Helen had nothing on me

This is the end...

2003-04-22T17:06:59Z

Gothcrumpet is no more.

There is a new place to look if you want to know.

If you haven't found it, email me.

-R

gothcrumpet @ 2003-04-17T18:11:00

2003-04-18T01:11:37Z

Okay, so here goes.

Any one who wants to help out with my web page should either lend me a hammer with which to hit myself in the head, or, find me a copy of photoshop for OSX.

*sigh* I want to get this thing finished.

And yes, I've postponed a real entry for this. Sad, eh?

The time has come...

2003-04-17T19:25:07Z

Out where the river broke
The bloodwood and the desert oak
Holden wrecks and boiling diesels
Steam in forty five degrees

The time has come
To say fair's fair
To pay the rent
To pay our share

The time has come
A fact's a fact
It belongs to them
Let's give it back

How can we dance when our earth is turning
How do we sleep while our beds are burning
Four wheels scare the cockatoos
From Kintore East to Yuendemu
The western desert lives and breathes
In forty five degrees

Dividing Canaan; piece by piece...

2003-04-17T07:20:06Z

Another day later, another day wiser, and I'm falling asleep inside my own head. With dripping wet hair and a sigh, wondering how much to tell you all.

My monologue, monograph, falling leaf treatise is being writtin in the notebook I lost under the bed.

I wanted to say something meaningful, but tonight truth feels ugly. Gangly. Like the freckled step child.

So instead I'm meandering through it all in darkness.

I love you all, even those I don't.

Why am I not suprised?

2003-04-16T23:29:05Z

What Sinfest Character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

gothcrumpet @ 2003-04-14T02:05:00

2003-04-14T09:24:59Z

"The woman is an erotic terrorist." Found on some random page of Jay Wiseman's SM101 which the lovely random_vamp and I acquired today on one of our random trips about the city.

This is going to work with me tomorrow, even if I don't take it out in front of my boss. Just knowing it's in my backpack will make me feel extra "deviant" all day.

Speaking of all day...I'd been looking forward to talking with diabhol tonight, but I think he's fallen back into post camping-trip slumber. I'm pouting. Seriously? I need to get home at some point tomorrow to drop off cash, pick up his message, and maybe give him a call. Not sure yet.

*sigh* Anyway, I should get to bed.

We've all been pushed too far...

2003-04-10T23:26:45Z

This piece was started a while ago, but I've finally made it all fit.

I want to go out in the desert and be changed.

I want to get high. To live life in a constant dissociative state. To run my hands over my skin and feel nothing.

I want to stop living ten minutes at a time. For other people. For reasons. I want to look at the sky and see something else.

I want to known the secret name of god.

I want to die.

Does that make this a suicide note?

I've been a grown up so long I should be able to retire. Watch my brother and make sure he doesn't fall under the wrong influence. Make sure my father wakes up on time. Is it any wonder that I cut school more often than I went?

If all of your life is reduced to souvenirs, what does that make mine?

I want to stop remembering.

I'm not afraid of the dark. I'm afraid a blanket has been pulled over my head and I'm being raped. Again.

Is that why I give it away? Because you can't take what I let you have?

My manifesto is angry.

I'm angry.

No, that's a lie. Anger is something reserved for those who feel things that hurt other people.

I've become insensitive.

I want to trust.

I want to be taken care of. Secure. Safe. Like my childhood should have been.

I want to be weak, stupid, pitiable. Then at least it would have been easy.

I want to not have been fucked over by talk of your childhood. By your addictions. By your fucking pain. I want to not be scared that I'll grow up to be you.

Both of you.

Each half of you my double helix, and only one of you still here to punish. Dad got off easy, he left me and died.

I still don't believe it's true.

I love you both. I wish I didn't. Wish I could hate you. Pretend you meant nothing to me.

Speed, meth, pot, heroin, coke, nitrous.

I'm scared to be like you.

Fat, bitter, cruel, unfeeling. Clutching at love. I'm not you.

But here I am, 50 mg. of ephedra into my day. A magic metabolism pill to bring me closer to the divine state of perfect being.

Legal speed.

