Passive Panda

018| Woman trouble.

2006-06-18T21:23:00.000-04:00

"Promises, promises...I'm feeling burned. You taught me a lesson I didn't want to learn. Why did I come here? Please, tell me again. Why did you ask me? Don't say you forget! I long for, I long for...I long for my home. I long for a land where no man was ever known. With no neurosis. No psychosis. No psychoanalysis and no sadness. I'll pick up the pieces, I'll carry on somehow. Tape the broken parts together and limp this love around. Limp this love around..."- PJ Harvey

017| Leave me alone...I'm lonely.

2006-06-18T03:30:00.000-04:00

"Tonight, leave me alone. I'm lonely, alone I'm lonely...I'm tired. Leave me alone I'm lonely. Alone, I'm lonely tonight."-Pink

I am one...sick bitch. The thoughts that are bouncing around in my brain right now are absolutely ridiculous. I actually caught an attitude because my ex signed up for myspace again (after he talked about how he didn't want his page anymore and what not) and the nigga didn't even add me...but he added a girl I am blatantly insecure about.

Mmm...that's delicious. So you know before I went to the bathroom to vomit I said to myself, "He's not your boyfriend anymore. Shut your face Gee, suck it up, and don't you cry or I will beat you up worse than Ed Norton did himself in 'Fight Club'!!!" A nice proud "Single" sporting on his page as mine painfully reads "Divorced". Okay, so I wanna punch this girl in her face for everytime she referred to him as "Baby" *cringe* and yeah I wanna beat her up for being everything I'm not but what the hell can I do? That will turn me into a Springer guest. So of course I do the next best thing. Put on "Go With The Flow", scream it at the walls, and throw his picture in it's frame for the 15th thousandth time. I find reasons to get angry with him because I miss him that much. I scream what I don't mean because I love him that much. I wanna punch him up only because I can't have em anymore. What the FUCK is wrong with me?

---------------------------
Walking down the halls, with my claws tearing down that pretty wall paper
that we picked out together, that september do you remember?
It looks like a funeral parlor in here; the greys have really tied the room
The dead lillies in their plastic vase, never truly lived up to their potential.
However, the gagged and bound creature squirming in that lawn chair
With the mousey brown hair, bares striking resemblence to the girl you left behind.
What was her name? Something Biblical...
Anyways, my teeth have never been so sharp and I'm ready to bite down now.
I'll leave you some imprints that you'll be dead before you could forget.
Someone strike up the chorus, this boys got a song to sing. Choking on vows
and circulations cut from fake cubic rings. It stings...
I'll leap into this coffin we designed if you just give me one more sign.
Perhaps something a little obvious and painfully to the point.
Like a deep incision around the neck joint.
Oooh, you're murderous but I am malicious...what a combination. What a combination...
-----------------------------

What to do with my lack of self confidence. Perhaps I will stick it in a jar and bury it like a divine capsule. I'll dig it up when I turn 50...that should be a good time to feel like this again. To hate my skin again. To hate my weight, my hair, my laugh, my face, my tears again.

I wish I had a drop dead fred. I could use him at the moment.

I wish I wasn't sleeping in his England Jersey tonight...but I just can't help but love him. Even if he doesn't love me back. Even if he doesn't want me back. Even if he is happier without me. Even if I can still smell him on the shirt and it makes me want to cry till I throw up.

fuckery.

016| Forgive me if I'm out of line, I can't control myself sometimes.

2006-06-09T19:14:00.000-04:00

The thing that truly irks me most, is that I left the door open and now I'm swarming with flies. But amongst the flies, you had to go and be a gnat, didn't ya?

I have this friend who for the sole reason that I don't want to end up sued to high hell, we will refer to as the Cowardly Lion. He's becoming more and more successful and I guess in it's own way that is wonderful, but alas I fear that his head it taking some major abuse because of it. I mean, if that thing gets any bigger, it's going to require the government to declare it a state of emergency. I wish there was some sort of juice press like in Willy Wonka where instead of his whole body, we can insert his head.

The things that fly out of this kids mouth on the daily basis has me scratching my head even wondering why the hell I am still friends with him. He can be as sweet as pie one moment and then the next he can make you want to scratch each of his eyes out of his boat. I know my temper can be disgusting, but I don't ever resort to talking to people the way he does.

"You know me Gab, I may say things that say otherwise, but I love you. You know you're my baby."

Correction, Mother Fucker. You aren't Ike and I'm not Tina, hell we aren't even a COUPLE. So what chu talkin? You "love" me? Bitch, I don't give no fuck.

< end of profanity. Sorry mems. >

I hate sorry ass people that think that better themselves means giving them the right to walk on people. Cause erm...that's not making yourself a healthier person, that is making yourself an unbearable monster. I'm glad you don't mind being alone, cause you will always stay that way. Unless some ditzy, plastic girl can come along and take your stupidty that you mask in false self confidence and over bearing pride. I liked you better when you were heavier...atleast then you were more pleasant.

