provided me with the groundwork for embellished feelings. how maybe i can't really write about how i actually feel, that i can only write when i can use it as a tool to take what i feel and turn it into something better or at least more interesting.

how many have i been in love with? if you searched this journal for the answer, you'd have to say at least three or four.

i'd say one. one that you'll find nothing about on these pages.

or is saying that now just my latest manipulation of reality?

i don't think so.

what i think is that the thomas love was enough, unembellished.

and what i know is that the thomas pain is enough, unembellished.

bad_luck_charm @ 2006-08-27T02:34:00

2006-08-27T08:34:49Z

my best friend in denver at the moment is a 34 year old divorcee. i like her because she can tell me about all the mistakes i am bound to make. i've got this sense of urgency about everything lately, and really just want to know what's going to happen, even if it's bad, which it is, if you trust this best friend of mine.

i tell her ALL the things i want. and out of my mouth, it sounds naive and stupid. then she says that ALL i want is direction. and then suddenly it sounds true and profound. and then i get sad, because if there is one thing i am bad at, it is directing all these excesses of energy that find their way into my heart and mind.

she's trying to quit smoking, and as a result i am becoming addicted to her nicotine lozenges. i am given them under the pretense that i'll spit them out at precisely the moment that i can start to taste my heart beat, but it is precisely this moment that i become unable to do so.

tonight, she told me some stories about a man. this man is the love of her life. this man is not her ex-husband. it was the first time that it hit me really fucking hard that circumstance is as powerful as love, that if circumstance and love disagree, you might end up with second best. a blow to me, circumstances with the love of my life being as they are.

i save all of his messages. not even sure why. i just can't bring myself to delete his voice, even when it lacks any affection, even when it speaks of things that aren't actually worth ever listening to again. i wonder when i'll stop. i wonder why i'll stop.

sometimes i forget that sometimes some boys find me attractive. then suddenly it hits, like a moment of soberness amidst a drunken haze. this guy's hitting on me. this guy likes me. this guy has invested something in the stupid conversation that i was having just to have a fucking conversation. and then the haziness reemerges, and i feel a vague sense of saddness realizing how and how easily people find their second best.

i came home to my parent's house. said hello to my mother, listened to her gripe about how late it was, inquire about my whereabouts. i stand in her doorway, head braced on the door frame. i step out of my shoes, leaving them aligned perfectly, side by side, stare at my feet. i'm not listening to my mom, i'm far away. i'm thinking that if i made a movie, this scene with my side by side shoes, my head on the door, my eyes tracing the curves of my toes, this scene would tell everything there is to know about me.

this is what happens when loneliness and lust converge

2006-02-08T21:30:42Z

he was beautiful and he mad me laugh.

right then, that was enough. and so, i loved him in that way i always love strangers when i'm not really loving anyone else. i'm lonely, and for so long now, nobody's really been able to reach me. and these beautiful strangers come along, and they probably don't reach me either, but they're not supposed to, so it feels okay.

we spoke of strange addictions. diet coke and xylitol. i didn't mention to him that he was my strangest addiction, he and every other stranger that says something to make me laugh or cry or think or feel. that stays long enough that i can love him and short enough that i can forget him before i don't love him anymore. i've been madly, madly in love with so many. which is odd, because if you could ever catch me in a completely sincere moment, i'd say i've never been in love at all. in the end, they're all strangers. but at the time, i'd give them it all. every single one of them.

i can't decide if it's affection i'm craving, or just affectionless passion. if i had wooed that latest love of my life home with me, i'd have been content to spend the entire night without tenderness or words. or i'd have been content to spend the entire night without lusts or orgasms. i would have been content to spend the entire night.

it's not really so much about what we do. it's about doing it together. just taking the fucking time to share this stupid existence. to just lie in the middle of something shared, be that despair, or ecstasy, or a puddle of fucking cum.

of course, in spite of those dark eyes that never once moved from my light ones, in spite of the grey sweatshirt that embraced him so perfectly it looked like his own skin, in spite of his candlelight journaling, and in spite of every word he spoke that made me laugh and love and lust, it had nothing to do with him. everything to do with me. where i'm at. what i need. what i don't need but think i do. what i know i don't need but still really want.

he could have been anyone. sitting there, with the loneliest version of myself, he was everyone.

i should stop only talking to him....