I want to know what it's like. To be perfect.

I never will.

You both screwed me with clinical depression. With talent and brains and understanding. I hate myself.

It's easy to learn to hate yourself when you're not enough for anyone else. Too loud, too bossy, to fucking self-aware.

You never loved me. You loved your chance to live through me. To have perfect love and perfect trust from someone who would always be made of half your genes.

And I played along. Because I didn't know any better. How could I, I was told the universe believed in your system.

I ran away because I was afraid. Because you want to know me, and I want to live. I don't want you to realize that I can't deny you. I never could.

They say E makes the world perfect. That for a few shining seconds you love everyone.

I want all the answers.

If I had ten minutes alone what would I do with it? I've never been really alone. Always someone else, a phone call, an instant message, a boyfriend, a surrogate mother.

A gaping (w)hole where my brother should have been. You trained him to hate me, you know? I was imperfect, but in his eyes I was sainted. Blessed. The ideal fucking woman.

We loved each other so hard, so perfectly, that some days without him I feel I'll suffocate. And then you broke us apart. You wanted him. Planned him. Because I was a mistake. An aberation who could not be allowed to grow up alone.

This is how easy it is to hate yourself.

I'm afraid of being me. Because you didn't want me. Would have aborted me if you didn't need me for some other purpose.

How many drugs did you do while pregnant with me? Did you shoot up? Do lines? Watch your dreams float away on someone else's coat tails. How many drinks did it take to conceive me.

Would you really care if I died?

Legal speed. 50 mg. and I'm racing. If I took enough of them I could explode my heart. Die of an overdose of metabolic enhancers designed to ride my body of any trace of familial resemblance.

And the sad thing? They make me want to fuck.

Did you ever really love him? Do you love me? Or just the me you see in the mirror. Your ideal little gothic child, all twisted pain and abuse. Abuse you take no credit for because you weren't there.

That's abuse too.

Silliness of the Mage sort...

2003-04-10T22:53:42Z

Thanks for this go to Dan Bass as well as myself...

Ode to the Akashic Brotherhood
(To the tune of "Do Re Mi" from Sound of Music)

Do, an Art, and Akashic Art
Ray, the guy who kicks my ass
Me, a mage, I run away
Fa(r) the distance I will run
So as to avoid the blow
(Hope he doesn't follow me)
Ki! The noise he shouts aloud
Which will bring us back to do!

I feel fine enough, I guess...

2003-04-04T02:27:09Z

The short version: I have to find a new place to live in the next 27 or so days. I also need a new job really, because the theatre isn't cutting it. Anyone who has a line on how to get into bartending without shelling out the $$ for bartender school and/or would like to pay for said school ( ;) ) give me a holler!

***

The long version?

So when I moved into the place I'm living now there was an agreement that I wouldn't be moving out till August. The whole idea was that they wanted someone to be long term, and I wanted someplace relatively long term. So I've paid my rent on time, been a little sketchy on when the bills were due, but gotten all my money and even late fees in on time, and been generally good when I was there.

So today the housemates tell me that they girl that is going to move in in August has lost her place to live, and needs to move into the house by May 1st. So they were wondering if I could find a new place to live by then.

Any thoughts?

It is also lonely among men...

2003-03-31T10:30:31Z

This journal has watched me go through so much, just sat here silently and waited for me to pour out into its "pages" or not. Has watched me as I've grown, and as I've resisted growth, hiding instead behind a facade of knowing who I already am.

I don't. I'm barely stretching my wings into the world, and I can, sometimes, admit that.

The box that is my life is made of leaded glass windowpanes. More and more often my mind is distracted by thoughts of muscles stretched taut, of gleaming silver edges, wistful kisses.

Language is falling apart when I try to craft it into meaningful communications. I am truly becoming a nihilist.

Why is everything going wrong? I am looking out on the dream of what was, I am looking at the hope of what could be, and I am cursing every time I let things fall to pieces.

***

I am restless.

***

There is a stretch of alkali desert that has already started whispering promises to me. Promises through the stories of others, that it knows how to cure me, that it can provide relief. There are the words of hundreds who I have known, directly and indirectly.