----------------

If I ever get like this when I reach my set goals...you all have permission to slap me.

015| When everything is wrong, we move along...

2006-06-02T21:18:00.000-04:00

"When all you got to keep is strong:Move along, move along like I know you do. And even when your hope is gone: Move along, move along just to make it through. Move along..."-AAR I am feeling indifferent; I'm obviously shaken from the whole situation with my ex-boyfriend and I still have very many feelings attached, yet I feel the need to scream and let everything out. To let go...to let heal. I stated my case with the grace and persuasion of the late Johnny Cochran, but I think my opening arguments fell on deaf ears. But, that's all right. I hurt him and he deserves to be angry. I can accept that. He isn't sure whether he was inlove with me at all now...or if what we had could be classified as "love". And that's cool. I took the words, I swallowed hard, and now here I am.

I still have to get myself together, I still have to get back to London, and as much as it would pain me to do all these things without him if I have to I am prepared to. I'll wish him all the best and leave him to it. I'll always have a part of me that is connected to him and I will always leave my door cracked open, incase he wants to come back in.

So, I interviewed with Walmart the other day; walked in the sweltering heat until I saw the huge blue letters that I at first thought was a mirage. Why is it that it doesn't matter the position, you always get nervous? I mean, an overnight Stocking Position doesn't necessarily strike you as a job opening that you need to bite your nails all night over. But, I did good I think. I enjoyed answering the questions and it was kinda fun. You know, the same kind of time killing fun one has with pulling Elmer's glue from their hands after it's dried.

The working out is going well; my mom says I am dropping weight quicker than a hostage in a sweat shop, so I must be doing something right. However, Mary Winsor whoops my ass something horrible. I got buns of STEEEEEEEEEEL now though and some legs that can kick you clear across states. Maybe not that awesome yet but I am getting there. I need to work on these arms though, I need some more muscle tone. I should start lifting again I reckon. I'll talk to Trainer Tom Tom about it.

I'm coming into my own now and it's lovely; my personality is evolving again and though it is a very emotional time it is a positive as well as a negative. I just hope some people stick by me to see where it's going. I'd hate to see people get off at this station.

I hate when people who aren't from England use words like: Wanker, Oi, Guvna, Blud, Geezah, ect.

SHUT THE FUCK UP, ITS NOT COOL.

K thanks, nite nite.

014| Chris Martin was put here to read us our rights...

2006-05-30T02:59:00.000-04:00

Never once have I been unable to take a Coldplay song and apply it to my life. As I unravel myself from my fetile position long enough to type this, I have one of Chris Martin's brilliant songs from the sophmore release "Rush of Blood to the Head" on repeat. It sums up the way I am feeling at the moment and just...smacked me in the mouth and took all my thoughts and applied it to an acoustic track. The song is "Warning Sign".

"A warning sign
I missed the good part then I realised
I started looking and the bubble burst
I started looking for excuses

Come on in
I've got to tell you what a state I'm in
I've got to tell you in my loudest tones
That I started looking for a warning sign

When the truth is
I miss you
Yeah the truth is
That I miss you so.

A warning sign
You came back to haunt me and I realised
That you were an island and I passed you by
When you were an island to discover

Come on in
I've got to tell you what a state I'm in
I've got to tell you in my loudest tones
That I started looking for a warning sign

When the truth is
I miss you
Yeah the truth is
That I miss you so

And I'm tired
I should not have let you go..."

...*drops mic and stares at everyone*

013| Life after Death

2006-05-27T16:48:00.000-04:00

I currently don't see the point of going out. I think I have depleted my local Wawa of Kleenex and Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia Ice Cream. My eyes have been swollen upon waking up for the past 4 days and for the past 4 nights I sing a vino induced version of a pathetic love song. I'm talking everything from Carly Simon "Nobody Does It Better" to the classic Cyndi Lauper track, "Time after Time". I've torn up photos and then printed them out again on the printer a few hours later. The lastest films I've seen are: Bridget Jones Diary: The Edge of Reason, Garden State, Titanic, Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, and Hedwig and the Angry Inch and have cried atleast 4 times during the process of EACH film. My sense of fashion has tumbled into a style that could be compared to Edward Scissorhands and I don't think I smell too nice.

If you are good at reading between the lines, I am suffering from an accute case of Break Up with a side of Regret.

So what does one do when going through the "motions"? The things I have read with my own two eyes, lead me to beleive that reading anything he has to say probably is not in the best. Calls are out of the question when all I would do is fumble on my words and sob incoherently until he either hung up or went deaf. I have my moments of extreme anguish and then the next I am pissed off and bitter.

