happy with flames licking upwards, scorching tongues searching for more. But over and over again I am left with grit, ashes. Scalding pain that lasts long after fickle flames, blisters that leave their marks under my skin long after healing, all reminders of a phantom, a feeling I might have given myself over to, once. When I think about it, I realize I may never see this from you. So I don’t. I slick on the veneer, two coats of mascara for the eyelashes I bury into eyes clenched shut, extra gloss for my brain, filling in the senseless myriad folds until it’s just a shape– slick, maleable, and oh so shiny.  End of copied writing, same entry. I was feeling sort of crabby and cynical. (And truthful.)

New entry.

I read White Oleander and it was crazy pretty. Under that I drew, with the same black ball point, two very large eyes, looking upwards. I then added heavy lashes, dark eyeshadow, and lots of shadows found naturally around the eyes in dramatic lighting. Then I shaded the irises blue with a blue ball point. I wrote my next sentence around the eyes, a couple words on the left a few in between, a few more on the right. I’ve been writing lately. Working on an idea I got in April. Unfortunately, the very first paper I started planning it on is unfindable. Chess AND Chadder Cheese (the Destructo Twins) decided to thumb through my Mythology book, keeper of pages of character descriptions and plotlines. Okay, when I say Mythology, I don’t mean Greek or Roman. I mean the huge (seriously, Atlas sized) book of Alex Ross’s work for DC Comics. Alex Ross is incredible; his art looks like photgraphs. He’s absolutely mind-blowing. I worship him. And because I’m very secretive about my writing, I would always hide sheets of notebook paper where I had written down character descriptions, plotlines, and story ideas in between the pages of this book. Anyway! I’m doing this story different than my first (in many years). The first was for Quizilla expressly, broken into 20 parts, divided fair and equal, planned. I churned them out fairly quickly– I was impatient, chomping at the bit to set up for new developments and twists. It was one big brain fart, and I had to squeeze it out before the moment passed. Um, every time I read that line, I laugh my ass off. No matter how old I get, farting is funny. This one is a lot vaguer in my mind, not so rigid. It happens as it happens, sometimes flowing easily, others needing urging. I hope I finish it. I just itch to draw or write. To create something good. Something dark and pretty. Something darker has come out in me. A desire for dark eye makeup and darker things. A need to draw Victorian goths, or pretty sexy tortured souls. Here I drew a half open eye, viewed from the side. The iris is light, but the mascara and shadow are dark, and heavy lashes veil the eyes in apparent sadness. Long dark hair, eyes with fathomless depths, slender oval nails painted dark. Sleep is for pussies.

Next page, new entry, blue ball point pen instead of black! I must have been completely unable to find a black pen.

Stuff has not been good lately. Lucifer has been really off. First it was always because of his anxiety. Now it’s because he went to jail & can’t get a job and owes a lot of money & works for his dad and feels like “being alone” AND BLAH FUCKING BLAH. EXCUSES RUNNING OU MY AS FROM ALL THE BULLSHIT I’VE SWALLOWED! Honestly, now that I’m writing… I don’t even think he wants to be with me. He’s always crappy. Anxious, pissy, irritted, negative, bitchy, whiney. Doesn’t want to stay long. Doesn’t want to see me. FUCK, his only issue right now is that I DIDN’T TALK DIRTY ON COMMAND OR WANT TO 69 AND HE COULDN’T MAINTAIN AN ERECTION OR GET OFF. ALL HE FUCKING SAID AS I LAY FACING AWAY AND CRYING WAS “I WANT YOUR BODY.” “I JUST WANT TO BONE YOU.” FUCKING FUCK HIM. He wants me to fucking talk to him AND I HAVE BEEN. I’VE BEEN FUCKING TELLING HIM IT DOESN’T FEEL RIGHT, THAT I DON’T FEEL CLOSE OR CONNECTED TO HIM, BUT NOW I’M SILENT BECAUSE WHAT’S THE FUCKING POINT OF TALKING WHEN IT DOESN’T MAKE A SHIT OF A DIFFERENCE?! Okay, I was angry when I wrote that haha. You should see the page, the words get bigger and BIGGER. I’m not a prude or anything. I love to get creative and try new things in bed, I guess I’m mildly freaky. But when the sex is unfulfilling (he was a premature ejaculator, and sometimes he just couldn’t get a good hard boner… or keep it. Erectile dysfunction, anyone?) and you don’t feel connected at all… it’s hard to want to bother with an effort. Anyway.