There are those I was suprised to know of, and those who it came as no shock about.

I will spend a week in the desert, I will let the searing hot sun kiss my skin. I will be caressed by those who have promised me such things.

Perhaps I will hear the beating heart of the world. Just turn me loose from the cages of steel and concrete, from the mire of men.

Perhaps I will learn to breathe.

Switch...

2003-03-31T04:18:05Z

A weird synchronicity steals over my thoughts of the weekend... Wicked City on Friday where I got to play with rope, and a pretty girl's legs...Dancing on Saturday with a Dj who had a wonderful talent for moving us from Trance to Tribal and back again. (I have to know who he was!)

There was no khopri, however between his dad and the fact that he was in town to see his lady I'm not suprised. A bit saddened, but not because of him...I'd just been looking forward to it, and now I will have to wait. Oh, such a tragic life.

N, however, is lovely. And cheerful. And wore a ton of while, including a boa I got to wear briefly while chatting with T. (I really need aliases for them...) She also let me tie her ankle to her thigh in demonstration for a "newbie". That was quite exciting.

But, no one worked on me. So I'm still craving a good number of things, possibly to be outlined later. Le sigh, right? Shouldn't complain...I just was hoping...

The bar down the street, I believe it's called The Top Dollar, has Raspberry, Pear, and Apple cider, as well as root bear on tap. Mmmm.

Anyway kids, time for me to make dinner. I'll be back later tonight with a sex based entry for those of you who care. ;)

One more for today...

2003-03-24T23:56:34Z

A song I rather like, and find fairly topical.

"Sorrow"

Father can you hear me?
How have I let you down?
I curse the day that I was born
and all the sorrow in this world

Let me take you to the herding ground
where all good men are trampled down
Just to settle a bet that could not be won
between a prideful father and his son

Will you guide me now for I can't see a reason
for the suffering and this long misery
What if every living soul could be upright and strong?
Well then I do imagine

There will be (sorrow)
Yeah there will be (sorrow)
And there will be sorrow no more

When all soldiers lay their weapons down
or when all kings and all queens relinquish their crowns
Or when the only true messiah rescues us
from ourselves it's easy to imagine

There will be (sorrow)
Yeah there will be (sorrow)
And there will be sorrow no more

There will be (sorrow)
Yeah there will be (sorrow)
And there will be sorrow no more

Yeah there will be (sorrow)
Yeah there will be (sorrow)
And there will be sorrow no more

Thoughts on the nature of tyranny...

2003-03-24T22:28:11Z

All men recognize the right of revolution: that is, the right to refuse allegiance to, or to resist, the government when its tyranny or its inefficiency are great and unendurable. -- Henry David Thoreau

It is lawful and hath been held so through all ages for any one who have the power to call to account a tyrant or wicked king, and after due conviction to depose and put him to death. -- John Milton

When the government violates the people's rights, insurrection is, for the people and for each portion of the people, the most sacred of rights and the most indispensable of duties. -- Marquis De Lafayette

This is going to be an unpopular entry...

2003-03-24T22:01:51Z

I know that. I'm warning you all now that someone out there among you is going to take offense at this. I apologize if you take it personally. It isn't meant that way.

I am not interested in this fucking war. I am not interested in "supporting" Bush's agression. I am sick of news coverage, PSA's, seeing cops on the dead streets downtown while I am on my way to work.

I didn't vote for Bush. I voted for Gore. I am a democrat, and more than that, I am a fairly liberal democrat. I am afraid for the rights of United States citizens, rights that are being eroded and chipped at as this war gets well and truly underway. I'm wondering when my rights to say these things will be taken away, as I know they would be if those in power could truly have the things they've tried for.

Don't get me wrong. I am a "patriot". I believe in the values that the Constitution espouses. I feel empathy for the families who have members in the armed forces. I will support those members of the armed forces in whatever way I am able.

But I don't support this war.

It's hard, afterall, to believe in an idea that can be broken into such manageable parts, when the parts consist of elements such as "we need the oil", "my dad couldn't beat him, but I will", "let's establish the 'American' way of life abroad". Saddam may be the anti-christ, it's quite possible, but that doesn't excuse unilateral military action. That doesn't excuse fighting a war to enforce personal values on a country that does not hold those values.

