one second closer to death

So, I left for DC on a whim. I wanted to get out of Evansville, I wanted the community that protesting offered, and I wanted to get away from him. I also wanted excellent vegan good.



I got all of that.



I am trying to work on a prose poem about the protest but everything I write comes out wrong. I'm going to try again tonight, but I might have to turn in something else I wrote instead that is total shit.



As for the protest- DC is 12 hours away; it is a fucking long drive. On the way home we got stuck in a snow storm in the mountains of West Virginia. Going 40 in a 65, all we could see was snow. M and C are in front singing hymns and I'm looking at this surreal scene, listening to them harmonize and I was pretty sure death was upon us.



We marched with Code Pink, but I am also extremely interested in the boys from the Young Communist league, the socialist workers, and the black block. The black block attracted the police. Don't talk to the police.



As of right now:



I need to get caught up in school

I love Ani

I am involved in TOO MANY activities

I need to make time for people.

I love coffee

I am cutting down on sugar

I am NOT pretentious for talking about vegan/organic food. Do I think I'm better than anyone who is not vegan? Absolutely not- it's a personal choice, some people are not interested in that. Do I think I'm pretty awesome for busting my ass in a shit ass town to do that? Do I think it's better for the animals, the environment, the world, the economy, my heath, my wellbeing? Do I think informing people is important? FUCKING YES- so bite me.

Last night I had the best time sleeping with my cats, then are little bodies of love

I miss him and hate him. But I don't really think about it much.

I had a dream I owned a camel the size of a dog. It was awesome.

Get up in the morning got a -different voice. Get up in the morning, in the morning, in the morning.

Just so you know, I was singing that.

Its 7:30 and I'm getting ready to make some coffee. I am a bad coffee drinker. Also, it's one of the last things I switched to organic. I just did in fact. I usually use soy milk and three table spoons of sugar....because sugar is a little vice I have with coffee...and vegan cupcakes. BUT! I have just drastically reduced my sugar intake to an f'in tea spoon - that's right bitches.
I just tried to spell sugar with an E- that's pretty good.

Oh and-
I DIDN'T HAVE THE DREAM LAST NIGHT!

Instead, I was a super model running from the cops!
Stressful, but better.

For the past 10 days I have the same dream every fucking night.
Please stop.
Everything would be fine if the dreams would stop.
So stop.

I was slicing organic lettuce for my vegan tacos tonight and I cut my finger off. Not really, but It hurts anyway. In fact, every time I type a F, it hurts. FFFFuck.
to fix this I have placed my little fox finger puppet over the cut. It is working well. Fox, Fixed, the Finger.

Um, oh my god I am funny.

I love snow
and I love to masturbate.

End of story.

In case anyone is interested I went to the grocery this weekend.

I made a Vegan enchilada bake with cheese sauce, TVP (morning star), corn tortillas, green chilies, pinto beans with scallions and flour, and enchilada sauce. Then, after it baked for about an hour I put a bag of Fritos on top and it was FUCKING DELISIOUS!
Amanda and I are still eating it.

I have also discovered organic oatmeal which I have been eating with soymilk, a few vegan chocolate chips, and some brown sugar.

Last night at like 10:30 I decided to make some dill pickle chip dip with silken tofu, dried dill, apple cider vinegar, pure maple syrup, salt, pepper, and 3 cut up dill pickles. You put all that in the blender and it tastes like love on a chip.

I think I'm going to cook something today too so I will have something to eat during my busy school week.

I know, this was riveting.

So, happy New Year.
I just finished the book "Obasan" by Joy Kogawa, a Canadian writer who is also Japanese. The story is basically about the lives of a Japanese family during Word War II in Canada. The entire book is poetically written and beautifully tragic.

This brings me to my point:
So many Americans look down on our country because of its unjust history to just about every nationality: African Americans, Japanese Americans, Hispanic Americans, Arabic Americans...fuck, any American we have pretty much fucked over at one point or another. Hell, we fuck over not just Americans, but people in other countries who have nothing to do with us. Pretty much, we are ready to screw you over.

But that’s the thing. So is every country. We are so ready to flee to the safe liberal Canadian wilderness to live out our lives in equal love and complete trust of our government. Bullshit. Just as an example (for the sake of the book I just finished), the Japanese citizens of Canada were treated horribly. Only years later, still with no restitution to those citizens it mistreated, can they admit this. The took all their land, their homes, belongings, and shoved them as fare away from the cost as possible in places much like concentration camps but with different names. There, their families suffered, died, and never recovered.

Excerpt from the memorandum sent by the Co-operative Committee on Japanese Canadians to the House and the Senate of Canada, April 1946

The Orders-in-Council are based upon racial discrimination. Deportation on racial grounds has been defined as a crime against humanity, and the war criminals of Germany and Japan are being tired for precisely this offense, amongst others...The Orders are directly in contradiction of the Language and spirit of the United Nations Charter, subscribed to by Canada as well as the other nations of the world, and are an adoption of the methods of Naziism.