Same ranting, calmer demeanor, new entry. Still blue pen though.

 Jesus, it pissed me off ENORMOUSLY when he said that “I just wanna fuck” bullshit. I was livid, but I held my tongue. It’s really frustrating. So now I have some figuring to do because although it doesn’t seem likely, I think.. well, I honestly don’t think, but there are things that suggest he’s cheating. I’m confused. I’m uncomfortable writing it, but it must be considered. Honestly, there’s nothing I can do if he is unless I get proof. He’s always antsy or in a bad mood. Its utterly impossible to enjoy any time spent with him. I don’t feel close to

Continued in next post!

As it turns out, he wasn’t cheating on me… he was being pissy and secretive because he was trying to hide the fact that he was doing drugs. Tada!

her because unlike her, I’m NOT STUPID.

New post, I think same day though. Back then I did a lot a lot of writing and ranting. What can I say?

I just get so mad because Lucifer is being stupid and blind and he won’t listen to the truth in what I say beause of how much I hate her. Next is this Oklahoma thing. Chess and Toby oughta be broken up for good… he went psycho and started stalking her & kidnapped her. She wants to move to Oklahoma to get away from Toby & take care of her dad. She wants me to go with her. I wasn’t even really considering it until I started talking to Lucifer about it. Then I realized we could get a fresh start. It would remove all the undersirables (people & situations) from our fragile relationship. No Stephanie or Colleen or Tim. No mommy and no daddy. None of the other stupid druggie loser fuckers. None of the same old shit that I’m SO FUCKING TIRED OF. No name of my town here cops, either. Sorry, I had to edit. I haven’t thought of an alternate name for my town! But the cops here are AWFUL. They bend or break the laws so they can fuck with you, and they pick out certain people and just HARASS them, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Honestly, it just plain sucks. I don’t do drugs, and I never got into trouble, but they liked to follow or very lightly harass me because a) my cousins are criminals and druggies and b) my boyfriend was a druggie and an idiot. I guess it makes sense, but I don’t do drugs! Anyway. New Year’s Eve and today’s New Year’s Day have sucked. This is New Year’s 2008!  Lucifer won’t even consider moving though. He’s so into this fucking band. I guess I understand and I am happy for him but FUCK. I lose my best friend if he keeps his band. I t just really pissed me off because he wouldn’t even conider. We could escape the bullshit and get a much cleaner start. He says he feels like we’re starting at square one. I DON’T. I feel like I’m picking up where I left off, & I’m waiting for the crash and burn part I know so well. I’ve tried discussing both things with him but I can’t. He won’t hear me; I accomplish nothing. And I’m fine now writing this (ish) but talking about it & hitting brick wall gets my emotions to the surface and frustrates me and PISSES ME OFF so bad, it reminds me of boiling water. Or lava. Or some bubbling, corrosive liquid that destroys what it touches INSTANTLY. Rawr. I can’t deal with it! Blah.

Next page, new entry.

I started a note to Lucifer, but it changed. I’ll copy it because I have a journal for this purpose & I’m not going to waste my thoughts on a spiral. You may have noticed here and there… I enjoy writing. I love analogies and metaphors and writing in prose. Anyway, here’s what I wrote:

So, Lucifer… I’m chillin’, smelling my coconut lip gloss and wondering when your ass is going to appear. I’m admiring my glossy claret nails and the way they match the trim on this asset-baring top I put on for you. While I was in the bathroom side-parting my hair and adding texture to the lifeless ends, I scrutinized myself in the tiny mirror under the cruel dim yellow bulb’s light. I was reminded of yesterday, when Chess quite abruptly confessed her lack of understanding for me as I slicked on gloss, dropping phrases like “beat with a newspaper” and “walk home in the freezing cold”. Phrases meant to crack the fragile veneer I gloss over chips, fissures… gaping trenches. I was reminded of a time, at least a month ago when I sat on the same couch I slept on every day and applied my own veneer. Pink concealer to mask the bruise that bordered my eye socket, three kinds of black to make my dead eyes more appealing, a glimmer to liven my unsmiling mouth. I remember all the things I leave unsaid, dirty secrets between you and I, tying us like partners in crime or more accurately, slave to master. I remember my tendency to set up baby obstacles, tiny hindrances agaist travelling backwards, and the wide welcoming bridge back that I (coward) have always refused to sever. I want to be happy. I want to see the world, venture out into the unknown with a portable home. I want a foundation, solid and constant, unquestionable for the life I’d like t build around me. The idyllic life where I am happy and ME the way I am in my head and soul, free and fun and LIVING. Silly girlish ideals, color and passion, hazel-eyed babies. A place that doesn’t tether or stifle me but changes with me, always welcoming. A person I don’t need to battle every day. Someone I could fearlessly throw myself to, without danger. A man who will recieve and reciprocate. I long to give myself over again in one whole piece, teeth and eyes flashing with pure trust, unchecked passion, solid devotion. Any fool can love, even I. It’s too easy to be consumed by the moment,