...Newscasts have said that Saddam has the weapons that terrorists would have used. That we are justified in attacking because he woudl do the same to us. Meanwhile, there is an army in North Korea that no one's heard about in a while. An army that is most likely planning military action against us.

Perhaps some day I will live in a country where I am proud to say that I support the choice of military action. But for now I am only living in fear and anger at a choice that means I have to resolve to feel for the humans involved, and seperate them from the situation.

I am sad, and I can only hope that those who pray for peace will be successful. The pain of those who suffer is greater than any gain we'll see otherwise.

Never was and never will be...

2003-03-15T03:36:04Z

It's raining on my city. I'm breathing deeply of the rain, and crying a little, and I can't really tell you why. Except that it's beautiful.

She's got these beautiful words and I wish sometimes that I could have words like that. Not with envy, just with the admiration of someone who knows how to craft things.

I'm going to LA this weekend. Wish me well.

***

These beautiful things that I wish I had said, and places I've wanted to be. If we could grow up to be the ones we love then...would I try to be her, instead of me?

I'm drinking the sweetest of kir royales, thinking about things, and starting to wonder if the memories I feel are pressing in for a real reason or not.

The thickness of the air there, the taste of sun...these things are things I think about, things I haven't really been able to describe.

And to those who say I blow things out of proportion, I must say that I would always have a rose-tinted view.

I miss being...

Faded like a photo left too long on the dash...

2003-03-11T02:48:44Z

Decadence.

I'm longing for a room full of people. Music that twists it's way through your body, that leaves your muscles tight and your heart full. I want to be dressed in clothes that cover and expose, my skin slick with the sheen of sweat that comes from exertion, and elevated body temperature.

Indulgence.

I'm thinking of melting into hands and sheets and soft words. Sensations that I can't even name, feelings I thought I'd never see again, wish fulfilment and things I've always wanted. Waking up the next morning feeling amazing. Best kisses. Dream states and trance states and actualization.

When?

gothcrumpet @ 2003-03-10T04:26:00

2003-03-10T12:28:56Z

I envy The Judge, he has words for things I've been trying to say.

I want to find a party like that too...

Fuck I need to find a new mode of being.

BDSM, Gor, and why I think some people are morons...

2003-03-09T22:52:33Z

No. The first two and the last are not related.

First, people are morons: San Francisco (and surrounding area) is full of people who don't know how to drive. I think from now on, everyone should be required to do ten hours of behind the wheel training when buying a new car. And take SUV's away from everyone. Please. Those who *actually* need them can pick them up at the edge of the road, 25 miles away from civilization. Thanks. ;)

Now BDSM and Gor... (Note, I'm going to get ranty...)

John Norman was an asshole with issues about women. Anyone who wants to dispute that is welcome to try providing me with evidence that he did not. I will enjoy the challenge. It'll be funny to watch the struggle.

Now, I'm not saying that this invalidates anyone's right to have Gor-ism as a kink. I am all for the concept that like freedom of speech and thought and persuit of happiness, kinkiness is something I should sort of just support, and if I don't like the kink, politely tell people so when I am asked.

Now, that's great and fine as a philosophy. However, I often find that people with Gor kinks (note, I am not saying everyone, just a portion that I have had the misfortune to encounter) want to extend their vision of the order of the universe onto me as well. I am not interested in being told that because I am female my place is to serve my man. I am a submissive because it is what I feel is comfortable for me...not because I have some weak piece of dna.

I've met some truly lovely people, who I adored, until the concepts above were espoused by them. I have encountered the world view that was covered in someone's post (monmouth?) on a forum I am in. The one where the possibility for female doms and male subs doesn't really exist because of the ideas behind their "society".

And to think, this whole rant started because someone was chased off the community.

I apologize to her that she felt attacked. I feel honestly bad that the community seemed to take such a hard line stance in commenting on her kink.

