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| Reading these former entries is ridiculous.
Ha.
Today is cold, overblown, and sleepy.
I met my new probation officer, she's the same as the rest of them, with their dykey hair cuts ( look who's talking ) and impatience, non-suprise to scary answers.
My past drug use is going to haunt me like a ghost.
"Have you considered rehab?" "Have you? because we're probably both junkies in our own right, anyway."
Coffee handfcuffs. 
I heard rehab's are like a vacation anyway.
My rehab proposal got tossed away because the judge deemed me a responsible kid.
Hey, responsible enough to live on my own?
I'm pregnant, also.
How timely, with Juno and Jamie and Lily Allen and everyone else.
But I'm sixteen, and scared to death.
Of the aftermath.
My boyfriend's moved up here to "take care of me". That's what he says. Like I was doing a perfectly messy job before he showed. But I like the company. This is new town, with unfamiliar faces. I say I've been everywhere, but it's not much different than all of the other little towns. No Goodwill.
He found a 2 bedroom, 2 bath trailer just walking distance from this duplex. It's sort of cozy, I mean, with a few framed pictures and candles, what isn't?
i love him a lot though. and he's the best company so far. Be a father of Cubism. Of my kid?
I just don't know what decision. Adoption and keeping it are ultimate choices I can't flip around once I've signed. and he wants to keep it so bad. but what if what if what if. 
and I want to go to that art institute of choice. Homeschooling is okay, because there's no questions of my attendance. It wasn't that I hated school itself. It's actually interesting, when I'm in the mood. I can't grin and bear it, which is a problem. But anyway, since I skipped literally half a year last year, I couldn't go back now if I wanted to. __Pablo Diego Jose Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno Maria de los Remedios Cipriano de la Santisima Trinidad Clito Ruiz y Picasso__ How about Lily? I love that name. :)
I can't name it if I don't keep it.
Camille<3.
I would die for a name like that.
Well, something like dying. I can't go skateboarding, or bungee jump or anything. No marijuana.
No dyeing of the hair.
Also, no cookie dough for the pregnant girl. I tried to lose myself in a book, but I kept chasing me.
It was either that, or because my neighbor brought over a carseat
and told me all about epidurals
My sister, who found her bohemian self in swampy Florida, told me au natural, hippieessque midwife is the way to go.
And her vagina is a-okay. I started sketching my baby brother, who I've been spending a lot of time with.
Not with my poetry or shoplifting habit, oh no, with this 7 month old cutiepie. And it's coming along. I've gained weight since all this, running away and the warrant, and all of the memories I made while being on the run.
I didn't meet anyone great, but the people I ran to were the best.
I don't care about the weight really.
I think anorexia's a matter of vanity now.
How vain are you? Vain enough for 12 days nonstop exercise?
Go for it, love. I can't believe there's a Rock of Love 2.
I'm pissed.
I loved Jess! Maybe it's because of the pink in my hair, but I bonded with her via infrared light and pixels.
{a tree grows in brooklyn}
Picasso's first word was pencil. 
"Only put off until tomorrow what you are willing to die having left undone." - Pablo Picasso | | |
| WOW
I am becoming
a fat fat boi.
Dieting again then.
Today
Breakfast:
Coffee/Cigarette Routine
and dammit, that's going to be it :(
I'm really upset at my weight.
I'm not even going to post it.
I'm letting my bangs grow out.
Oh well, at least I feel pretty.
Ummmmmmmmmm last night Josh and Aaron<3
[[When he holds me close,
&& I can hear his heartbeat,
&& kiss his lips, I realize,
this is where I want to be,
&& this is how I always want to feel.]]
came over. We went to the playground. Discovered Blueberry Manor. 
Crystal too. It was very interesting night. They're true thugs, man.
God, my horoscope is a BITCH today.