continued in next post.

My friend didn’t mention the damage to my face that was still very visible at this point in time because I didn’t tell her. That’s also part of what I meant by “dirty secrets between you and I”. I told her a deer ran infront of the car and I faceplanted on the dash. There was still a dark bruise where the bone under my eye was fractured, and a bump. Just clarifying.

Marian and it’s been cool so far. I was at Toby’s for a month amazingly. Lucifer continues to feed me his bullshit. I’d like to believe him, but let’s be realistic. The story is we’re on good terms– just friends- but we fucked (he ate me, thank god. It had been well over a month since my last orgasm.)  Check the disclaimer! I warned you it could get graphic! And it will even more so later on, so don’t act like you don’t know what you’re getting into. and we kiss and cuddle and hand hold and act lovey-dovey. Like I said, I’d love for all he talks about to happen, but I don’t think he will. At least he’s on his meds now. I just really hate how filthy and ghetto everything is here. Their habits are terrible– Katherine leaves shit out everywhere and just drops cough drop wrappers in the middle of the floor– and they have lice. There’s something I REALLY don’t want. At least there’s no cockroaches though. I don’t let them get on my bed though, so hopefully I can avoid that. Bleh.

New entry, black Uniball. You know you love Uniball. It just flooooooows. Yeah, that’s how I roll. Rollerball style. Haha, bad I know. Anyway.

So I read this cool book I believe the book was called “The Sound of Light” or something like that. Really awesome. It takes place in the future. It’s about this group of autists that work for some big company solving serious math problems and stuff. The company develops a treatment that cures autism, and they pressure them into taking it. You read and see everyting from one autists point of view. He wonders how he will change, what parts of him and his behavior he will lose. That’s what sparked this. But really, look that book up. It was stellar. & it made me want to write down things about myself, in case something bad happens and I forget lol. I’m Birdie and I ROCK. I love Metallica. I also like (love) Shinedown, the Gorillaz, Aerosmith, Incubus Don’t forget Foo Fighters!  … I like some Red Hot Chili Peppers. REO Speedwagon is a guilty pleasure, but I can only take a little. I’m VERY picky w/ my music taste. I like spicy things and tangy citrusy things. (Lime Ramen!) I like to bake and cook. I do it creatively instead of exactly. I love colors. Red, green, and purple are faves. I like gold better than silver. I like irises, orchids, tulips, poppies, and amaryllis. I freaking hate roses. So cliche. I hate the sun! I get MAD when it shines in my eyes. Irrational, I know. The sun has to do it’s thing! But it pisses me off when I’m in the car and it won’t get out of my fucking face! Haha. I like garnet and PEARLS. Rubies, too. I hate to have my shoes touch my toes. I chew the insides of my cheeks and lips. When I’m very anxious, nervous or stressed I bite my nails off. 95% of the time I paint my nails red. I like red lipstick. I like video games. I like coconut, pineapple, pina colada, banana, peach, cherry, oranges… LIME. 

Next page.

I like drawing. I got into anime the first couple years of high school and it still has an influence in what I do. I like 40′s and 50′s pinups now. I always draw girls. I love my grandparents’ place in Nocona. I’m a night person. I love the moon. I like to hear cicadas. I don’t do drugs. I do drink though. I like wine, and champagne. I used to drink JD that’s Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Bourbon Whiskey for those uneducated few of you but I got burned out on it. I can drink beer now, but I prefer not to. I like sex with Lucifer. I’ve only had sex w/ 2 people, but we connect well. It’s meaningful, because there’s a strong connection. I like working him over. I like biting and being bitten. I like rough sex and doggie style and some other things I’m not writing down. I love when we would roleplay that he wasn’t my boyfriend, that I was having random sex and didn’t want my boyfriend to find out. (Hot.) I like reading and dumb jokes. For example, here’s a fave of mine: Why does Snoop Dogg carry an ummbrella? Fo Drizzle! That one makes me laugh so hard I cry. If I don’t like someone I don’t pretend.  