But I also had a hard time not opening my mouth and adding to the discussion. She wrote that her (paraphrased) "background was strongly Gorean, and her master's was from a society with strict casteing systems where the expected role of women was much the same". She was griping about how her "master" seemed bored. How could she fix it. When the response was given that according to her chosen belief set, she couldn't really, she got kind of upset.

But there was a point in that.

Anyhow, my rant is disolving, so I'm gonna wrap it up with: Your kink is your own, and I'm not passing judgement. But please, do try to be sensitive about others, and try not to need babying along because you feel attacked. If you are comfortable with it, you won't feel a need, and if you aren't comfortable, you should figure out why.

As usual, I love you all.

Fractals, lemmings, and music...

2003-03-06T23:43:23Z

First...

This is my little bit of the Mandelbrot set.
I got it from the mandelbit generator.
You can get one there too.

Next... I want to make fractal music...anyone have any ideas? The theory is that since fractals just use math formulas to define themselves, how they're colored, and stuff...couldn't I use those formulae to make music instead? Anyone have any ideas?

"I'll give you a hint...we used an awfully heavy feather..."

2003-03-04T23:07:28Z

So much on my mind right now. I'm fucking ill, which is probably at the forefront. So I'm chillin' on the couch with the Lion's laptop, listening to MTV. I love the cold medication/dayquil high (okay, I don't love it at all...) and I'm trying to organize the rest of my thoughts.

So. My one of my many neurotic tendencies is the fact that when I get interested in someone's online life, or when I have time, or whatever, I go back to the beginning of their journal, and try to read through the whole thing in chronological order, just to get an idea of the flow. This project has now been undertaken for The Judge, since he's good friends with the Devil Man. And because I'm interested. And because, well, I have nothing else to read.

Looking forward to June, and going down to LA for the Atonement thing... Chance to hang out with Devil Man in an atmosphere where I can just kinda be the girl I am without having to worry about judgment, etc. After going to the Connecticut Yankee the other night for the local munch...well, I'm looking forward to a place where the "scene" isn't full of people who I feel so paranoid around. Okay, the SF'ers aren't all (or even a majority) people I'm uncomfy with...it's just that there's a prominent few, and I got stuck at a table that I'm really not sure how I felt about sitting there.

The Lion and I went to the Yankee for the munch on Thursday (oh god, do I loathe that word as a title for a gathering). Friday night we went to "Spank", which was actually pretty cool. Somewhat like being at Kink, only a hell of a lot noisier. I got all wistful for a dom who would play with me in public...and a full toybag, but I suppose both of these will come in time. I have to say it's nice to have the chance to go out and relax in an environment where I can feel comfy in a corset and on a leash. (This is the life...)

But still, I find my mind turning away from the big city...anticipating little things...trips, wanderings, preparations. My first year at Burning Man. I'm looking forward to being "on the playa" after all the things I've heard and read and seen. Figuring out how I am going to balance my time between Lion and Devil is quite a chore, mind you, but one I enjoy. Weird...I love them both, and for all I grouse about the work, I wouldn't trade my relationships in for anything. I actually enjoy the work of trying to keep everything as balanced as I can...if only because it's a refreshing change from not being loved.

Back to June...I have to say... Devil Man promised me something, and my anticipation is all knotted up in my stomach. In a good way. Little butterflies tied up. Hmmm, that could be a really cute picture. (Visions of girls in butterfly costumes in rope harnesses.) Many many things, places my mind is going. Places my mind is going in March. Waiting is such a delicious game...too bad that both of my boys seem to have it down to a science, and I can barely take it. It's just unfair. (Not that I'd ever change it.)

At least I have a few of my own tricks up my sleeve. Plans for PVC clothing (gotta remember to find out what needle the sewing machine needs for that), short skirts, thigh highs, stripper heels. Packing suitcases for my various adeventures mentally already. Looking forward to hitting the Mission St. Thrift Store again, and seeing if they have any more saris, since I've found about one a week there. (Most of them aren't pretty enough for my tastes, so so far the only one I bought is the black and white one that you all might be seeing pictures of soon.) By the time leaving for the playa comes around, I may need to find a portable wardrobe just to somehow fit all the clothes.