So here we are...and nobody knows what anyones doing. I can't speak for him, because well I don't know what he's doing with himself. How he's feeling...what he's thinking. I only know that I feel like the castle walls have been knocked down and here I lie amongst the rubble, playing dead. Pretending to be all right when my head is done in. I've said my piece, I've declared I was in love...and he's pledge his silence. My world has been rocked off it's axis and my days, it always takes a loss to realize that you had what you needed all along and let it go.

I'm guilty of being a twat, and well...there's nothing I can do to change what I have done. I guess it's just picking myself up by the boot straps, dusting off my dirty face and hands, and walking off the stagger until I'm straight again. You can't make someone love you...

And you can't make someone stay...no matter how much you'd like to or try to throw honey in the pot to sweeten the deal. A lover scorned is just that, a mistake isn't ever small...and error isn't ever erasable. There will always be a tiny trace of what shouldn't have happened.

...I fucking hate the clock on the wall; every tick taunts me with possibility.

012a.| Working It oot. (shout out to the Canadians)

2006-05-21T21:56:00.000-04:00

Upon my arrival back home, I slipped into depression like a night gown. Well...I've finally woken up and noticed while I was asleep...I let myself go a little. Not a lot...but lets just say I can afford to lose some weight.

Going head first into working out and altering my eating style, I am noticing small results but steady results. The funny thing to me is(and feel free to comment on it, all my readers who also work out), I cannot keep my pace without music. If I have no music I get so bored and unmotivated that I will want to sit. Which leads me to my question: What the hell do you work out too?

Everyone has either embarassing songs or stereotypical songs that they work out too. I figured it would be fun to hear some of yours (that is if you aren't too lazy to comment). Here are some of mine...as follows:

1)Rob Zombie - Dragula (Hot Rod Herman Remix)
2)Slipknot - Wait and Bleed
3)Prodigy - Breathe(Is this song not freaking perfect to get your ass movin? Something about the way he kicks the whole, "BREAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATHE WITH MEH!" that just screams "Move your fat ass or I will keeeeel you.")
4)My Chemical Romance - Helena
5)M.I.A - URAQT
6)Bloc Party - Helicopter
7)The Killers - Somebody Told Me (Mylo Remix)
8)Kaiser Cheifs - Everyday I Love You Less And Less
9) The Bravery - Swollen Summer
10)Yeah Yeah Yeah's - Y Control
11)Coheed & Cambria - Devil In Jersey City
12)Kill Hannah - Sick Boy
13)The Rasmus - In My Life
14)CKY - Tripled Manic State
15)Ol Dirty Bastard - I Can't Wait(Big Baby Jeeeezus I can't wait nigga FUCK THAT I can't WAYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETTTTTTTTTTTT!)
16)The Distillers - Beat Your Heart Out
17) Busta Rhymes - Gimmie Some Mo
18)Brand Nubian - Punks Jump Up To Get Beat Down
19)Foo Fighters - Everlong
20)Fu Manchu - California Crossing
21)In Flames - The Quiet Place
22) The Mars Volta - Son et Lumiere

And to make myself laugh...Mark Mothersbaugh - Ping Island/ Lightening Strike Rescue Op from the brilliant film "The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou". You know the part where he has on the wet suit and is doing the little dance to that weird techno? That track. Hehe.

I got a lot more but those tend to be some of my faves. Yeah...pointless was this post. *smirk*

011| Some nights are harder than others...

2006-05-08T22:03:00.000-04:00

"While you are away, my heart comes undone
Slowly unravels in a ball of yarn.
The devil collects it with a grin.
Our love, our love...in a ball of yarn

He'll never return it

And when you come back we'll have to make new love..."
- Bjork "Unravel"

Do me a favor viewers, amuse your humble narrorator. Go hug your boyfriend/girlfriend/wife/husband, even if you have just had a fight because you never know how many hugs you have left.

I haven't smelled my boyfriends skin in a months time...with more months to follow and it's already the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Love is so beautiful it sucks.

Tonight, I just miss him more than I have before. Björk is genius and if you say otherwise...

I keel you.

010| Burn it up just like a match...

2006-05-06T10:06:00.000-04:00

The older I become the more I resent my parents. The story I used to think was a miracle that I was hearing as a child has turned into an adult nightmare and an extreme emptiness.

My mother decided back in December of 1982 that she would fool my drunken father into thinking that she was on her birth control. He had made it clear before that they couldn't afford another child and that having another would certainly put them in the hole, in other words: he didn't want another baby. So on New Years Eve, my mother purposely bedded him, trying to create...well...me. I was born under false pretences, stress, and lies. Why should my life not be made of these things?