New entry! Same pennnnnn. 

So, having some issues right now. I’m pretty pissed off and frustrated at Lucifer. It’s a couple things, big ones. First was FUCKING STEPHNIE. Haha, I was so pissed I forgot to put the “A” in her name. I dislike her because not only does she really really suck as a person, but she’s Lucifer’s ex… and he cheated on me for HER several times. Every time he cheated on me, it was with someone way gross. I don’t get it. Seriously.  I HATE her. She’s a stupid, pathetic, fucked up little piece of shit. Gr. And Lucifer (IDIOT) thinks they’re friends. Maybe in his mind! He SUCKS at making judegements on people, at seeing their tricks, at making the necessary decisions. It’s why he gets SCREWED by his ‘friends’ so often. Anyway. She’s fucking out to wreck our relationsip, to cause problems for us, to get him to return the pathetic feelings she harbors for him and to PISS ME OFF. I try to say to myself “YOU WIN! You always will. You’re way awesomer and you’ve got Lucifer.” but she keeps pissing me off. She’s their little band manager. And Lucifer is so *stupid* susceptible to that shit. I don’t think she can get him to love/fuck her or anything, but she could easily manipulate him like everyone else has. Fortunately she’s too stupid to realize that. Still I’m not underestimating

Continued in next post!

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Frank is the only one married. No kids, aunt Val didn’t want them. Uncle Jerry has kids somewhere, but I haven’t heard of them. My dad’s side… he was born in ’46, no lie. My egg donor was born in ’65. Ew. Anyway, I think he was one of like, 7, but some have died. Uncle Jim died a year or two ago. My uncle Lyle lives in TX, and has 3 kids. 2 girls, one about my age. One boy. Don’t know them well. In IN is my uncle Dan and his wife Mandy (oh yeah, Lyle’s wife is Brenda, she’s nice. I think they split though. Last I checked, he has anger problems. ) or as I call them, uncle Man and aunt Dandy. Their kids are Elisa and Ben. Elisa is Martha’s age, and has red (gorgeous) auburn hair and grey-green eyes. Ben is younger, Nathan’s age. Nathan is the youngest brother of my best friend Ruby. I have a lot of history with her family, her siblings are like mine. Nathan’s 12 and in 6th grade now. Ben is pretty awesome for someone so young. He’s very smart and we got along famously. I love and miss my Elisa! I haven’t seen her since summer before my Sr. year, not long before I turned 17. My bday’s in June, so I graduated at 17 since our school years end in May here. That’s my fam. (Yeah, I’m bored. And lonely. It’s quiet!) Alcoholism runs on both sides of the fam. Closest to me is my grandpa my father’s dad died in the 80′s, my uncle Jerry, and my sperm donor. Uncle Lyle, too, I believe, and uncle Jim was. Alright, FYI I often refer to my parents as my egg or sperm donors, but I was born to them naturally.

New entry!

Lucifer forgot some of my stuff. I texted him on Chess’s phone about what he needed to bring. For some dumb reason I sent him a text on Toby’s phone last night saying “Don’t txt back, but if you wanna hang out some time, drop by. -B” Maybe I’m just bored and lonly being here by myself all the time? I got myself shampoo and conditioner and cough drops and Crystal Light. Typically, by ‘got myself’ I mean ‘stole’. This is the case here. More on the fam thing: My sperm donor has been married 4x. I think my egg donor was 2 or 3. She was the 3rd wife.  He married the first time after high school, and had 2 boys, my half-bros K and C. K is 38, C is about 2 years younger, I think. They’re both military guys. I met K when I lived with my sperm donor. Him and J his wife and heart doodle D heart doodle who was crabby and silent the whole time. We started emailing