Taurus
April 19 - May 19
It may seem that you no longer completely believe in what you are doing, dear Taurus. Don't you think that the reason is that you have been going a little too fast in your quest to get what you need? It is very possible that your social life has slowed down a lot at the moment - and just when you decided to go at full speed in this domain. Surprising what the astral energy can do, isn't it? Don't get upset, because you can't do anything about it.
Um, whatever. It's not really like that at all.
I've been writing in my journal again. Picked flowers and wrote some poetry. It was great too, but I LOST it.
The poetry, not my mind.
I just watched the movie Thr3e.
And guess what? I saw everything coming. I've been reading too many suspense novels.
Crys and I went to Alex's yesterday and made dinner.
It was deliciousssssssssssss.
I'd be safe at home, if I was back in LA...
on such a winters day.
My fat ass doesn't need anymore dinner though. Grawr.
Anyway,, today I see my pyschiatrist.
I've been having anxiety attacks and I'm going to let him know all about it.
I've been, unfortunately, laying off the pot :(
"Pot triggers psychotic symptoms, brain scans show (CBC) - New findings on marijuana's damaging effect on the brain show the drug triggers temporary psychotic symptoms in some people, including hallucinations and paranoid delusions, doctors say. "
Yeah, that's the best damn part.
http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2007/04/27/earlyshow/saturday/main2737502.shtml
I'm tired. I woke up too early today.
Well, I love everyone in the world.
Peace Peace & Peace.
California Dreamin<3
someone show me the stars.musicon, world off. | | |
| i fucked up and it's over.  WOW, I haven't been on here in ages.
Well....New things happening I suppose.
I'm back with Aaron, my love my heart.Wouldn't you agree ;; baby you and me
we got a groovy kind of love...
He's my favorite person ever...
My best friend Stormy moved away and then RAN away to Washington.
Not cool and I feel we're getting distant. I've been writing a memoir, after I got out of my third stint in rehab called Polka Dots and Coke Rocks.
I've been in Alternative School, getting in trouble for leaving the porch in the morning to...to what? -ehem-
This Friday is 4:20, spark it up.
Marijuana. It's the place to be.
Sweet Lady Jaaaane. - The We're Better than You's.
I've been getting into new bands like The Noisettes, Tegan and Sara, Cut Chemist, && The Stills.
Been picking floweres and dancing and painting. 
I got a job with my neighbors. I really like working...I didn't think I would but it keeps my mind off other things. And an idle mind, especially mine, is no good.
I still dream of New York. I still sit with coffee and cigarettes and day dream.I still read books like a fanatic. I still cut up mirrors, and break vinyl records. I still swim in chocolate. I still wear boy short underwear around the house and hate my mom's boyfriend. I still eat a lot of fruit. I still obsess over Kurt Cobain and pretty punk songs. I fell in love twice. I went to a carnival, out of my mind, I'm always not on this planet. I cut out the uppers and stick with what I know best. I stayed out at the ocean and found my zen. I got an adrenaline rush playing Hide and Go Seek.  
and who am I kidding? I live illegal til I die. I chase the sunrise. And I find solitude in my pillows. I'm restless.. 
P h o t o g r a p h y on a Friday Night. I can't wait. I got into an ugly fight with my mom two days ago Oh dear,
you look so lost.
Eyes are red and tears are shed,
this world you must've crossed. I sat outside crying for what feltl ike forever until my great friends came over and took me away to a happy happy place. I love them <3 I wrote this not too recently but... 
<6PM>
Here in this hopeless fucking hole we call LA.
It's dinner time at the Warner surburban stucco.
Three figures crowd a... what was it mother?
Flash back to the day the movers arrive with the bulk
of our old lives. "Antique chesnut!" She announces. She's not even pleased,
she just wants to inform us that it is indeed, expensive.
Fret mother.
About the latte spill on your four hundred dollar suit.
About the empty Prozac prescription, sitting on the counter.
Your doctor said you didn't need it, but it's just so damn fashionable.
All the rage at the lunches.
Fret about your extensions, they're getting ratty.
What are they made of? Silk, horse hair, synthetic polyester, dead Vietnamese girls hair?