Ladies and Gentleman...I give you:

Mommy Says, Daddy Yells.
A collections of quotes from my sperm donor and birth vessle

Daddy Yells: You were born at a really bad time; you really shouldn't of been born. (My age: 10)
Mommy Says: I tricked your father into getting me pregnant with you. I really wanted a third baby. (My Age: 8)
Daddy Yells: Your mother left US. She left YOU. Never forget that. (My Age: 12)
Mommy Says: Don't cry, it will be okay. I'm leaving because this is something I have to do for Mommy. Don't you want Mommy to be happy? I can't take you with me. (My Age: 11...a couple months before my 12th birthday)
Daddy Yells: Your mother was running around with that white man before we even got divorced. She kept his picture on the nightstand... (My Age: 15)
Mommy Says: Mommy could of left a lot sooner, but she stayed to have you and your brother. (My Age: 18)
Daddy Yells: Since you wanna talk and act like a Kid on the bus, you can walk to school wearing a sign that says, "I AM STUPID". DO you want to end up like a bitch? Like the trash around here? (My Age: 12)
Mommy Says: I wasn't hiding him from you, I just didn't think it was a big deal he was living with me. (My Age: 12 days before my 13th birthday, when I moved into my moms apt.)
Daddy Yells: You remind me of Barbara, the woman I was with before your mother. You aren't the selfish kind of Virgo your mother is. (My Age: 19)
Mommy Says: (After my Mom's 2nd Husbands brother inlaw came into my room and said, "Looks like I'm your real Uncle John now, your Mom just got married!")Mommy doesn't have to tell you everything. (My Age: 13)
Daddy Yells: You know, Virgos are all the same and I'm sick of it. I'm not putting up with their shit anymore. I'm done. (My Age: 22, after I told my dad I was uncomfortable with my weight. This was indirectly said to my sister, not me).

I really can't be bothered to list more, solely because I feel myself getting more and more upset and resenting them more and more. I was a very lonely, misunderstood, and abandoned child. I was born as I said before...a burden. They made sure my life felt as such. My father never attended plays, never came to my birthday parties, never so much as acknowledged any of the positives that I had. Only tried to beat out what he thought were negatives, besides the beatings he had good old trusty verbal abuse.

My mom...I won't even go there. My baggae with her will have to come in a next post cause it's gonna take awhile.

Just like healing...

009| Take our hands out of control...

2006-05-01T11:23:00.000-04:00

"Endurance is not just the ability to bear a hard thing, but to turn it into glory." - William Barclay

So things have been hard since I've been back in the US; I've picked up a bit of stress weight and I am trying to put myself back into motion again. Today was the first day where improvement really felt close to my fingertips.

As I was walking today in the stale and extremely polluted air that Delcoians call "Fresh"...I had so many thoughts roaring through my mind. My music career, my family life, and me in general. What was I going to do with the bit of time I am handed to be on this Earth? I'm almost eager now to get past this rut. I'm almost running towards something new and better for me. An even stronger pheonix to rise from the ashes with this rebirth. I keep coming stronger and maybe this attempt will be the one to break me the fuck OUT.

I had a very trying visit with my father this past weekend. All those in attendance could feel the emotions radiating from my skin as I swallowed every bit of the food I didn't want to eat. As he sent snide remarks to my side of the table and compared me to the woman from his failed marriage (this makes attempt #2 for the old man), I began to ask myself, "Why do I do this to myself? I come and visit him for what? A dose of what life was like before Mom ran for her life?" I decided it would be the last visit for awhile.

Now before you beat me in the head with, "Ohhhh, we only have one father and when he's gone you'll yada yada yada..."

I have never had a relationship with my father...so what is there to regret? Not getting my pride torn to shreads whenever he feels my problems are too trivial and unimportant to talk to me about? Or how about the way he picks at me cause he has nothing better to say?

I've made the decision:

London is the best place for me to be right now...for as long as possible.

008| I know you are, but what am I?

2006-04-19T19:52:00.000-04:00

Hello. Lord, the names I've been called. It's like a espionage film; code names giving for different missions. The most common title is "Gee". However, I have adopted the name "Hopper", no...wait. It was given to me. I've been bouncing since before I could stand on my onesies; how fitting that in my adulthood I live up to that name. I'm in between ~~places~~ continents at the moment. Originally from the city of Brotherly Crud...er...Love (Philadelphia for those moving at a slower pace than most), living in Philly when I'm broke and London when I can afford it. Your best bet is to have both numbers since I move homes like the wind. Well, better yet, how bout have my cellphone number. It works in all regions.

I don't have many friends, I just stomach a lot of people. Those who mean something, know and feel it. Those who mean nothing find themselves questioning it. Not being negative in my people approach, just honest with myself. I've got a me that I am in private and a me that I give to the world...very separate and very different. I'm try to approach situations like a chameleon; glumly sinking into the environment and sinking under the radars undetected, yet the light always tends to catch something on me that reflects my distant gaze.