2006-01-10T00:12:21Z

1/6/2006
travis,
i'm not sure if i'm writing to you or writing to me, but your name on the top of the page makes this feel less lonely. i'm at 15,614 feet (god bless in seat televisions), enjoying the last few moments of the three hours of nonexistence as i pass once more between my two lives. so strange. i am always dreadfully depressed leaving one and hours later disgustedly excited arriving at the other. regardless of whether the plane flies east or west. the time between departure and arrival is always devoid of any emotion whatsoever. i always enjoy that time. being nowhere and nobody. unaffecting, unaffected. uncommitted. invisible. profoundly free in that invisibility.

we're landing. looks like once again that sick feeling i get when stepping on to these death traps is wrong. in a way its sad...nobody will ever take me seriously until bits of my body are found scattered amongst bits of wrecked plane. but that's alright...i've not much vested in being taken seriously, at least not in my more catastrophic moments.

we haven't even landed yet and already the sun is lost to me. i fear the gloom will render me a gloomy person myself. i hate that fear. a feel so weak and vulnerable a person when a little excess of water vapor can not only block out the sunshine, but also the many blessings in my life.

suburbs are so ugly alongside a river. only trees and travis are aesthetically pleasing to me on waters edge.

it was easy not to miss you when i was where you never were. now i am at the portland airport, eyes already peeled for your red coat. i hope eugene will be okay without you. i hate that your car is parked in front of my house falsely advertising your presence.

i must get off the plane now. it's raining and i love you. how beautifully dreadful.

1/9/2006
well baby baby,
it's still raining. you're still on the river. i'm still on my darkly pensive kick.

i'm grouchy but trying. first night i just wanted to hide in my room, but i forced myself to join in the late night mud football game. it was great, fun, blah blah blah. really helps to beat the shit out of the people you love when you're out of sorts. but upon returning home, as fun as it was all i really wanted was to crawl into a bath with you and wash the mud out of each others hair. fall asleep in your arms. the bed is cold without you, perhaps i'm a bit cold myself.

saturday was the elvis party. again fun and all the appropriate euphamistic adjectives. again not enough.

something's lacking. maybe you, maybe sunshine, maybe just brain chemistry. obviously introspection if i can't figure it out.

the thing is, i am not really connecting with ANYBODY. not even kathryn, which saddens and scares me. i've not been alone much, but i've been lonely always.

to make myself feel better, i try to remind myself that it doesn't matter, that most of these folks will disappear soon anyway. but then i get sad thinking about how impermanent everything is, and wonder why bother with this whole life thing when before you know it, NONE of it matters, or ever mattered to begin with. and then i think about death and get scared of the event itself, and scared of never being able to find something more profound and lasting before it gets to me. which is totally self defeating, as obviously the only thing keeping me from doing great things is my shoddy attitude.

luckily, i've not been totally dehabilitated by despair. i'm making great efforts. the whole house has decided to get healthy, so we go on roommate runs and cook good foods and read together, etc. i'm dedicated to my classes (since most are just for fun), and to doing all the things that need to be done. i am being productive, i am just being an absolute shit while doing it.

and in the meantime, i write to you. and try to decide if maybe i shouldn't. would it be better if we just lived our separate lives for a while, or maybe forever? is it unhealthy for me to keep confiding in only you, with you so far away and others so close? am i keeping you from doing things you should be doing? keeping myself from doing things i should be doing? i don't know. i don't know how long to let myself love you. especially when maybe you've never really loved me. i am not saying that with any sort of negative feelings behind it. i am just sort of putting it out there, in case it's true and we just sort of overlook it for convenience's sake. you did say yourself that you weren't "sure if you meant it". maybe it's just all this uncertainty in my life that is making me crazy.

i don't know why i am in such a mood. i hope it's not affecting you. i think sometimes when my world seems to start falling apart, i find it easier to aid in the destruction than to try and keep it all together. i've a bit of a bullying antagonist in me.

i write to relieve myself of emotional burdens. sometimes i'll say things in the prettiest, most dramatic way possible, as opposed to the most accurate way. this effect always makes me feel better, but perhaps others feel worse. so just know that in all of this there is a touch of artistic embellishment, and perhaps forgive me for my flare for dramatics.

i do love you. it's one thing i can say that is pretty, dramatic, and accurate at the same time. maybe that's all you should take from any of this. that your absence has left a bit of a hole, leaving me dating the internet and books of poems.

i should eat something. maybe the sun's come out.