The car, you can't get the damn thing to start. Take it to the shop? Ridiculous.
Buy another, get a chauferr this time.
Fret about the battery bars on your laptop, work at home, work at the workplace,
work on vacation in the Virgin Islands, in Jamaica, in Rome.
Work, work, work. Type, click clack, it's your only purpose, father.
Fret about your beard, is it hipper to have a goatee?
Surfer hair on a fifty year old, well, Vicodin is always cool.
Fret about the piano nobody touches in the family room (museum) no body breathes in.
Mozart has got to be disappointed.
Fret about the neon sign screaming "Sell Out!" on the roof, is it too flashy?
Do they still not get the point?
We are IT.
Fuck it.
Truly, it's just warped and freakish.
Your botox, it's sinking into your pores again.
Another injection, another morning.
I think I'm going to hurl, thank god bulimia's coming back.
I almost thought anorexia beat us.
Four more lines, sniff sniff sniff. Nobody's judging.
Finish the baggy, eat it.
Fuck messanger bags.
Fuck converse.
Fuck vintage.
Fuck junkies and their non existant memory.
Fuck smiley glad-hands
With hidden agendas.
Fuck these dysfunctional,
Insecure actresses.
Fuck the seventies, the eighties, the hippies, the telephone booths.
Fuck red laquer, fuck mod.
Fuck tattooed arms and beautiful corset piercings.
Fuck your pain threshold.
Fuck calling you dollface, or sweetheart.
You are neither.
All this says, about anybody with a pulse, is they simply can't handle the reality
handed to them.
We must chain ourselves to art, to music, to long distance track, to farms, to
an actor, gambling addiction, a drug, a drink, a person...to something and claim it as ourselves.
It makes more sense for prediction, to box things up and to smack a label on them, quickly, end
of the show, move on move on. We can't live without it, but there it is, smiling so we can go on.
Fuck security.
Fuck the American Dream and making it ours.
Fuck commercials, love, treehouses and dancing in the rain.
It's all been done, built, said, cried over, laughed at, mocked, teased and pushed around.
You are that bully.
Fuck magazines, gossip rags.
Fuck telling the truth on the telephone to your best friend about last night.
Fuck overdosing in the bathroom.
Fucking sitting in a goddamn boat, meditating and finding zen and peace and all that other bullshit the granola chompers won't shut up about.
This is my world and I will stomp on it if I feel the need to.
Fuck MAC. Fuck techno beats.
Fuck the scent of your sweat in a backseat.
I can't hate it.
It's my enviroment and I breathe it, wear it, bask in it.
I can't cut it off.
I can't let it go.
I've tried but my mind is burned.
It's etched into my memory, phone numbers and obscure bands.
I can't rid myself of your dreams.
<MORNING>
It starts with a boom and a bang, a figment of reality, breakfast of coffee and two cigarettes if I want to make good time, and a jog to this old 91 convertible (don't fucking touch, could fall apart any given moment). It's paying your mothers rent and buying diapers for your sister. It's ignorning your stepdad's drunken bitching and his breaking of the radio you were sitting on the porch listening to. It's your laughable grades and your humble hopes for art school. It's a smashed cellphone and sick attempt to get a grip on an eating disorder. It's a payphone with gum on the mouthpiece. It's a ripped umbrella when your shoes are untied. It's my life.
I rush into the classroom, first thing I notice is the brillant blue of your eyes. It turns my stomach upside down, your work here is done. You can rest assured you have had an effect on my health.
Oh darling. It's not having time for tea and window shopping, watching the reflecting Times Square screens in the glare. It's having your Mardi Gras mask on twenty four seven while robbing the seven eleven. It's fallen through cocaine deals because you don't have the money and your boyfriend left you for the next big thing and he got you hooked. It's sucking sickness through a vent. It's the heater burning down the socket. I fake the hurt because I don't want to seem insensitive if I break something of yours.