What I am trying to say is (I know, I get long winded and wordy), that America is not that fucking bad. This is not to say that I wouldn’t mosey on over to old Canada and their Maple leaf if I had the means- I would. At least there I could get married to a lady and then go smoke a joint on my honeymoon. There, my brother wouldn’t have been able to legally buy a firearm as a felon, maybe he wouldn’t be dead.

I have my beef with America, don’t misunderstand me. But in general, I’m glad I live here. I have a lot more freedom here than I would in other places. For some reason I have a problem calling myself an American. I feel dirty, like I have blood on my hands or something.

But then I realized- It’s not calling myself an American I really have a problem with- It’s calling myself human. We are an awful species, capable of the worst fucking things. Self- Interest will be the down fall of civilization everywhere.

Exit stage right.

Currently Reading:

This is what I am interested in:



1. Always listing.

2. My new blue dresser that is fantastic!

3. Cuddling with you.

4. Making Vegan tacos

5. Reading the news.

6. Cats.



Things I am excited about:



1. Getting a new black bra from Victoria Secret

2. Wearing different underwear.

3. Eating a big vegan dinner tomorrow.

4. Writing

5. Giving people their presents.



Things I am NOT excited about:



1. Driving to my grandpas so he can say homosexuals are not human. Then having admiring the framed picture of George Bush on his mantle. Also, opening his gift that will be the exact same coat and hat he gives me every year. Awesome.

2. Taking a shower because it is cold.

3. Community service so I don't go to jail.

4. Dragon Jesus

5. Amanda leaving.



Some thing you maybe didn't know about me.



1. I never have white socks because I don't use bleach and I walk around outside. I don't care.

2. I care about what I do, not "who I am".

3. I love to cuddle and read. It is the best thing ever. If anyone is interested let me know.

4. I have an unhealthy relationship with my cats.

5. I am legally blind in one eye.

By the time you swear you're his,
shivering and sighing,
and he vows his passion is,
Infinite
undying-
Lady, make note of this:
one
of you is
Lying.

- Dorothy Parker "Unfortunate Coincidence" (1927)


Currently reading:

I am attempting a subconscious effort to consciously back up
because I am getting to close.
too close.

Sunday I was so hung over I woke up in the morning on Kyle’s floor curling around his trash can.
I had to puke for at least an hour before I could make it home.
Then I got into the bath and passed out for I don’t know how long.
I woke up to lukewarm water.
threw up some more.
finally got into bed
threw up some more.
Woke up around four and still felt sick, but good enough to move around so I ate a little something.
Good job Brittney, that solved a lot.
You’re awesome.
Really.

Anyway.
I have a really bad habit of making someone else’s life more important than mine.
I do this for several reasons:
1. I think if I am nice enough I can get anything I want (not true).
2. I like making people happy.
3. I can’t fix my own life so I try to fix other peoples.
4. I don’t like to deal with anything internal.

I am going to be happy.
I swear.
I am going to start making the right choices.
I am not going to be lazy.
I am going to make decisions for myself and not someone else.
I am going to clean more.
I am going to read/write/think more.
I am going to call all the boys I have been a total bitch to by giving them my number and then not answering the phone and I am going to tell them I am sorry but it is not a good time for me but thank for you being interested because I am flattered.
I am going to stop stumbling.

I just called to get more birth control.
Why the fuck to they make me call every month?
That is a pain in the ass.

I just called to get an appointment with the dentist.
I need to get my teeth cleaned.
But not only that, I guess I am going to take out a loan to get braces because I am sick of fucking hating my face. I am sick of ALWAYS covering my mouth.
I am going to look even more stupid with braches for the next few years, but oh fucking well. Maybe no one will want to date me so I can finally be left the fuck alone.

I am feeling really fucking crazy right now and it need to fix it.
as in
right now.

I am such a conspiracy theorist.
I am always convinced I am being lied to.
Maybe because I usually am.
I am letting it go.
like everything.
letting it go.

Goals in life.

As of

right now.

