people be hating

people are hating on peaches geldof like there's no tomorrow.

i'm sorry but i think she's cute.

she's 19 and she writes for nylon.

i mean she's 20. pixie is 19.

they have cute names.

they have a sister named heavenly.

yes i am a hippie who would give my children names like this. sorry if i offend you but the truth is, i'm not that sorry. not even one bit.

anywho i think she's fabulous.

youngbeautifulrich.

like you WISH you were,

all you 30 year old hags who still read nylon.com and bitch about

20 year olds.

go to hell.

dont mess with me while i'm pmsing.

dont mess with peaches, either,apparently.

90210 totally rocked tonight. as usual. 90210 keeps getting better. gossip girl.. wasnt off to a great start with the first two episodes but they got back into a groove. michelle trachtenburg, not always a pretty sight. blake lively, though... wow. i think it's totally ok to watch tv like that, i'm not ashamed. i'm a thinker, i dont need to be "on" all the time. so don't judge me. i also watch degrassi, secret life of the american teenager (molly ringwald <3>

now get off my blog and go watch speidi fuck up america.

i

dont love you

anymore.

i

wish you would just

go away.

i

used to love you

once upon

a

time.

then you changed your style.

and you do all you can

to hurt me.

i

dont love you anymore.

not yet finished...

the sky was the color of passion fruit, and the leaves on the trees were a golden violet. the storm is a'comin' and she closes her eyes. the wind breathes down your neck and you feel alive. it's not yet october, you wish it were so. this feeling's forever, i thought you should know. you were the last thing on my mind when i died.

the world was a'spinnin', the orange light glowed, the pumpkins all cried out.."don't cut us into jack-o-lanterns, cuz the spirits will get out." it's halloween, all hallow's eve, the portal is open now. can you feel it? the wind and the grain. apple picking in the middle of may.

if they found you alone in the dark, do you know what they do to girls like you? they chew you up, swallow you, wash you down with beer. these goblins love ryebread and the taste of fear. i kiss you so gently, away to be you go. sweet dreams of candies and lakes and unicorns.

suck it.

how can anyone tell me that i am not normal?

how can anyone say that this whirlpool inside of me,

this rage, this laughter, this sadness, this honesty,

does not exist in anyone but i?

can you truly look me in the eye and tell me that you are

different than me?

or that you know everything i've gone through?

thats the other extreme.

we've all went through "things."

different things. the same thing in different form.

i am fucking raging inside.

and don;t tell me not to say that word.

don't tell me that you were never like me.

yet don't tell me that you once were.

i don't know what i want

and i might not be 200% sure of who i am.

but i know where i'm coming from

and i like to think i know where im going.

so suck it.

the letter

when he got the letter, his mouth went slack and all of his organs took a collective jump. his tongue was dry and he felt the oil glands on his hair follicles begin to leak. it wasn't as if this was unexpected. it should not have rendered him speechless; it should not have been a rubber band around his lungs. when he finally came around to the real world again he began to tear the hair out of his eyebrows. a nervous habit.

this could not be happening. oh, but it was. he sat down on the burgundy couch to calm himself. dare he even speak? aloud, to himself?

"I'M MELTING, I'M MELTING! OH, WHAT A WORLD, WHAT A WORLD."

FUCK what was that? the tv blared on in the next room. he feels hungry and sick at the same time. his mother. he had to call his mother. but they hadn't spoken in 12 years. not since he got out of there and moved to Pasadena with his father. not since he ran away because she could not be what he needed. she wasn't energetic, she didn't bake cookies or smile like the other moms. she stayed in all day on the couch watching soaps and crying. she was depressed. he did not want to be like her.

his palms sweaty, he reached for the pad of paper where he scrawled his addresses in a noir colored pen. he dialed 1. he dialed the area code. he dialed 7 numbers. he waited and waited and then a voice- a fragile voice- "Hello, -"

"MOM MOM IS IT TRUE?"

"You've reached Michelle. i'm not here right now but please leave a message after the tone."

he had to hang up. his voice was small, like when you're little and awaken in the dark, and try to call out for mommy, and nothing comes out.

he tried his father, his uncle. finally, he tried his brother. it rang 7 times. he thought no one would ever answer. not even a machine. "Hello?" a small voice said, sounding far away.

"It's Todd, is Mike there?"

"Todd?" the woman sounded like she would faint. "is that you? Todd?"

it was his mother. "Todd, he's gone."

"He was white. he was straight. he didn't use needles.." Todd was fading.

"AIDs does not discriminate."

he guessed it must be true as he fell onto the couch. although everyone wanted to categorize themselves into races and classes and most-likely-to's... it didnt always work. no, it didn't always work.

untitled II

i got bitten by the bug

and now i know there is no escape

i feel so lost and lonely

can you take it all away?

i can feel it

but deep inside

i cannot erase it from

my fragile mind

my fragile mind

i am so overcooked

feeling so overlooked

disadvantaged

but because of you

i am feeling everything

but black and blue

the colour

of bruises

laughs at me

and tilts his head

the joker

and the king of the blind

are edging towards me time after time

i can feel it

but deep inside

i cannot erase it from

my fragile mind

my fragile mind

that's money honey.

i'm bored. i want to write a story, but it's on the middle of my tongue, not the tip yet, so i am not quite there and i don't have anything to say... yet. i am so unentertained. i could be watching WEEDS SEASON FOUR but i'm not. i watched about 7 episodes between yesterday and today. i need a break. i could be reading GIRL GODDESS #9, a collection of short stories by FRANCESCA LIA BLOCK, but i read I WAS A TEENAGE FAIRY yesterday and today, so i'm all read out. i made a cd already. i went through my magazines for articles and pix to keep then i recycled them. i decided to write fan letters, but i don't know what to write yet. i've listened to so much music already, and i've eaten 2 meals and a snack. i have plans but they're not til later. not til at least 530. i was thinking of making a collage but at this point my boredom has become laziness. no one blogs on the weekends, so there's nothing to read. sarah morrison hasn't blogged in ages. where are you, sarah?! i miss you!

russell is here but he's busy. ari is busy. i'm seeing natalie tomorrow. havent heard from jen. jamie is away at school. everyone important is busy or gone. i saw andrea last night. applebees apple walnut salad and tomatoe basil soup are even better after 8 pm. teeny has been MIA. i think that writing this right now is the only thing keeping me sane until tonight when jody picks me up for the movie. and food. i dont even know what we should eat.

well, someone please put me out of my misery. a kiss with a fist is better than none...