I'm not easy to love but very easy to be fond of. I'm very stubborn, overly opinionated, and feel that everyone to some degree is an idiot. I don't smoke, I seldom drink, and I find that the best moments of my life are spent in complete solitude. I don't eat cow and I loathe pig. I eat fish because they don't have feelings. I once ate live octopus in a restaurant where I couldn't really communicate with the waiter. I chewed it so fast I don't think I had a chance to taste it; I was afraid the suction of it's live tentacles squirming would somehow become attached to my throat and I would die. This would be a good time to express that I am a bit of a dare devil. I don't know where I'm going when one of my antics kill me...but I hope it's got a lot of pillows and a journal for me to waste time with.

It says I am a Christian, but I don't really know if I am. I pray sometimes and then later wonder to what or to whom I am speaking with. I come from a family of people secure in their religion, so it's a bit difficult being the black sheep. Am I the only one with their eyes open, studying the faces of everyone around them; eyes closed and so grateful for the dead animal and roughage they are about to consume?

I thought my Momma cooked it...so how come we don't thank her?

I am very rarely seen without over sized headphones on my ears. The bigger they are, the less of you I hear. Sometimes I focus long and hard enough where everyone is going 20 times faster than they ought to and I remain going my pace which assumes the role of being slow motion. I take note of too many things that I shouldn't and stare when I should turn away.

I'm bitter most days; I sit sipping tea and picturing the demise of the little people in my head. Dangling from cliffs with bloody claws, seeking my help. I smile as I step down carefully and forcefully on their desperate digits and wave as they sail down to the rocky cliffs below. These are usually the people I envy or the people who have just ultimately rubbed me the wrong way.

I'm a lazy child. I think it pleased my parents to hear that my day dreaming out of the barred windows of Mayfair Elementary school was due to me being under stimulated and bored; really I was just plum lazy. I could of gotten A's with ease...if I gave a rats ass. My reality lied in my mind and I am finding that it is still there, even as I exist at 22 years of age. I always feel the need to be taken care of. I want so much yet do so little to gain these things. Why is that? Am I a glutton for self punishment?

I have a lot of anger in me. Yes, that's true.

I feel that my mother abandoned me when I was 8 and left me in the hands of my father whom I feel at the time was incapable and unable to be a father. I feel that his drinking problems and lack of compassion at the time really put a bit of a damper on the whole "family" thing. I feel that she left it in the hands of my sister to assume the labors of being a mother while she enjoyed the perks. You know, picking out the clothes and coming to the school plays. The kisses and the hugs. The occasional aid in motivation.

I feel that she grew tired to early in the game to truly be a major anchor in the turn of events that would take place when she decided it was time to "Think about Mommy" back in 1996. She didn't hear me play with my Baby Dolls and imitate her.

"You know, you're always mad when you don't get what you want when you want! What about Mommy?! What about what Mommy wants?"

I feel that my father was a very sad and emotionally unstable father who wasn't quite ready to be a Dad. Not allowing us to be too affectionate with our Mother, striking fear in our hearts so that every time he stepped into the house it was like the Grinch popping his toe into Whoville. We would retreat to our rooms so that the room meant for living was empty with tumble weeds blowing across the brown carpet. Any and all instruments would be packed away and there was no such thing as fun.

His idea of discipline was more to the likings of a boot camp than of a family home. His "spankings" leaned more towards the side of abuse and I remember the welts and cuts on my legs. I wondered if he ever noticed? The shame and the embarrassment. I somehow wished that like a reality series he could see a tape rolled back of the kids laughing at the fat kid in gym class who didn't want to wear shorts so nobody would see. I would just fail and get more spankings for what my father called "Laziness and misbehavior".

I have issues. I have baggage. I have no idea what I'm doing here or how I am doing it.

Hello, my name is H. G. Hardy...and I'm a hermit.

007| Until I'm back in your arms again...

2006-04-16T18:14:00.000-04:00

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep. "
-Robert Frost.

I've been unbale to sleep, there's a body missing in this event. I've got miles to go before I can rest safely in his arms again...

006| Flight 37 to Atlanta, Gerorgia departs at 10:10am.

2006-04-14T10:38:00.000-04:00

I think I'll go home and mull this over
Before I cram it down my throat
At long last it's crashed, the colossal mass
Has broken up into bits in my moat.

Lift the mattress off the floor
Walk the cramps off
Go meander in the cold
Hail to your dark skin
Hiding the fact you're dead again
Underneath the power lines seeking shade
Far above our heads are the icy heights that contain all reason

It's a luscious mix of words and tricks
That let us bet when you know we should fold
On rocks I dreamt of where we'd stepped
And the whole mess of roads we're now on.

