wit deficit.

_euthanasia @ 2008-02-11T23:17:00

2008-02-12T04:17:09Z

I can overwrite anything.

_euthanasia @ 2007-12-13T19:58:00

2007-12-14T01:01:48Z

i wrote on essay on how my writing is a thick, black bruise--how with every piece i write, i spill words onto paper like blood into flesh. messy, meaningless splotches.

everything i think, everything i say now is contrived.

_euthanasia @ 2007-08-29T23:27:00

2007-08-30T03:27:12Z

also, my roommates just admitted they thought i was a lesbian when they first met me.

awesome. awkward. no.

_euthanasia @ 2007-08-29T23:25:00

2007-08-30T03:26:13Z

i get so mortified reading over the old things i've written.

they are pathetic strands of waste. i just deleted ninetysomething pages of waste.

i can't do this, you know?

_euthanasia @ 2007-08-27T14:47:00

2007-08-27T18:50:41Z

i'm back, maybe. who knows.

i spent all day reading and thinking about old memories that make my stomach hurt. i don't like thinking about insults from friends, pretty latino boys who cheated on me, old (pathetic) writing, or relationships that i never started or regret ruining.

i'm finding things from three, four years ago. i'm ripping this house apart.

_euthanasia @ 2007-06-07T17:47:00

2007-06-07T21:48:01Z

I am so frustrated and so ready to scream and so close to being rid of all of this.

And I don't know what to do about it.

_euthanasia @ 2007-03-26T19:42:00

2007-03-27T00:53:49Z

My brain is gummed up, sticky and slow, and my fingernails are rimmed in blackish-green acrylic paint, residue from the spoils of a failed painting.

And I am in love. I don't know how.

_euthanasia @ 2007-01-27T13:02:00

2007-01-27T18:09:40Z

I fall asleep in Koyt's bed everytime I visit him; it's an inexorable part of our routine and, try as I might, I cannot shake it off.

And it used to be that when he was around me everyone else seemed miles away, fluidly distant, like telling summer secrets to your friend underwater in a pool. The person is close but the sound seems so far away, so slow and thick.

So now I'm stumbling away from that. Everyone is life-sized, some larger.

Some so childish, so immature, so mean that I can't help falling in love with them instead,--with their flaws and their ultimate humanity and the parts of me that I see in them--until I'm in platonic love with everyone and there just isn't enough to go around.

It's all piling up around me, like so many unanswered emails and unsent postcards, like so many shy smiles in hallways and awkward seating arrangements around crowded lunchroom tables.

_euthanasia @ 2007-01-22T21:13:00

2007-01-23T02:14:13Z

i feel filthy all of the time.

i'm hung up in decisions
and bound by guilt.

i painted a box,
heart-shaped and purple,
lined with silver.

and i carved a hole in its lid,
small enough to slip scraps of handmade paper through,
and bound the box shut with wire--
bound it shut with cryptic imagery
and the single word "regrets",
so that its heaviness
may lift my own.

_euthanasia @ 2007-01-16T22:28:00

2007-01-17T03:30:42Z

I have inferiority complexes about everything now.

I guess they just snuck up on me.

I worry about everything--this whole college rat race, my inability to socially cope, the three-hour nights I'm pulling, that (formerly, but apparently no longer) cute ring of fat around my mid-section.

I thought everything was O.K.

But, most importantly, I thought I had phased out the whining and phased in the actually doing something.

But, no; I'm turning my old tricks again.

_euthanasia @ 2007-01-09T21:30:00

2007-01-10T01:30:39Z

I came home early and pounded out songs on the piano, repetitive and docile, like when I first learned to play—with fat, stumbling, childish fingers—my first C scale.

It sounded like a caterpillar, sluggish and unsteady over the keys.

And I held my foot down—put my foot down like I should have today—on the first right pedal.

I held it down until the keys all meshed together, indistinguishable, until I could not hear the sounds of my own mistakes, only the cyclical mess that they all added up to become.

And it seems like all I’m looking at lately is that mess.

I am unaware of my mistakes, the individual passing tones that, held in the air by my own stubbornness, distort even the things that I’m doing right.

.

2006-12-22T16:36:30Z

It's been, what, several months?

I wish I had something more tangible to offer up on the altar of self-scrutiny--some small shred of wit or vigor.

You know, some lesson learned, some fumbled and broken love, or even a step taken toward a finite future.

But I'm as lost as I ever have been, only now I've fooled myself into thinking I'm getting somewhere.

My friendships have fallen apart from my own self-absorption and remained in pieces because of my regret and shame; my relationship with Koyt is being chiseled away by my increasing focus on schoolwork and college.

I cannot write.

I feel directionless--I try brainstorming who and where I want to be and what I'm doing wrong.

But it never solidifies into raindrops of relief.

It just stays cloudlike and fleeting, hanging over me and obscuring any light that I could otherwise recieve.

_euthanasia @ 2006-07-31T11:14:00

2006-07-31T15:14:46Z

i feel like a zombie infiltrating my own home.

more on governor's school later.