Moving on, it's lunch break and I'm sneaking off campus with a girl who says she's got my back and we're hunched over in the '91 beauty parked underneath the local bridge snorting off whatever we can. It's not anything, I say. It doesn't taste right, she agrees. We don't care. It's the best we could get. And we start chatting about our lives together, running away to wherever we can and I get a little upset for no reason so I turn up the radio. It's our song and it's a sad one. We sing along, smoke the cigarettes right down to filter, watch the ash explode on our laps. Time to head back. No second thoughts.
And this period, my stomach doesn't feel so hot. I need to go somewhere, could we turn the a/c up? My headache is exploding and my nose is dripping down to my shitty shoes. I want to throw myself over the desk and fall into a coma, but who am I kidding? There's no way I'll be sleeping tonight. It's being built up and then quickly torn down. It's dissecting the situation and copping out. It's taking everything out of context, then throwing in the towel. It's a bitter pill, that leaves ruin down your throat.
It ends with a fizz of a licked out flame. It's something you sware you will not become. Ever. It's routine. It's saying you will and pretending to forget. It's the left hemisphere. It can happen to the nice, the naive, the angry and the beautiful.
<NIGHTTIME>
She keeps me hanging with a word. She's got this body, maybe it's not perfect, but it's so pale it glows underneath the nirvana of the strobe lights. Somehow she finds peace in the middle of that chaos. "It's kinda like irony." She tells me, cigarette smoke puffing out of her mouth, as she tugs up her boots. She brushes on some make up, black eyes, pale beige lips and the mirror never sees her again.
She says when she dances, she can feel the pulse of other people's lives inside of her mind. "And then," she tells me, grabbing my hand, "if I really feel a connection, they could... walk away and I would follow. They could take me anywhere."
Sometimes she sits alone outside watching the silence. When I sit beside her, she always has some offbeat question. "When you're with me, do I make you feel different? Have I shown you anything?" I wonder if she's on something, her eyes are so calm. I want to feel that calamity.
"Sure....you're amazing." She doesn't say anything, just lays on her back and tilts her head up to the sky.
After she kisses me she whispers, "I am so terrified, that you're afraid of this."
The last time I saw her was at midnight, it was a thunderstorm and she said the fear had finally caught up with her. Her old suitcase was in the trunk of the taxi. I couldn't imagine her going too far, she hates waiting. "Hey!" I called. "Leaving!" She called back as slammed the door.
"I don't know why...." My voice couldn't reach her before it was too late.
I can tell today might not be as pretty as I wanted it to be. what did i expect anyway? 
i'm awake, you're still sleeping
the sun will rise like yesterday
everything that we are now
is everything we can't let go
or its gone forever, far away
i hope tomorrow is like today
don't you go away tomorrow
i don't think i could handle that.
| | |
| it's been so long.
new years.
i have a stomach ulcer.
it hurts very badly.
the only new things about new years is that
cigarette prices are being raised by a dollar.
it's ridiculous.
and i have to be back in a resident education facility in a week.
by the way, i'm huge.
and mary kate is beautiful.
and i want to dye my hair. Lying on the floor, wishing this would pass.
I feel so...shitty. I'm so shaky and paranoid. For no reason. There is no life I know to compare with pure imagination. 
and your turpentine kiss goes straight to my lips
and i am robbed of all colors. I speak the truth,
the truth of the heart.
Like a desperate thirst
in a raging drought. 
[[The rain seems to trigger something inside of me;
a memory that I thought I'd lost forever.
A night filled with freedom, long, long age.
When I danced the night away in the streets
& nobody bothered telling me to "Come inside."
I believe that was the last night I ever truly felt alive.]] 
you are a song i want to sing. 
i wish i could be like all my heroes
i wish i could be like all yours, too
i wish i could sing like otis redding
i wish i could play this guitar in tune
how i wished i had one more life to live. 
i remember when we were driving, driving in your car.
speeds so fast I felt like I was drunk.
city lights lay out before us.
don't waste your time with people
who don't make you feel alive.