And to think that normally I'm the light packer.

Last night I went dancing at Death Guild (yes, even I laugh at the name, but it's actually pretty okay). I requested a Tori song and then managed to be outside smoking when it played. I cursed about that. But I did get (as usual) to dance to Lovegrove, which has to still be my favorite Dead Can Dance song ever. Think the dancing may have helped a little to fight off the illness...and last night I felt the edges of the trance state. I would have dropped all the way in, but the concept of doing that, while ill, in a club, just didn't seem like a good idea. But I really, really, really think I could use that chance soon. Maybe while I'm in LA over the 16th weekend, if nothing else.

Oh, and today's title is a gift for The Judge (if he ever looks over here), from myself, stolen from Neil Gaiman.

I wish you would...

2003-03-02T10:35:11Z

I want to write a journal entry. I can feel it sort of tugging at the sides of my brain, it wants to be let out to play. But I don't know what it is I'm trying to say. I think I was going to muse on D/s relationships. On the nature of my writing, on many many many things.

I wrote a story piece the other day, something a little unusual for me, in that it explored a side of my fantasy life that don't really come up all that often.

There are a very few people who I let people read this stuff. I trust few people not to take this stuff to the wrong extremes about me.

Okay, apparently one of my boys needs my attention... More when I have time to think.

So let me be a sparkle one night...

2003-03-01T02:35:28Z

Thoughts. Comments. Questions. Obsessions. Journallings of all sort now included.

I'm talking to my boys, and realizing that the world is right, I feel good, for once. I had the strangest dream, featuring candy hearts and smiley tabs, and weird houses. You'd think I was a fucking Poe song.

There are things I want to see and do and be, and sometimes I wonder if those of you out there are listening. Sometimes I wonder if you're judging. I've realized that I know many of you, but I don't know your opinions on various things...on drugs, or sex, or rock and roll.

The lovely gislebertus posted that he's a conservative (not a leftwinger/libertarian), not a goth, supports the war in Iraq. I wasn't sure how to feel about that, because he's cool, and yet some of these were things I didn't ideologically agree with. But I guess I can live with it, since he rocks my world. (Yes, my disapproval was in a kidding tone...)

More seriously I'm refocusing on certain things in my life, editing out others. My quest for self-knowledge needs jumpstarting, and I'm sick of waiting for someone to come along with metaphsyical jumper cables. There are things I want to know about the world, and I don't really have time to wait around for this all to come to me...

My sexual self-exploration is taking on new tones. I am a sub, I'm okay with that. I like pain games, I like doms who can get in your head, I want to learn more about how that works. I want to learn more about what it means to me. I want to learn, period. I'm ready for a change in my self-identified weaknesses. I'm ready to finally get out and get what I need from sex, instead of providing partners with emotional solace. Dr. Drew was wrong when he said women don't need orgasms to be complete.

I'm into drugs, I can admit that too. There are things to know about yourself from various substances, things that you may never get the courage to find out elsewise. It costs, it's risky...but I'm ready to take that journey. I want to know what comes at three am after a dive in that pool. I want to know if trance really does come from substances, if I use them right. I want to be that girl who looks back years from now and says "I didn't out grow the drugs, I just learned everything I needed to know."

I'm ready to take care of me. I realized yesterday while talking to someone that I didn't care about their opinions, I'm ready to move on to the next level of transcendence. I've got boundless love, and boundless hate, and I'm okay with that. Slowly my struggle for right thought and right action conquers that which is negative. I've learned that the high road has fewer pebbles.

I love you all. Even those I don't.

And re-runs are become our memories...

2003-02-25T10:27:20Z

I'm Rowan Cota. A 21 year old, not ready to grow up, but too aged to go back.

For now I'm not Distressed Snow, or Gothcrumpet, or The Girl With the Nickel Plated Nine.

This will change. Everything does.

I remember being grounded off chocolate for a year for stealing candy from my dad's "secret" stash.

I remember being told I was smart and beautiful and that I was just intimidating beacuse of that fact.

I remember thinking I could do anything.