1. Learn about French feminism

2. Write everyday

3. Stopping telling people things that I know are not true just because I can get away with it.

4. Get an A on my next Art History test. (I got a 96 on the last one- because I am awesome. FOR SERIOUS!)

5. Trust.

6. Stop being jealous.

7. Do not destroy the happy.

8. Eat a good vegan pizza (including vegan cheese).

9. Meditate like I used to.

10. Ohm.

11. Shave.

12. Pet the cat. Done and done.

13. Never smoke a clove again.

14. Stop putting everything in my life on a list. Because:

A. It's a bad attempt and putting the chaos into order.

B. It is annoying people

C. It makes you seem strange in conversation.

D. Shit.

15. Find tupac and marry him (we will get matching 'thug life' tattoos)

16. Play violin.

17. Make vegan tacos.

18. Kiss him.

19. Bring back the Barbarian lifestyle and build a church with a giant wood dragon head.

20. Love.

Bad day.
I woke up this morning crying.
Another dream where I can't save him. Different story, always the same outcome. He is bleeding from his stomach- someone has shot him. My hands are pressed tightly to his wound, but blood covers my knuckles. He looks up at me and I tell him I will help, that he will be okay.
He is not okay.
He is dead.
I try to get caught up in class, but I have to skip Spanish- again. The one class I really shouldn't.
I am hell bent on destroying anything positive in my life. I make up all these reasons that the positive is secretly negative and I just haven't been told yet. I just don't have all the information. Only a matter of time.
Today, I was driving to my moms and fantasized about being in a relationship with someone who beat me. So I could be strong enough to leave- or not.
Isn't that lovely.
I voted. You should have. Even if it doesn't matter- It's worth trying. All I can do is try.
Try.
I hate going home. I hate spending time there- it warps everything when I finally leave. I can't breath. I can't look at my mom without seeing her drunk. She ALWAYS smells like beer. Nothing she does rids herself of the smell.
I am bitching again. But it was just one of those days that I can't get things straight. Nothing makes sense. It feels like I am submerged underwater and sound is distant and distorted. I can't hear anything except my own boring complaining.
ew.
I am going to eat a sandwich now.


Currently Reading:

Fucking hell.
Nothing works out.
I have been so angry lately, and I'm never anger.
The other night, I was so upset and pissed off I lost it. I grabbed everything I owned and just started throwing it out in the hall. Everything. The green pillows, My grandma cardigans, A half empty bottle of Cherry Coke, Shoes, A brown Candle, A blue candle holder, My trash can full of trash,
Then I, on top of all my stupid worthless shit that means fucking nothing. I was screaming and crying and my roommate comes out into the hall and takes one look and turns right back around.
Good call Amanda...good call.
There is no pattern to anything. We are all a mass of cells and oxygen that mean nothing. There is fucking nothing to look forward to so get over it.
I have really stressed myself out with school. I was doing so well, and then everything fell apart.
Why can't I be a functioning member of society. I'm so fucking good at lying to myself I don't even know what I'm upset about. I'm serious. I have no idea.
I am sick.
BUT!
Some good things in my life:
1. Books.
2. I met this guy who is a fucking excellent kisser and I am impressed. Because no one really turns me on (guys or girls- 90% of the time I'm doing sexual things because I crave the closeness, not the sex.)
3. My roommate is my own personal Jesus Christ, because without her where would I be?
4. I have Chinese food in the kitchen that I can eat anytime.
5. I have a 23 pound cat that spoons.
Exit stage left.



Currently Reading:

You know I really love the seasons,

the spring and fall

of your chest

above mine.

1. I had crazy dreams last night. One of them included getting a C on my Can. Lit. Midterm.

2. FUCKING GOD DAMN Maddie threw up ALL over the bathroom while Amanda and I were at the reading and now it smells so fucking bad I want to shoot myself in the fucking ass face.

3. I hate everything.

4. I have a paper I still have to write and I only have a page done.

5. I have NO money. And although I will most likely go to the bar tonight, someone is going to have to buy me drinks becuase I'm getting fucking drunk.

And so this was what made the world go 'round: this was why the man, the woman, two enemies, called a truce to their ancient war; why the night air could turn so soft, and the illusion of a path reserved for these two people seemed to open up before them. And this was why your heart gave you no rest! She forgot the moments of frenzy, the suspended moments of her happiness, and saw nothing but the trap that had been set for her weakness; and this trap appeared to her coarse and brutal, and she felt, stronger than fear itself, an unspeakable contempt for her fate as a woman, and self-hatred that left her amazed.

-From "The Tin Flute"

You keep buying things, but you don't need them
But as long as you're comfortable it feels like freedom.

-Billy Bragg

It's been a bad day. It's only one, but I've been up since seven.

Nothing sounds good.

I brought Chris new flowers for the headstone (not that he would ever fucking care in real life). Does it ever get easier? I feel like I've accepted the death of my dad, but not Chris, not him, - never him.

If anything, it just gets worse as the years pull me further away from him. Most days I'm secretly seized with grief. And I feel silly because it was six years ago.

I just keep thinking, Chris, if you had only lived a few years longer, I could have saved you, I could have saved you. I could have made sure you were safe. I was so young, still trying to take care of myself. I hardly knew him as a person because of what he did to me.

But god I love him.