all of my love, rach

bad_luck_charm @ 2005-12-24T15:08:00

2005-12-24T23:12:13Z

driving past colfax and wads. remembering. candace and i up all night, perfecting a spanish project. vigil gave us a D, said we had no enthusiasm. to us, this was the ultimate injustice... we lacked entushiasm because we were tired, after the sleepless night spent putting extra and unneccessary effort into the damn thing. we boycotted class for two weeks. instead spent those hours eating breakfast out. colfax and wads.

the restaurant is now just a few of the hundreds of parking spaces for lakewood's latest super walmart. candace is now a navy something or other who i talk to twice a year. vigil is now a bitter divorcee, who regards candace and i as the two best students he's ever instructed.

everything's changed. my past has been paved over. i used to feel like i owned these streets, now i feel that they own me. it's not so bad. i've found so much freedom in my unattatched state. and i think i have been using it mostly for good. i've been having a good time at least.

to sum up my last few weeks, i've either been on a run or on a binge. fortunately, they both offer great opportunities for self reflection. unfortunately, i have mostly just been reflecting on the fact that i have oftentimes, at least recently, been a bad person, for reasons that i don't care to elaborate on. trust that i plan to atone.

bad_luck_charm @ 2005-12-14T12:51:00

2005-12-14T19:58:24Z

that last entry sucked. re-read and deleted.
that's the problem with writing too much. i start to think that i can treat my life as a story. but i am learning. life cannot be scripted and edited. people cannot be made better than they are just by inserting the appropriate adjectives in front of their names.
i'm learning to love this place again. sky is that color of blue that doesn't exist in oregon.
i should probably smoke some pot while i'm here, just for the novelty.
life is good.

bad_luck_charm @ 2005-12-09T17:46:00

2005-12-10T02:15:12Z

this week i lost:
my most prized possession, my favorite earings, interest, libido, an A+, travis. me duele mi vida.

luckily, after 30 hours of insanity, my most prized possession was found... ocd pays off every now and then. but still, i am looking forward to mr. a.j.e. in one day (ready or not baby), and the rockies in three. if the former doesn't get me out of this funk, i certainly shall take a friend's advise and stand atop the latter screaming "fuck this, fuck that, fuck me, fuck you, fuck the world, fuck hard, fuck soft, etc..." that's a fuck load of fucking, better try and get my libido back. it's not really lost, it's just in china. fuck china.

i washed him out of my sheets and clothes today. started going through the motions of letting go. but his hair is still on my bathroom floor, his bracelet still on my wrist, and every email he's ever sent is still in my inbox. but were i to sweep and cut and delete, he'd still be everywhere. that's okay. this is okay. i am okay.

bad_luck_charm @ 2005-12-05T09:56:00

2005-12-05T18:17:52Z

12 am. fall asleep with him. for the last time.
4 am. wake up to him. for the last time.
6 am say goodbye. for the last time.
drive 105 of the lonliest miles on earth. arrive to 8 am final just one minute late, exhausted, heartbroken, apathetic to all things outside of the heartbreak. especially to biology. do what i can. leave with the realization that that was just the first moment of a long week of obligations and to-dos. they could be have-dones but these last weeks i ignored all areas of life that travis didn't touch. and now it's too much and i'm too tired and too broken. maybe after a long nap. maybe not.

i should say something to the effect of how glad i am i ever even got the chance to share some things with him, make some attempt to make this a good-person big-girl break up. follow through with all the niceties...but the fucking thing is this...

i don't feel any of that. and i am sure as hell not interested in pretending that i do, or that i am anything that resembles a mature and put together individual.

i feel icky. my heart is in between my teeth and it tastes like ice. though easier to get through, harder to get down.

i am really going out of my way to avoid people. only because i literally cannot talk. i couldn't talk then either. he whispers in my ear "goodbye rachel morr", and i just stand there speechless,helpless, biting his shoulder just hard enough to keep my jaws from shaking. eventually i muttered something. i'm sure it was stupid.

this whole thing is stupid.

poo on robbie

2005-11-30T20:58:39Z

back from the dead....thank mr. andrew eastman.