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and really got to know each other and he flew me out to Florida for almost 2 weeks. It was like… Dec 28-31 to Jan 5th or 6th of 2006. I met D while I was there and we all hung out for a day. He’s not the emailing type though. K rocks though. D’s his stepson, one of J’s 2 kids from her previous marriage. *NO BLOOD RELATION!* haha. Oh yeah, forgot to detail the very first words of Lucifer’s talk. “Before I say anything, answer me one question. Do you work at Maximus?” It was great. I was sorta shocked and asked “Where are you getting this?” He said for me to answer the question and he’d explain. Apparently Chess told him I was getting a job at Maximus. He drove past it one day and saw my up on their sign, haha. Nice. Who’d wanna see me take my clothes off? Bleh. Just cough drops and a glass of Crystal Light today. Chess brought Chadder Cheese. Apparently Mars said I was gonna live w/ her. I’m actually kinda excited about it. I love Mars! I keep thinking about chillin’ w/ her and showing her how to do makeup… it’ll be fun. And Aunt Marian can help me get a job at the prison (NOT A GUARD!) *mental note: continue education. You’re slipping occasionally on spelling and grammar. Slut.* Kids, that happens to everyone after they’ve been out of school. I’m (not to brag) an intelligent woman that is very strong in spelling, grammar, reading, and writing. It doesn’t matter. You’ll still notice yourself occasionally misspelling a word or using incorrect grammar. And it sucks. So stay in school and further your education! Eenyway. B-O-R-E-D. It gets old being here alone. Sad and lonely and QUIET. Going now! Gr, I left my beloved makeup bag in Chess’s car again. She should be over tomorrow though. Yay! Fun. Woot!

New entry

 
I GOT BUSTED FOR SHOPLITING! I knew it bound to happen someday, lol. Sucks…

New entry

So… Christmas was cool. I got a grand total of $75. $20 to Target (Love!), $25 to Wal-Mart, and $20 from Gma and Gpa and $10 for my bday from Uncle Mike. (My bday is in June, he forgot to give it to me lol) If I can sell my Wal-Mart gift card… new bra for me, baby! My old bras are wearing out. They’re 1 1/2 years old, and the gel is depleted and the cups don’t hold their shape anymore. I moved in with Aunt

Continued in next post! Sorry it took me so damned long to post… Truly. You know how life can be. Forgive me, I’ll try to do better. Commetns always make me happy.

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of Crystal Light. I haven’t eaten yet today and have only taken a couple sips of the same Crystal Light. I’m proud of myself. Food is for pussies! I hope Chess comes over tomorrow. I want to speak to a human. I want to get a hold of Lucifer so I can have my shit and get his whining over with (NO!), maybe go to Wal-Mart of Target and get some clothes or something. I think I’m going to be mad at Chess though. I have a suspicion that she didn’t tell Lucifer I said to come over here, and that she maybe pretended she was me again. God knows what she said… So if that happened I’m going to be angry, and I’m gonna let her know. Sucky thing about not eating– I feel weak, light-headed when I get up. But just a teeny bit. At least I’m not puking up my food. I’ve never been able to make myself puke, and it’s worse for you than just not eating. I think I’m gonna read. I’m bored. Maybe I’ll play a game.

New entry. At this point in life, I was so bored I’d crack open my journal multiple times a day, though I can’t say for sure which ones are same day or different day.

I just took some knock-off NyQuil because a) I’m getting what Chess had and b) I can’t shut my brain off to go to sleep. Lucifer came by today. He did his talking– ”I’m about to get this job, I wanna put you through school, you’re the love of my life” blah blah blah. He says that he had nothing to do with his parents saying I needed to go. What happened was I was about to leave Lucifer, but I needed to find a place to go first. He and his parents didn’t even wait for me to get that far. They just tossed me out before I could get my footing. It’s because previously I had threatened to press charges, and they were in a custody battle for their grand-daughter. I call them vipers because of this, and the fact that his mother and I got to be pretty close. We hung out every night, shopped together… she said she’d be my mom since mine sucks. And then they pulled that. Twisted, eh?

He says he didn’t want to break up, he was looking for me to say something like ‘Please no’ or blah blah. Not “Wish granted.” Um, I was already trying to find a place to go in secret. Then he confronted me about the relationship, saying that we should probably end it or something in hopes that I would beg and start bending over backwards to be a doormat. Instead, like I just said, my response was ‘Wish granted.’ The look on his face was hilarious. Idiot. I told him it’s all empty promises. He disagreed. He’s ridiculous. I can’tget back with him. He doesn’t take his meds. He drinks too much. He lies. He’s an idiot. Untrustworthy, in every way. Remember: M***** = VIPER.  It was really hard for me to admit what had happened back then. I had a tendency to just ignore it, especially in my journal, where all that exists is what I write. I didn’t tell Chess until about a year later. I told everyone on the way home a deer ran out in front of us, and me being wasted like I was I was floppy and reacted too slowly, so my face smacked into the dash. My specialty is lies so stupid, people believe they HAVE to be true.