What we have here is a dreamer, someone completely out of touch with reality. When she jumped, she probably thought she would fly.
Well it rains and it pours
When your out on your own
If I crash on the couch can I
sleep in my clothes? Cause I've
spent the night dancing Im drunk,
i suppose If it looks like I'm laughing
I'm really just asking to leave.
we will sing pretty songs about love
and we will fight if that's what it takes
and we won't back down.
no we won't shut our eyes and go to sleep
we will write all over your walls
and we will dance to no music at all
we will do what it takes to get through to you 
I wake up to find it's another
Four pill morning, and I dive in
I wear the same clothes I wore yesterday.
When did society decide that we had to change
And wash a tee shirt after every individual use...
If it's not dirty, I'm gonna wear it.
I take the stairs to the car
And there's fog on the windows.
And rains tapping the roof.
I need caffeine in my blood stream,
I take nicotine in the blood stream.
I grip the wheel and all at once I realize.
you're getting away. 
| | |
| "'Carpe Diem.' Seize the day, ladies
Make your lives extraordinary."
Jesus Christ sometimes, I just love life. Just love living.
too bad I can't remember too much of it, sometimes.
I kid I kid.
[[i wanna run with reckless emotion,
find out if love is the size of the ocean.
and even if i crash and burn, at least
i know what it feels like to be alive.]]
My break was fantastic.
I went shopping with my best friends, got the raddest sunglasses and
polkiedotted dresses. I really do love them polkie dots.
And I met this fab boy...really...takes my mind off things.
His names Christian...I really do like him tremendously. He's adorable.
True story, last night I got wasted and told him I loved him.
He said he loved me too, but I think it was a little bit just to
humour me, the gullible drunk.
((Unless it's mad, passionate, extraordinary love, it's a waste of your time. There are too many mediocre things in life,
and love shouldn't be one of them.))
I met him at the show, quite beautiful.
I'm really jumpy today.
My neighbors are quite insane.
They have this four wheeler and I drove it,
woah do I like driving that thing.
I was incredibly intoxicated, you see, and
I'm quite suprised I didn't die last night
speeding across the bridge like that.
But I felt so alive, it was brillant.
I wonder what I said to Aaron last night too...
I did call him...I think I told him I loved him too
but I love everyone when I'm drunk, I'm such a fool sometimes.
I hope he didn't take me seriously.
[[i was the one who said things changed,
but you were the one who showed me
exactly how much they really did.]]
I hope Christian did.
Because I really do believe I'm falling for him
because just a thought of him brings this
incredibly loony smile to my face, and
I get all choked up, it's ridiculously awesome.
My dad is an asshole, by the way, visiting him was not worth
a trite slap across the face and whatnot.
I'm pressing charges for assault.
Put that in your juicebox and suck it, dear Faja.
[[Oh boo hoo.
You have a sob story.
We all have a sob story.
Don't think you're special,
or different because you're hurting.
Here's a secret....
We're all hurting.]]
I haven't been to school in three days.
I really should go participate, you see, my ass is
going to be renting a desk during Summer School methinks. i'm gonna stop looking back and start moving on.
learn how to face my fears.
love with all my heart, make my mark.
i wanna leave something here.
go out on a ledge, without any net.
that's what i'm gonna be about. yeah,
i'm gonna be running when the sand runs out.
cause people do it everyday,
promise themselves they're gonna change.
i've been there, but i'm changing from inside out.
that was then and this is now. I think it's going to rain, which is great, great stuff.
I'm down to 119.6. I think it's just because I'm sick though.
I can't finish eating anything...everything just tastes so horrible.
God, my brain is fried and my sense of anything has taken a leave of absence.
I feel skitzo or something. I think I need to slow down. Jesus.
I really do miss&love Holly. ((i find it cute when you're sad.
the way you rest your head upon your knees,
the way your lips tremble when you breathe in.
it's like you were made for me.))
Hard rock queens
In ripped up jeans
Everyone thinks they're so obscene
I'm taking my turn on the sin wagon
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