"The author writes to disembarrass himself of painful memories; he is not concerned with the reader, but only with his own liberation." -W. Somerset Maugham

i guess i've changed my mind. spy away.

bad_luck_charm @ 2005-11-27T22:03:00

2005-11-28T06:03:55Z

feel like hell. caffeinated. exasperated. nauseated.
first two are easy enough to explain. but nauseated, that’s complicated. some from days past. mistakes made in the summer, hanging on and haunting. some from present, being back. being back to it. some from days to come. a sad goodbye. a few scattered dates that mean too much to me. this day in history. these days in those words. reading those words. and remembering. and envying the girl that wrote them and the world that received them. wishing to rewrite and rewrite and rewrite. but that’s plagiarism. i am not her and i don’t have the things she had and so cannot say the things that she said. i am out of my mind. caffeinated. it does that to me.

i hate when people rake their leaves into the bike lane. hate it so much. i hate the room i ran out of and the reason for running. i hate the way that creep said “goldilocks” and the way he made me so scared. i hate that i am not doing what i should be, and those things i am doing instead. waiting waiting waiting. i know better. i hate knowing better.

i’m so grumpy and it’s so fucking stupid.

bad_luck_charm @ 2005-11-17T18:13:00

2005-11-18T02:45:42Z

i forgot to take any music to work today, so my sweetie pie coworker gave me access to his cds. i was flipping through and found "floater". almost exactly four years ago, lauren (near and dear to me at the time) and i were touring the schools of the northwest. every single campus we visited had "floater" posters everywhere and students who would randomly start raving about floater concerts and the like. we, having never heard of them, would exclaim "what the fuck?!?!" at every floater encounter and giggle and giggle. i think she wrote something about floater in my yearbook.

so obviously i had to listen to the fucking cd. i wasn't very impressed with most of the music. however i was impressed by all the nostalgia, the dull ache of remembering things you convince yourself you've forgotten.

four years, and there are still things i feel slightly hollow without. i am wondering what will be keeping me slightly hollow four years from now.

travis and i have only three weeks left of overlapping lives. three weeks left until a real break up. a forever break up. that kind of finality is creepy, but i'm trying to not let it get to me, or i'll ruin these precious three weeks. every night, falling asleep in his arms i kind of wish that the morning will never come, because each new day is just a new deduction from the short short time. love him i don't want to, but love him i do. meh. nothing much i can do about that. all i can do is figure out ways to keep from disintergrating. any ideas?

the portland airport never fails to break my heart. i have more ill feelings towards that place than anywhere else on earth. poor pdx, i know it's not your fault. but ick.

i am not as unhappy as i may sound. quite the opposite actually. todo esta bien, estoy bien. ya ya ya.

my transvestite boss informed me that she wished she had a body like mine, just hours after my tae kwon do instructor slapped my ass. the world never makes any sense, never ceases to amuse.

p.s.
this was the hardest email i've ever sent:
hey stranger,
today a coworker lent me his "floater" cd. i
thought of you. lots of love, rachel elizabeth

this is from a dream (of sorts)

2005-11-13T01:49:04Z

i'd let you
under my skin
if i hadn't ripped it all off
trying to get you out the last time
the last time
i swore it was the last time
i swear that it's the last time
every first time
but then
i break promises to everybody
break promises to me

maybe i'll grow some new skin
just to let you under
just to let you in

today, besides writing stupid things about stupid dreams i spent too much money on too many books, broke a symbolically important piece of jewelry, and absolutely nothing else. i am no good.

bad_luck_charm @ 2005-10-31T18:35:00

2005-11-01T02:37:18Z

i just broke up with travis because we never fight, because he didn't follow me into the rain.

bad_luck_charm @ 2005-10-27T12:40:00

2005-10-27T19:55:47Z

walked into an empty house yesterday, collapsed in the living room, cried myself dry. just because it's fall. because i've been shedding some leaves along with the trees. so every now and then, i feel a little bare, a little exposed. regardless, leaves demand so much energy to keep green. any biologist will tell you that. or any human.

ran 8 miles to feel better. returned happy as a clam. never fails.

irritated with the boy, so i irritated him back by going over to would-have-been boy's house. got home, still wouldn't let him come over. but talked on the phone untill his tenderness put me to sleep. he calms something in me. the other excites something. i could wish for someone who does both, but that gets me back to thinking about some things i've resigned myself not to think about anymore. fallen leaves.

i've been contemplating giving up. but it's hard. there are, after all, only 50 ways to leave your lover. and i think i've tried most. the problem is, now matter how put off i get, his touch is like a tranquilizer. only when i am away from him do i think i could stay away from him. near him, i remember something. or maybe forget something. near him, i lose the fight in me. not sure if it's a good thing, or a bad one, but it keeps me his.