I feel so weak for being scared of my inevitable future. I just don't want to be one of those people sitting in a Denny's on Christmas Eve by themselves. I don't want to be one of those people their friends invite over for pity, and they all whisper to their existent family how tragic I am.

I want to disappear.

I don't want anything to ever hold the ability to hurt me.

I know, I could marry or something, or have a big family through my partner, but I really don't see that happening to me.

I am lucky. I am lucky. I am lucky.

I know.

I know.

Currently Reading:

So I went to Denise's last show at Penny lane on Saturday. One of her friends from Bloomington came to down watch her. She was sort of short with even shorter hair and tattoos and ridiculously cute and dykie. Being the friendly person that I am, I asked her to sit with us. Now, I wasn't interested in dating her or anything, but sitting there talking with Denise and her friend made me have a sort of sexual epiphany if that makes sense.

I really fucking love girls. LOVE THEM.

But, that's not to say I don't like boys,

But girls have something they never will. They have a beauty that no boy will ever have. Boys don't turn me on the way girls do.

I understand girls. They don't fuck with you, they don't play head games- well they do, but I'm so fucking good at reading them it doesn't bother be. I'm always on top.

I don't want to be with anyone, but I can't wait to leave this city and find the Varity of girl I want to be with. I want to find that connection with a girl that I have found with boys lately.....That's what I want.

Because I'm not sure if this boy thing is going to work out.

I like sleeping next to a boy better.

I like sex with girls better- only because I feel so much more involved, and it feels so emotional, maybe that's for other reasons...too soon to tell.

I like kissing girls and boys.....Something I never thought I would like, but I love it when a guy has stubble and when he kisses you your lips and neck and face burn- I LOVE THAT.

I love a girl's chest, because I love the sensual aspect of breasts and they are just another sexual tool to work with.

I love a guys chest because I can feel the bones through their skin and its flat and you can run your hand across their chest, and their beneath the rattle of bones is the closeness of their heart.

I like holding hands with girls better,

But I like boy's hands more.

Just some thoughts on the mechanics of sex.

I went to rocky horror on Friday. It was fantastic. I forgot what community felt like. You know, the sort of place where no one knows each other, but you're all automatically friends and treat each other as such. I did not dress up, but I have always felt comfortable around men and women in drag. By the end on the night I was wind blown and knee deep in toilet paper. The hood of my hoodie was full of rice and confetti and I had screamed "ass hole" and "slut" about 30 times.

I went to the Moonlight Heist show on Saturday and watched this girl play violin on stage. I have always loved the violin and now I am dead fucking set on playing it. I don't really need anymore shit besides my lust for books, but I know my mom will get me something for the holiday season and now it will be violin lessons. I played clarinet for nine years, I'm good at reading sheet music, and I'm so exited. Most of the show was spent drinking hot Chai and laying on the couch with Kyle. I do love the Kyle, especially since I don't see him much. We used to spend every day together, and he would stay the night several times a week, but times pushes on doesn't it.

Sunday was the walk for farm Animals and although I was counting on a few friends to show up, who didn't and I'm rather pissed, it was a great turn out. The best we have had in fact. We had 30 walkers. We were certainly the motley crew. Some people were 18, other where in their 60's. We raised almost 1,000 dollars and I got so exited I almost started crying. I am so used to protesting at KFC when it's just Jamie, Me, and Maurice. We rocked it like a mild thunderstorm just so you know. And all the money goes to Farm Sanctuary, who unlike PETA, I love and respect and support 100 perfect.

It was a good weekend.

Now, I'm off to read "Fifth Business" and eat Organic seasoned waffle fries with Vegan Cheese dip.



Currently Reading:

The Pyramids of the early Kingdom in Egypt were with their corners perfectly aligned to North, South, East, and West. Perfect.

Their tips were aligned with the stars in the constellation Orion.

This is the meaning im looking for. Why am I always trying to connect the dots? Why do I keep trying to put meaning to the mundane?

I say, here look, see this? This is connected to me; this is my message to keep moving. And this? This is a sign of significance. This book, this rock, this tree, this car ride at sunset....all connected in some beautiful intricate pattern that I can map out on my own skin.

How else can we keep going? I have to relay on the slow process and formation of that which will eventually make sense. If not, then what?

What is there? I have so much trouble connecting with anything human. Or if I do, it's somehow my personal downfall.

I was thinking about what you wrote to me. You're right. If you really care about someone, then you don't need anything in return. Even if you haven given your entire self.

I don't, I expect nothing.

Where am I going if I am not meant for anything? I have to assume there is some sort of system in the shift of chaos and order. Their has to be a path that we each walk.

I was thinking, and we are all right. We are all doing exactly what we should be doing. This sentence, you over there by the bookcase, you in your room listening to Paula Cole, You in the midst of losing the person you love, this is all that could be happening, because it is. There is no past, no future.

Only this very action, Only this thought