Focus.
Focus.
Focus.

I am at the end of an almost straight A semester. Back into volunteering, I'm the lead volunteer assisting teaching a yoga class for children in an emergency domestic violence shelter. I have resigned from Old Navy in order to end the semester strong. I still work ChaCha at night so still have two jobs technically. Things have finally turned around with Lance and I in a way I never expected. I miss my friend Chester.

(I can disappear any time I want to, time I feel you)

this song is more painful when you sing it acoustic to me,
I close my eyes and fragments of memories flash
a warm blanket of former lovers, smiling
the future was always bleak
but we kept believing silly lies

my appetite shrinks but I still need
something, I'm thirsty for more
attention, affection, misguided directions
for too long this street has been a one-way road
and the further I go down it alone
the more I look for any exits
or places where I can turn around

a manageable murphy's law life,
how long can I hide from these black clouds?
morphine melts them like water on cotton candy
the opiate haze I daydream of as I watch
your lips move but the sound is on mute.

the smile of the cheshire cat
peers at me from my small corkboard
pictures of beautiful women and men
that are too far out of my reach
words that penetrate
the stomach pangs of desire

delicately placed here
folded napkins and sparkling glass
writing letters to murderers
and painting pretty portraits
of the semantics of this life
waiting for a lullaby
a night of dreamless sleep
only broken by my natural urge
to open my eyes

but three days of 5am wake-up calls
from people I never wanted to know
the twisted tables of the past
have turned on me,
and the boys all lick their lips at me
ready for revenge
so the choice becomes a dose of fact
with a side of pretend
or just the plain, cold truth?
you decide.

this is a little frustrating.
alright, so I know someone from Arizona searched for my name plus Xanga. that's pretty shitty.
so do me a fucking favor and come forward, before I block everyone from my site.
I think its really fucking lame to search for someone's private journal.
regardless I've had this shit for years. I'm a xanga lifetime member.. all this will do will make me aware of what I need to delete on my site.
Remember folks, my writing is copywritten.

dear life,

no matter what you throw at me, I'm gonna keep going.

I fucking hate my relationship but hey, I've hated it for so many years now its normal.

wow.
that's sad.

ehhh.

Smoke and mirrors and everything nice
I wasn’t married to the weekend, I was banging’ on the back end
Kamikaze and Miami Vice
She shook a few of my favorite things
Like cloak and dagger, see Seabury Quinn
I couldn’t keep it all together, I was spooking in the end zone
Arigato, go-go gadget arm
She only took me for 10,000 yen

It’s like a bad dream, something from the back of a magazine
Black and white and cheaply put together
Like a slasher film
I’m torn in opposite directions
The plot sucks but the killings are gorgeous

God damn these killings are gorgeous

Darkened corners at every bend
I wasn’t sucking down the poison; I was working on the QT
Shaky shaky, all over the world, she tried a cartwheel at every turn
The creepy crawlies, a case of the bends,
I had the martyrs that I bartered from the barons for the bandoleers
Karaoke, a feminine flaw, I had a feeling this was not the end

It’s like a bad dream, something from the back of a magazine
Black and white and cheaply put together
Like a slasher film
I’m torn in opposite directions
The plot sucks but the killings are gorgeous

And like a nightmare, covering the tracks that had brought you there
Paranoid and frozen in the heavens
Like a slasher film
I’m torn in opposite directions
The plot sucks but the killings are gorgeous

Cave in cave out
Nothing but nervous doubt
Waiting for the big bang to get me
[x2]
Waiting for the big bang

Wrapped in plastic, we all get the ends
She had to take it to the majors couldn’t keep it on the down low
Silly rabbit, you’ll dream till the end
Another stiff at the scene of the crime

It’s like a bad dream, something from the back of a magazine
Black and white and cheaply put together
Like a slasher film
I’m torn in opposite directions
The plot sucks but the killings are gorgeous

And like a nightmare, covering the tracks that had brought you there
Paranoid and frozen in the heavens
Like a slasher film
I’m torn in opposite directions
The plot sucks but the killings are gorgeous

God damn these killings are gorgeous

<3 MCS again
you're fucked, Xanga
getting my favorite mcs songs via Jango.
better than pandora, believe it or not

There's a stain, there's a stain, there's a stain on the floor
I wanna soak, wanna scrub, wanna clean (anymore?)
But all the nurses are refusing to let me out of bed
And my eyes are pouring nightly

There's a crowd, there's a crowd, there's a crowd on my ward
I'm full of joy, full of glee, jubilation and more
These crazy stupid mother fuckers never leave me alone
And my lungs are wheezing slightly

There's a buzz, there's a buzz, there's a buzzing of bugs
From flower beetles, yellow jackets, silverfishes to slugs
It's always raining caterpillars from the circular fan
And my heart is pounding brightly

I swim in pharmaceuticals
I swim in pharmaceuticals
The medicine deactivates the things I take
I swim in pharmaceuticals
I swim in pharmaceuticals
The medicine deactivates the things I take

There's a voice, there's a voice, there's a voice in my head
It's rather soothing and it tells me I'd be better off dead
But if I beat maybe punch it even kick it away
Then everything will be (all rightly?)