ahora, i've got a date with cold implements of vaginal destruction. my giney fears the gyny.

lots of quotes, and a few of my own thoughts too (eric, this is probably interesting to you alone)

2005-10-20T22:41:31Z

"if he remembers, he hides it whenever we meet. in a way now, i don't really care, cause i'm gone from there..."

i am now a much happier girl than i've been the last three years. but the thing is, when i have those inevitable sad moments, i don't crave the people that make me so happy, but rather those that i used to share my sadness with. sometimes, a girl just needs to be dark, to wallow. there were moments with collin when we were just miserable discontent people together. "unique moments when two people share the profound sorrow of existence." so i called him last night, feeling depressed without any reason, because he used to understand that about me. but alas, "we of that time are no longer the same" he's changed. seems wiser, more in touch, more in control when it comes to things involving emotions and passions. which is probably good for him. just sad for us. because without all the irrationalities, without all the lost control, we'd never have been friends, lovers, whatever the hell it was that we were in the first place.

he picked up on me hitting on him. and i'm sure i was. but in the most innocent way possible. not after a "piece of ass", just after a piece of normalcy. and for better or worse, normal for us was always a little fucked up like that.

old habits die hard. old emotions die much much harder. but only when left on life support. those of us with enough violence in us can kill anything when it excites enough passion within us.

i may never be truly over it. i think most of those that ever claim to be are lying to themselves. it's not about being over it. its about learning and growing and loving better the next time. it's about not being under it. i'm not over it. but i'm not under it, anymore, either.

it's a hard thing to post. it's a hard thing to even write for myself. i get a lot of shit for caring so deeply for someone who doesn't. but it feels good to write, to get it out. i was never any good at pretending anyway.

went to bed thinking these things. woke up thinking others. 4:30 am. envying my bedmate for being so soundly asleep. i tried matching his breathing. didn't work. knew i had to match his thinking. so as i inhaled when he inhaled, exhaled when he exhaled, all i would allow myself to think was "don't think don't think don't think" didn't work either. squirmed a little. he woke up. i fell instantly asleep. though not for long. much to do. feeling weird because the sun wasn't up yet, which with my particular variety of SAD-ness leaves me uneasy (i am raising my children in the dark so they never become dependent on UV to feel good) got over the weirdness eventually. like i said, there's much to do, and i'm surprisingly focused.

bad_luck_charm @ 2005-10-19T15:18:00

2005-10-19T22:51:23Z

two nights ago, kathryn and i decided that we are in fact insane, and furthermore, that we were going to stop feigning otherwise. long story short, i've been a complete moron since, and am having a great time with it, in spite of all the complications i'm actively recruiting into my life. right after kathryn and i's pact, travis and i go on a moonlit run through the forest. it's all very romantic, but at the point when i should initiate getting down and dirty in nature, i instead decide to tell him all about the cute boy that's sort of pursuing me, and how i am doing nothing to stop it, etc. etc....we have a talk, which goes nowhere, leaving us to resolve the issue wwf style. we wrestled for a half hour, him trying to beat some sense into me, me trying to beat some out of him. my room's left in shackles, my body in bruises. i fall asleep in his arms, panting, sweating, satisfied...wondering ever since why making war with him feels so much like making love. excited by all this, i've been causing little conflicts ever since, making sure that there are as many bumps as will fit on this road we're travelling down together. because if i don't know where its going, i at least need to know it'll be a fun ride. and i'm insane.

bad_luck_charm @ 2005-10-02T12:47:00

2005-10-02T20:11:42Z

the party was much fun. i was there for the beginning. and the end. missed about an hour and a half of the middle, only because a few of us decided it would be pretty funny to leave my own party. that almost ended in disaster: i only narrowly escaped what would have been a horrendously bad kiss. but the escape put me in the back of a mini van, a captive prisoner on my way to palo alto. luckily, matt and i are ninjas, and got out of that fix, back to the keg, and my beer sodden dance floor. i was feeling very very happy because i really enjoy every single person that was there. i never expected to have a fiesta completely sans idiots, but i guess it is possible. (the success of this party has left mike and i planning a roller disco. get your skates now.) morning after, mike matt and i peel ourselves off my wonderful carpet, cleaned up (which was so easy since it was an empty house), splurged on post-party breakfast and then went on to face the day. got all my shit moved in, so i am finally feeling somewhat settled. today i think i'll pick berries and play in the rain.