Hold your glass up, hold it in
Never betray the way you've always known it is.
One day I'll be wondering how
I got so old just wondering how
I never got cold wearing nothing in the snow.

This is way beyond my remote concern
Of being condescending

All these squawking birds won't quit.
Building nothing, laying bricks.
The Shins - Caring Is Creepy

...and now we turn to another chapter.

OO5| I can't go back in there. It's all hating faces that I have to chop up with a machete!

2006-04-09T19:05:00.000-04:00

Motherfucking cocksucker motherfucking shit fucker what am I doing? What am I doing? I don't know what I'm doing. I'm doing the best that I can. I know that's all I can ask of myself. Is that good enough? Is my work doing any good? Is anybody paying attention? Is it hopeless to try and change things? The African guy is a sign, right? Because if he isn't, than nothing in this world makes any sense to me. I'm fucked! Maybe I should quit. Don't quit! Maybe I should just fucking quit. Don't fucking quit! I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to fucking do anymore! Fucker! Fuck shit!
- I ♥ Huckabees

Not one person in my family...has any idea of how much right now I feel like I don't need them. You've broken my heart. My Super Hero finally let me down.

004| Got to ask yourself the question, "Where are you now?"

2006-04-04T17:38:00.000-04:00

I keep dancing around this post; not wanting it to feel pushed, yet straining to get it out. Sorta like constipation. So many mixed emotions about everything as of lately.

I've been second guessing myself almost constantly; nothing seems to fit. Nothing seems right. No pieces to the puzzles fit and is this normal to try frantically at jamming them together? Dare I call it "instinct"? I breathe fire in the general direction of strangers and mothers cling to their children as I approach. I tick when I blink and explode in my dreams. What's become of the self assurance?

I remember you, little girl. You once ate so greedily from my hands and now that you're full you belch your lack of appreciation into my face. You smell so ghastly and you linger far longer than you should.

Now I am lost.

------------------------------------------

So before that nonsensical babble started right, I so had an approach I wanted to follow. Let's try again, hmm?

------------------------------------------

With all this frustration bubbled over inside of me I am lashing out and anyone I feel threatens my delicacy at the moment. I am the shell protecting Hopper. My words cut like the blade of an assassin, my expressions are evil. I automatically stab, when I only meant to going for a hug.

I'm snapping at Jay a lot which is so un-cool. I'm playing this role of someone who's got it all together and I am fine with the bland and unfortunate turn of events when he knows- I know I am not okay. I'm distraught. I'm so heart broken I am delirious. I am scratching my skin off and screaming at the sight of myself. I was bitten in the lung by my inability to stay afloat here; here is where the dream takes a dark turn.

You can never truly understand the sweetness in life without being slapped, choked, and molested by the bitter. By the unwanted and the uncalled for.

I questioned God. I turned my back on (H)im. I told my sister I felt my bones turning into that of a crooked atheist and she cringed at the thought of her best friend eroding in the darkest corner of hell for her inability to believe. I walk so jaggedly these days; the kiss of the wind is too sharp for my worn and tattered skin. I cling to my jacket hoping that the change of season won't bring in too much light, can't let them see my ashes.

I've lost my belief in turn arounds. I lost my footing and my want to retain solid ground. Did I ever believe in G-O-D, and has he ever truly noticed ME?

I speak dangerously these days, mind the dagger jutting from my teeth.

If I were Eve, with my luck I would of choked on the apple; smart enough to know I was dying and dumb enough to question it.

I'm all over the place today; I'm in the women's room scrambling for the cosmetics that escaped my fallen make-up bag. Though it all I scream from bloody lungs,

"WHERE ARE YOU WHEN I NEED YOU?!?!"
I could use a little help right now...

003| You Eclipsed By Me.

2006-03-28T20:55:00.000-05:00

I've slowly reached a point where I am distancing myself; from who or what remains unclear but I find my solitude to be my most peaceful of times. I wouldn't say I don't like people, I can say that those I have held dear are severe disappointments to me.

I spoke before about having felt "cloned". It's almost a nauseating feeling, seeing this impostor of my thoughts and ideas. My creativity and my passions. I watch her evolve into this monster, this low budget shotty reconstructed ME...and it makes me not only annoyed, but hurt. I long for the feeling that I am making strides in a life that is entirely mine; that I do not have someone chasing after me with their hands out just waiting to wrap their fingers around my glory. I feel suffocated these days...these gray, abominable days.

I remember days when I held my camera to my eye and I saw a world that for a few seconds belonged to me. I could paint what I wanted to see so clearly through the multi colored heaven that was photography. Why is it such a popular feeling now? Since when could any Tom, Dick, and Jane call themselves a photographer? I look at my peers and I detest what I see. This mockery of a collage riddled, failed modern art museum...post reject and contemporary shit pop art that flood my retinas with mind numbing dullness. I look through my art...not to say it's any better. I see my expressions and the seriousness of what I love most and I feel like any pseudo indie kid is going to come along and claim that this was all they ever wanted for themselves.