I swim in pharmaceuticals
I swim in pharmaceuticals
The medicine deactivates the things I take
I swim in pharmaceuticals
I swim in pharmaceuticals
The medicine deactivates

I didn't know it was hot in the middle
I touched it once then I touched it a second time
'Cause I am that naive
A myriad of bright ideas
I didn't know I'd get caught in the middle
I touched it once and I touched it a second time
'Cause I am that naive
A myriad of bright ideas

I swim in pharmaceuticals
I swim in pharmaceuticals
The medicine deactivates the things I take
I swim in pharmaceuticals
I swim in pharmaceuticals
The medicine deactivates

I didn't know it was hot in the middle
I touched it once then I touched it a second time
'Cause I am that naive
A myriad of bright ideas
I didn't know I'd get caught in the middle
I touched it once then I touched it a second time
'Cause I am that naive
A myriad of bright ideas

<3 MCS

like Syvlia
right now all I crave is blackness, blackness
its an eternity before my mother calls me
to carry the heavy load up the stairs
so I can shrink beneath my blanket
and finally let sleep take over
there is no comfort for me
no love, no nothing.

I'm here for your sister
She frightens many, but not me.
Her ailments are no stranger
than the battle wounds of silly teenage years
New York City nights and train rides
with broken bums and bag ladies,
rich kids with designer jeans,
it's all the same to me, really:
people born into things without a choice.

When I knock, knock, knock
on the apartment door
I'm hoping your little fingers are
on the other side, turning the knob
so I can pick you up high in the air
and remind you how special you are
even though we're always here
solely for your sister.

your little voice saying, "hold me"
or explaining that you are just four,
telling doctors and nurses and people
that your sister is ten
and when you alone go
on every outing with mom,
you pick something out large or small
something to bring home to your sister
though she punches and kicks and bruises
your tiny body, still filled with hope.

when you ask me for help
my heart leaps to say yes,
to hug the little girl I used to be
so curious about the world
but you've learned threats
and broken promises
faster than any child should

I'm there for your sister,
her "provider", "aide"
caregiver, companion
but in my heart of hearts all I want
is to take you out for a day
of princess dresses and merry-go-rounds
a day when you can forget
the pain at home
and when I whispered about that day
after your sister had gone to sleep
all you could ask me was,
"Can my sister come too?"

the author of "Chinese Take-out" and "The Fuck-up" emailed me back and added me on facebook
when I posted in my status that one of my favorite authors emailed me and a friend doubted me, the author himself, Arthur Nersesian, commented back.
life is awesome sometimes.

I finished reading "Chinese Takeout". There were parts of the story I really enjoyed. Afterwards I thought to myself, "Now, I've got to read The Fuck-up" so I returned a dress I really would never wear but bought because it was on sale, and purchased the book with the money from the return. It has such a similar theme I don't really like it at all. "Chinese Takeout" was his second novel, I believe, which has much more grit.

Mentoring has become something I dread. Only 2 boys show up now and I really hate bothering. I'm going to be observed next week and I don't even know where my project manuals are. I'm fighting with my mother, as usual, simply because Spring Break is over and I have to get back to the piles of school work. She thinks because I'm home that I have nothing to do. Nothing's really new.

Lance came for my birthday. It was a magical weekend. He is a very different person and its hard to believe sometimes. I'm not enjoying the distance thing all the time, but times like these I am.

I've been feeling cynical and watching Daria.

My new reading (kind of my mistress while I'm in a relationship with the book, The Fuck-up) is "Burning in Water, Drowning in Flame" by Bukowski.

Sometimes I'll feel that ache in the pit of my stomach that thrusts my heart in the direction of the ocean. That last bridge wasn't really burned, but instead it was like one of those fragile rope bridges with wooden planks. One by one I pulled out the planks until there was no way to get across that would be completely safe.

I got my rockband drums/mic back from my former God-Parents and got Rockband the original game for PS2. I also learned how to hook the drums up to my mac and borrowed, "Drums for Dummies" from the library in Scottsdale.

Music has drifted into Placebo and other kinds of music that are less up beat.
I guess I'm putting my nose to the grind just to pass the time.