then maybe get cleaned up, before you know who rolls into town. although, i've been thinking about it, thinking a lot about it, and i am not sure i'm really very into it. him. us. he does have a way of making me change my mind, so don't hold me to it. but if i had to answer right now whether the boy has any pull on my heart strings, i wouldn't hesitate to say no. trust me, i am just as surprised as you are.

bad_luck_charm @ 2005-09-30T11:54:00

2005-09-30T19:05:22Z

"he said 'it's all in your head', i said 'so's everything' but he didn't get it...."

he never does.

i have been doing bad things lately. but i think i can stop now. i left many things burried in the sand at the park late last night. have very little intention of ever going back for them.

only a couple days left before the sexiest man ever to grace this campus returns. that's sure to get my panties/heart in a twist. because....here's my condensed romantic history for the last four years:

collin got me over zach.
travis got me over collin.
matt got me over life.
but not over travis.

we say a lot of things to each other. it will be interesting to find out which we actually mean. i am terrified, mellow, intrigued and disinterested all at the same time. i know what i should do. but i also know i won't. oh mercy.

bad_luck_charm @ 2005-09-28T18:58:00

2005-09-29T02:18:45Z

i had written something so pretty during this pretty day. but i have been on an alcohol sabatical of sorts, so two pints later i am a little out of my head, and convinced that i am a fucking idiot, so i ripped up that piece of paper to spare the world. funny, because now i am subjecting it to this, by far inferior to the shreds of paper in the trash can. oh well...such is the way of the world. or my world at least. blah blah blah. nothing left to do but walk myself to my pseudo-home, where i promised to sip wine with one of my favorite people. which is a good thing for me to do. because it will make me smile, and i need to smile, as the alcohol depressed more than my metabolism. me duele mi corazon. if i were to offer any shred of truth to things it would be this: i miss my best friend. a fucking lot. and it kills, fucking kills that he doesn't miss me back, doesn't care. but then, if he doesn't care, how can i call him my best friend anyway? aye. there are some people that just shouldn't be in my life. because all they do is play games, and make me feel bad about myself. and i wish i could be like them, and just say "fuck you" and walk away as if they were never a significant presence in my existence. but when i love them so so much...what then? i can't help but feel that it is better to offer myself up to his slaughter, lay myself down time and time again for him to walk over than it is to deny that i feel deeply for him. but that's coming from me, and it's always me that gets hurt.

my closing statement

2005-09-26T15:43:39Z

my last day of thoughts all my own. before the biology, the geography. before the to do lists, the assignments. last moments to think without agenda. yet, i am not quite taking advantage of it. sitting on the porch, watching the slaughter of the sun, i am finding it hard to commit much thought to anything. though one thought nags, gnawing, perplexing. and it is not so much that i don't want to think about it as it is that i am finding myself incapable. i've lost my grasp, forgotten the history. and all the racing of my mind in all its different directions cannot pull me out of this nowhere. every smile, every fight, every kiss, every touch, every fuck, every word, and every thing unspoken...all lost to me now. i carry nothing of him, nothing for him, but a love without reason or substance.

bad_luck_charm @ 2005-09-24T16:10:00

2005-09-24T23:17:37Z

clean at last, clean at last!

the only thing missing at the mansion is hot water. so you can imagine how disappointing it was when kathryn and i's treck to the rec center ended in tragedy: closed for the weekend. we made do, snuck into the dorms where the only thing hotter than the water is the fresh meat. glorious times, though we had to spend a solid ten minutes dancing naked in the changing area to dry off, as those bitch freshmen wouldn't let us borrow their towels. that's okay, i peeed in their shower.

anyway, i am smelling good, and feeling even better.

but the funny thing is, явсеещелюблюего.

and even if i didn't, янеподвижнохотелбысделатьего

just thought you might get it

2005-09-21T17:36:11Z

last night my buddie herb asked me if i had a lot to do to get ready. my response: "i throw some shit in a box, put it on a plane, and call it my life". granted, i was stoned to bujeezus and thus being pretty short with people. but it was actually a pretty accurate thing to say, and has left me a little depressed-like.