It's not a hobby. It's not a career you find on a whim. It's art. Never forget that shit, prick.

I am on edge. I feel like my walls are caving in and I am swinging the hammer to the plaster. Chief engineer of destruction; who's to say that the demolition of ones self can't lead to something beautiful? Perhaps this is some divine metamorphosis into this butterfly of self security and belief. Whether you believe in God is irrelevant; it's my own quest to find answers that keep my eyes pried open and swollen tonight. My sister says to pray. The television says to repent. Yet my aching belly and my weary mind say to pull the trigger. Shut myself down. It's time for the big sleep.

Before you call 911, I don't mean in the literal sense. My foes aren't worth the crimson spray of stupidity across this cell. I mean it's time to let go of being nice. Of being reliable. Of being the fucking shoulder. This kleenex has far too much snot to continue on. I'm tearing. I'm beginning to decompose. God, how I long to shake myself of these crocodile tears. All of your problems.

I don't know where I'm going with my life. I don't know if he loves me. I don't know why I don't like anyone. I don't know why my friends can't see it my way. I don't know what I'm doing. News flash, I don't know either.

The biggest mistake I ever made, was sharing my obsessions with leeches. They come in many disguises. They use words like "Love" and "Respect" to gain entry to your nervous system. Once they invade, they disarm. Then one day when you wake up and feel the urge to shit, you realize that the stink you smell is that of constipated nervousness. What if you aren't as clever you reckoned? What if you aren't as brilliant as they all think you are. How can you maintain this brazen glory that they all painted you up in?

Should you care? Should you run for the hills?

There's hate in my heart tonight; I drink it down like wine...sour grapes that leave me drunk and puzzled. There's a fire inside my heart; burning for resolution. Raging for a solution. Should I confront and destroy or shall I twiddle my thumbs and ignore the obvious.

I'm a slave to worry. A victim of jealousy. Everyone I truly admire, I envied at some point. Everyone I ever truly love, I hated at the start.

There are people right now who feel alienated by this post...let me assure you this is not for you, but...instead consider it guidelines.

You have entered the belly of this beast...and it's fight or die.

002| Hopper The Strange and Growing Pains.

2006-03-27T07:52:00.000-05:00

I have had the most nerve demolishing migrane for the past two days (this being day two, before someone panics and yells, "GET THIS GIRL A MEDIC!"). Nurofen PLUS^tm
with Codeine and Ibruprofen, which is usually the sweetest of nectars to my pounding brain busters is coming up short like a flacid midget in a porno. I am not too sure what to do at this point other than wear sunglasses during the day, wear sunglasses at night (*sings* so I cannnnnn so I cannnnn), and also when I am at the monitor of the computer. Suckage? I'd like the think so.

My family has been prone to migranes since the dawn of man, so no doubt that gene was getting passed on to me. I mean I get them to the point where any light makes me want to vomit, sound is magnified to the 89th power, and any small recall of a memory makes it throb with so much angst and hatred. I don't know what my poor little head did to deserve these demons, but it hurts enough to make me wanna slap my parents sometimes. Sheesh and Moses.

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Every couple has their issues; things that one does that annoys the other. I think me and James have gotteh to the point where we know all the little things that pester us about each other. The biggest peeve of mine being his snoring, well...used to be.

This morning I woke up with my head punding full force and I look over at him cuddling up the blanket and well...snoring. Usually I will shake him and jar him from whatever wonderful dream he could be having and tell him to sheddup. But this morning was entirely different.

I just looked at him; peacefully miles and miles away. He always looks about 5 years old when he's sleeping and I never took the time to notice the innocence that engulfs him as he sits there snoring like a giant. So today, I just kissed his cheek and went and got some juice. Came back...and fell asleep myself.

See boys and girls, when you love someone you are capable to overlook and learn to adore. Not saying I am a fan of him calling the sheeps in, but I am a fan of him.

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I was telling a friendlast week that I should start posting MP3's on my site every week so people can stop asking me to send them music, or better yet, asking me what theys hould be listening to. I am not a guru of Music, but my taste I think is pretty freaking good...so instead of posting the MP3's and possibly getting myself into some shit I don't even want to deal with, I am going to post my top few week. Starting this week, so here we go! Hold on to your butts:

Chocolate And Cheese - Ween
Ween's humor and jam like qualities, aren't for everyone. These boys are one of those "Love Em or Hate Em" groups. You can either enjoy the randomness that is them or you can despise them. Most of the people who despise them are the ones who hate Phish...and the ones who love Phish tend to like Ween. Well, I hate Phish but I am telling you, you cannot deny this album is very listenable.