_euthanasia @ 2006-06-02T20:31:00

2006-06-03T00:37:37Z

so i guess there are just days where you wake up and you wonder 'am i boring?' and you know that the answer is yes but it doesn't bother you.

koyt brings me plastic lobsters in the daytime and at night i worry about leaving for governor's school and community service and why i should work hard to go to some pompous, high-strung college that i don't even want to step foot on.

i should go to charlotte. my fancy "advanced placement" friends who all want to go to duke would shit bricks.

they made me stand on stage today
in a skirt
because i am supposed to be proud of
having the highest noncumulative
GPA in my class for the school year,
but instead i just stared into a hundred apathetic faces
like a fool.

i am reclusive and unapologetic.

i am distant, and the respite has spoiled me.

_euthanasia @ 2006-03-21T20:31:00

2006-03-22T01:34:23Z

"A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines.

With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do.

He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall.

Speak what you think now in hard words, and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said to-day."

--Ralph Waldo Emerson

my truth is changing too quickly to chart.

i have been called to my face inconsistent on many occasions--
a hypocrite in more words.

i am beginning to take pride in my inconsistency of opinion.

_euthanasia @ 2006-03-21T20:17:00

2006-03-22T01:24:41Z

i skittered through the crowded mall on saturday,
with my hands spending the majority of their time
grasped around an unwieldy epee mask or
taking score for a televised bout.

i threw up pop tarts sunday between bouts,
and lost two of them la belle,
but koyt is e-rated in both weapons
and i couldn't be more proud.

i have been formally accepted by the governor's school west of north carolina, without the abundance of happiness i expected to feel.

i am starving, but no small victory is nourishing anymore.

everything is best when hurled into the larger picture.
i am thinking huge.
and i am singing while i work.

_euthanasia @ 2006-03-18T09:28:00

2006-03-18T14:31:55Z

for the most part, i feel no need to document, describe, or even maneuver around any day-to-day occurrences.

it is nothing personal;
it certainly isn't another infantile promise.

i'm just tired of thinking big.

"i wrote this song before some of you had titties."

2006-03-12T16:51:04Z

reggie/common denominator/fluxuation was a sweaty good time last night,
with a fake blood version of dethnotronic
and r. kelly rap mimes
and naked hairy beer belly.

_euthanasia @ 2006-03-05T11:50:00

2006-03-05T16:56:44Z

someone told me once, when i was very young, that the inconsequential hole in my heart will keep me from ever giving my blood, plasma, or marrow to another human being.

i don't know whether the statement holds true, but when i was young i was too afraid to find out.

no one wants to hear that their blood is mixed, partially oxegenated, or defective.

when i see the blood drive posters plastered soundly in the halls at school, and when i'm asked by students and teachers why i am not donating blood, i tell them that it is because i am selfish.

and i am. i am too selfish to simply ask a doctor whether or not i can.

koyt and i went to see the agony scene last night.

i passionately dislike tremont, but somehow am always drawn back to it.

learning

2006-02-26T17:41:47Z

i ate snow every hour for five hours, sometimes fluffy and sometimes solid ice.

i learned quickly how to start and stop,
never experiencing the joy of turning.
but by the last hour i conquered the easier of the two slopes.

gliding smoothly on skis may not be my forte,
but next november is snowboarding. koyt promises.

_euthanasia @ 2006-02-20T20:15:00

2006-02-21T01:17:47Z

i'm a horrible friend and, i guess, a horrible girlfriend.

i made a list of things that make me feel bad inside, but that i don't know how to fix.

amnesty, that time i didn't call kristina about thai, mucking up my friendships, mediocre test grades, whether koyt's mom really likes me or not.

just the usuals.

_euthanasia @ 2006-02-07T19:15:00

2006-02-08T00:24:15Z

i leave my car doors unlocked these days,
because if anyone is desperate enough to steal an orange cream air freshener
and debussy sheet music,
they deserve them more than i do.

and when i leave from seeing matrell,
there is always a woman waiting outside of her door.

with gray hair, but so eager to learn something new
at an age when most give up.

she always wears her belk's nametag
and her husband always waits outside in their battered pickup truck.

and she is beautiful.
i imagine her shrunken fingers aligned with the keys as she plays.

_euthanasia @ 2006-02-06T17:22:00

2006-02-06T22:27:13Z

my fish's tail is disintegrating.
mom won't let me take him to the vet,
so he just sits at the bottom of the tank, dissolving.

i don't feel triumphant, like the big kids say i should.

i just feel like a parcel of kinetic energy--a machine or a toy.

_euthanasia @ 2006-02-04T21:44:00

2006-02-05T02:46:05Z

dad called the cops on garrett, which is kind of funny when i really think about it.

_euthanasia @ 2006-01-31T17:49:00

2006-01-31T22:50:37Z

i still have christmas presents for people sitting on my desk.
they are reminders of the people
who i love but i don't ever see
because i am clumsy and selfish.

i guess i just want to love
and not worry about the future
or how my love will evolve.