matt's making me all depressed-like too. last night he asked me not to leave. i told him months ago not to fall for me or get attached, but the silly boy just didn't listen. now i am feeling guilty, for many things...most notably for being so eager to be single. it's nothing to do with him, everything to do with it being far too long since i've been unattached. it's weird, i don't even want to flirt, or "play the field" or any of that bullshit. boys can just be sooooo tiresome. of course, as writing this, i am very aware of a few existing "situations" that might make a big fat liar out of me. those couple of sparks waiting to light my pants on fire. even literally.

ever find that when you wait around for people to surprise you, they never do? i always just end up surprising myself, just to compensate for the disappointment i suppose. sometimes the surprise is nothing more than realizing i don't care as much as i thought. but sometimes i am surprised to find that i care more. there is this certain quality about a few people i know that makes me soo soo sad for them. their modes of self preservation are so self defeating.

words are funny things sometimes. conversations, sometimes ridiculous. had one of those last night. later, stoned, i was thinking of how the words had wrapped themselves around the nothingness. like a picture frame enclosing just cardboard and glass. or worse, enclosing the cheesy black and white landscape or portrait of the strange person that the frame came with. when your walls are bare, i guess anything will do. seems strange though.

strange like this post. strange like these seemingly dead end thoughts.

strange like after it all, still waiting around for surprises.

if i love you, i hope you know it. if i love you, i hope i know it.

bad_luck_charm @ 2005-07-28T00:09:00

2005-07-28T06:52:13Z

oh dear, another one of these. these posts just to post. just to keep fingers moving. writing, just to write, although as shall soon become apparent, there is nothing really to write.

today was delightful. finally not a hundred plus degrees in this place. such places should never be so hot, it makes no sense. tis a place where you are meant to be outdoors, not jumping from air conditioner to air conditioner. but whoever is in charge seems to be catching on. it's cooling down. and i'm heating up. rrrrrrrrr.

spent the day be selfish. sleeping late, naked in front of the wide open windows, sweet summer air rolling all over my sweaty summer skin. attempted to take advantage of the coolness and go running. deterred by certain physical ailments. so went on a walk instead. still a struggle. but i was a happy limping girl. i've all the reasons in the world to be. i've got this sweet deceptive smile, so nobody thinks for a second that i am in pain. they just think i can't walk, probably attributing such a handicap to brain damage, much more fitting with my stupid grin.

long walk followed by long dinner, long conversation, long smiles, long love. then off to one of my favorite places, where i exchanged some christmas gifts i never got around to giving collin for some no reason gifts for myself. i left with such a pleasurable bounty that i got to thinking why anybody ever does anything for anybody else. if everybody just did sweet little things for themselves all the time, there would be no need for kind gestures by others. tomorrow, i buy myself flowers. yeah. i don't really believe most of this, but it is a fun idea to toss around...a completley selfish world.

earlier today i was wearing pants sans one of their buttons. the button was ripped off a few months ago, during one of those moments...then, to go out, new pants were put on. the same pants i wore the last time i saw him, two weeks ago. what is she talking about, why speak of fucking pants? because because friends...i want to say, he comes to me in weird ways. my fucking pants make me think of him. and when i'm not wearing pants, needless to say (blush), i think of him too. but it's nothing very significant. maybe the rememberence of the brake lights on his car as he parked at my house or the way he moves his head when he sings. when you think nothing significant, you can convince yourself that nothing significant exists. but then your pants make you think of him, and you realize these memories are about as insignificant as air, that being deprived of either the former or the latter would probably have the same suffocating effect.

and yet, in between memories of brakes and songs, i sit with matt, hold his hands, kiss his lips. i sip all the wine he pours, and sometimes hit the glass with my teeth when i smile as he tells me how much he adores me. i tell him whatever he asks, whatever i think. i share with him all that i am, all that i do, all that i have. i give him my soul, knowing he'll never have my heart. knowing my heart is faraway. knowing it disapproves of my antics. but as i said, i share with him everything, so he knows all this. and somehow his knowing alleiviates any guilt.

bad_luck_charm @ 2005-07-14T13:46:00

2005-07-14T19:56:54Z

i get home from the airport, from saying goodbye to travis a wreck. i lay in bed, first forcing myself to breathe, then forcing myself to sleep. sleep so that i do not start to cry, scared that it would be long before i can stop again. but when i wake up, my cheeks are sodden, and although i have no recollection of where my mind was as i slept, i know that it was with him. escape plan failed.

so then i lay there, staring out at the sky, making note of the passing planes, knowing he might be on one. and it feels more like the planes are passing through me than passing over me, so i return to sleep, unconsciously crying being my best option available.