Key Tracks: "Baby Bitch", "Voodoo Lady", "Take Me Away", "What Deaner Was Talking About", and "Don't Shit Where You Eat".

Chocolate Wheelchair Album - Venetian Snares
This is very very heavy, aggressive as **** break beat. What you are getting here is very disoriented, complete insanity, wrapped up with an ear splitting bow! I can only say that if you aren't a fan of break beat or of something different, steer clear of this LP.

Key Tracks: "Einstein-Rosen Bridge" and "Hand Throw"

In the Aeroplane Over the Sea - Neutral Milk Hotel
I just have to say that there is an acoustic element to this LP that makes it something I can really sink my teeth into. I am a huge fan of Jeff's vocals; I find them to be no frill and to the point which can be appreciated in todays society of high glam, over done vocals. His vocals compliment the instruments almost like he was made to compliment them. Check this out, it's worth the time.

Key Tracks:"Ghost", "Holland 1945", "King of Carrot Flowers Pt. 1"

Good Apollo I'm Burning Star VI, Vol. 1: From Fear Through the Eyes Of Madness - Coheed and Cambria

Progressive Rock at it's tastiest; there are moments when the chords give me chills. Well thought out lyrics that are actually part of a story that Claudio's vocals tell with great passion. As all of the Coheed and Cambria's albums follow a set storyline, this one is another installment, giving it's listeners a trip into a world of keyworks, battles, love given, and love lost. Though most people have a hard time getting past Claudio's vocals, I beg to differ. I find them to be different and extremely breath taking at points. His vocal range is amazing.

Key Tracks: "Wake Up", "Welcome Home", "Apollo I: The Writing Writer", and "The Willing Well: IV - The Final Cut".

Frances the Mute - The Mars Volta
IT'S THE MARS VOLTA. WTF, I don't have to say shit else.

Face The Music - Melody Club
A little on the Pop Rock...okay a lot on the Pop Rock side of things, Melody Club is very fun, retro, and just something you can shake your booty too while you are cleaning the house up. I like em.

Key Track "Baby", "Boys In The Girls' Room", and "Cats In the Dark".

Thats all for now...I can't be bothered to keep on going. Hope you dig the sounds for the week.

001| Identity Theft, Financial Aid, and the Joys of Peppermint Tea.

2006-03-26T16:30:00.000-05:00

It takes years to find out who you really are; be it through struggle or through one of those moments from a sitcom where you are caught stark naked in front of a crowd of peers. Uncomfortable as I may be in the recent skin that I wear daily, I know who I am underneath it all. I never questioned it and some see it as a blessing disguised in a curse. The thing that I hate sometimes about revealing so much of myself in my numerous blogs and flabbergast, is that people will take pieces of you. Maybe it's what you wore in a photograph. Maybe it's words you say, actions you are known to perform, hell even your career choice...what ever it is, it can be annoying. Imitation is certainly not the highest form of flattery. Not in my case.

I've noted a wowsand times when certain cases take my impressions and rub themselves in it. I'm not saying I am a role model; hell, the last thing I would wish on someone is to model their lives after the fucked up monstrosity that I call my existence. *Cue the Self Pity violins* But I will say it's disturbring when I meet someone and they are so set and "secure" in their ways, and then two weeks later not only are they speaking like me but they are totally just not only stealing my thunder, but striking me in the ass with my own lightening bolts. ERM...double you tee eff, matey?!

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Me and my boyfriend are in a bit of financial troubles. Not knowing where you may be living in a few days time isn't always a secure feeling, none the less we battle it out and even if it seems to be a losing one, we put on our armor and fight it the best we can. Sometimes I just pretend like I am in some sexy espionage film where in the end we will emerge triumphantly and be rewarded with medals and pots of soup instead of tip toeing across the floor and shivering whenever the doorbell rings like some sort of reject, 2006 remake of The Diary of Anne Frank.

I want to ask my mother for help, maybe just a few dollars towards the cause, but hell I think I would have better luck ripping my own teeth out with a sledge hammer. Nice mental image, no? Still, it's not looking to bright of a future here for me in London. I don't want to go, no one wants to see me go, yet it appears that it's going to be the ultimate decision.

Hmm.

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Isn't the comfort a tea ridiculously curious? Or is it just me? Something about the warmth slipping down my throat cuts through the stresses that seem to be choking me. I've grown quite fond of just normal tea with cream and sugar, but also...also my friends, Peppermint Tea makes me a very relaxed girl.

However, if you don't like frequent visits to the bathroom to pee for what seems like hours (for all those suits and ties out there), I don't suggest you indulge yourself as much as I do.

When I say indulge...I'm averaging 4 cups a day. TOP THAT!

EDIT: James has asked me to inform you all, that it is 4 MUGS of tea a day, we don't deal with cups.

I think I will get some tea now.