I remember my dad telling me stories when I got in trouble. How lucky I was that I wasn't being beaten. Having cigarettes put out on my arms.

I remember being told how his parents had never cared. How they had made him cook for his siblings, bought him the wrong color bike because they could. How he was never macho enough for them, and I should count myself lucky because he wasn't putting the same kind of gender stereotyping on me.

I remember defending him to the death to people I thought didn't get it.

I remember being raped by a man who told me it was okay when I was too young to know better. Who shoved his cock in me and listened to me cry and who threatened to kill me if I told.

I remember my parents breaking up because my dad wanted to be a girl.

I remember hitting myself in the head and legs, whenever I would screw up.

I rememebr skinning my knees on the playground and hiding in corners to try to escape my uniqueness.

I remember wishing I was blonde and vapid.

I remember crying when my dad threatened to have my brother committed.

I remember dying my hair green to give people a reason to mock me that didn't involve my brain.

I remember wishing Declan would look up from his trumpet and notice me.

I remember things being thrown and raised voices.

I remember being told I was "our" only hope.

I remember being forced to call imposters mom and dad.

I remember a man who should have been smart enough to know better taking my "virginity".

I remember him telling his friends I was easy. And him calling me a money grubbing high maintenence bitch.

I remember wondering what it would be like to be hit by a car and thinking no one would miss me.

I remember Randy and Phyllis.

I remember Jermone dying of AIDS and my father holding it over my head. "Be a good little girl or this will happen to you too."

I remember a step father "in love" with my obese mother who told me I was too fat, and nothing compared to his Jessica.

I remember counting the days until I was old enough to escape.

I remember the sounds opf sex and BDSM under my bedroom.

I remember being told that my pain wasn't enough for anyone to defend me.

I remember when we lit the spoon on fire and when I let him take the fall because I couldn't handle one more leather belt story.

The story was worse than being beaten would have been.

I remember falling asleep next to him on the waterbed.

I remember teaching him to steal.

I remember wishing we weren't related.

I remember stealing food from the other housemates because our dad wasn't feeding us.

I remember living with no water, no power, because there was "no money" for the bills.

I remember living in filth because he was too "tired" to clean. I stripped four inches of old newspaper moldy and rotting from the floor.

I remembering living in a building that had rats and roaches. I remember bleaching dishes that were covered in maggots because he wouldn't.

I remember looking forward to everything that got me out of the house.

I remember old and stale bread.

I remember being told I wasn't good enough to love.

I remember being told I should have been an abortion.

I remember all the times I thought I looked good, and all the times I got told it wasn't the case.

I remember cutting class to get away from all of the people my age who I hated.

I remember being told that I wasn't girly enough.

I remember being told that being in Vietnam was so bad he couldn't even talk about it, but that I should be greatful he didn't put me through an experience like that to prove my worth.

I remember waking up alone and greatful because I was still able to ignore the pain long enough to find someone else's pain to fall into.

I remember trusting someone who welcomed me into their home.

I remember being fucked over.

I remember being used to make sure the phone or the electricity didn't get shut off, for what I was worth, not even for who I was.

I remember having to explain my whereabouts...every day.

I remember her being jealous of who I was with.

I remember wondering if suicide was really a viable option.

This is my past. This is part of who I am. This is a big part of who I am. If you don't like it, don't believe it, or don't care, that's your right.

But this is me.

Her body so brave and so free...

2003-02-24T22:03:38Z

I am beautiful. tinsoldier says so. sithrose says so. diabhol and random_vamp say so. brownshill tells me to get out of my own head and look through others' eyes for a more accurate look at myself when I am lost as to what they all see.

tenaveran gave me one of the best looks at myself that I've gotten in a while. A look that combats the drama and the anger, the insecurity, the lack of ability to understand myself.

Every once in a while it is nice to just be appreciated for what I am. Not for who, although many think that is a part of my beauty. But once in a while, it is nice to just be a shining star in an empty night sky.

Sorry this is so shallow, but...sometimes I just want to be loved.

gothcrumpet @ 2003-02-19T01:26:00

2003-02-19T09:26:10Z

Because even I care about your opinions.

Are 10,000 ex friends right?