I hope this is just a cold. Ever since I got strep (agonizing, awful strep) I get paranoid when my throat starts feeling sore, but I think I’m in the clear. It’s not bad, and I have no snotty crap. I feel fine, except for my sore throat and the occasional cough and splitting headache. I feel weak and woozy, but I think it’s from not eating. Barely any Crystal Light. Just gum (3 cals a piece) and the NyQuil (?) and 2 cough drops. (15 a piece)      I really don’t know what happened in my brain to make me turn into a calorie counting food Nazi. I love food, and I hate math. Don’t worry, it was only a brief anorexic phase.

New day, new entry.

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Day three of no food. So far just a few cough drops and  piece of gum. Chess came in today, dropped off my make-up bag. I would take it out of my purse to make room for all the stuff I’d shoplift, and then spaz out and leave it in her car, which SUCKED. I think she came by 2x? She didn’t wake me up, I’m sad. I haven’t talked to her in almost a week! I miss my friend. I wanted to talk to my aunt to see if I could crash there. I was staying in the apartment Chess and her boyfriend had rented, and it was just a temp fix. I’m gonna hafta ask Lucifer if he’ll do me a favor and hold on to my cd’s. I don’t want Andrew stealing them. Fucking dope head. Okay, this is my family.

My egg donor is the youngest of five children. Then goes my aunt Marian, my uncle Jerry, uncle Mike, and uncle Frank. Order from youngest to oldest. Everyone but my egg donor has brown hair and eyes; she has blue and red brown. Grandma says they’re her mother’s traits, but aunt Marian says she was adopted or switched at birth and Lucifer always thought Gma had an affair.

Aunt Marian has 4 children from 4 different daddies. Andrew, brown hair and eyes, is the oldest. I think he was born in ’84, and I hate him. He’s been just plain mean and an asshole since we were kids. He’s currently in prison/jail for dope and he steals EVERYTHING.

Ben is next, and I believe he was born in ’86. He has dark dark brown hair and gorgeous brown eyes with long dark lashes. (I’m jealous) I have short blonde brown eyelashes naturally. My left eye has 3 or 4 random blonde lashes. Mascara cannot give me lashes like my cousin has. He’s about my height (which is a little over five and a half feet) and Mexican looking. He was on dope last Xmas but last I heard, he said he was off it. He’s sweet and caring and very funny but he does dumb stuff and gets into trouble. He was my favorite, but he’s not the same anymore. There’s another reason I hate drugs.

Martha was born in… ’91. She has dark brown hair, brown eyes, and freckles. She’s also short (like her mom), and people think she’s Mexican. She might be. She’s my fave, has been since Ben changed. She’s dorky, like me. She’s a movie buff with a great memory for quotes, and has a wide taste in music, deeply rooted in 80′s rock of all types. In short, she’s awesome but doesn’t really know it. She hasn’t figured herself out, combined with her mother’s oppressiveness means she’s chameleon-like and is easy to manipulate. She has low self-esteem. I can’t wait until she realizes how awesome she is!

Last is Katherine, born in ’98. She has brown hair and brown eyes, and is grssly under-sized. She looks like  crack baby, haha. My uncle

Next posting, please!

P.S. I was born in 1988, to give you an idea of my age in relation my the age of my cousins. Graduated in ’06, baby!

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just surprising. I was saying “You? A short, ROTUND Mexican is calling me big?” But hey, I applied at a ‘gentleman’s club’. As he was talking to me, glancing over my application and repeating over and over ‘I guess I could try you out…” he kept looking me over, appraising me like I was a car he wanted to buy, or an animal he was considering. Not like he, personally wanted me though. His eyes did not spend much time on mine. I just kept hearing him say “I guess I could try you out.” It was hard to hear him. He spoke softly and his face was lowered. Apparently, he approved of my breasts, it seemed like his eyes spent a fair amount of time there. I got up from my seat and held out my hand (fingers chilled and bloodless as usual in the winter months). It took him a moment to realize what I was doing before he wiped a palm on his pants. I grasped his moist, doughy hand in mine and shook it, thanking him for his time. I then walked out, gratefully (almost hastily) retreating. It seems that for me, though the money is undoubtably good, this type of job is better in theory than in practice.

New entry.

So, last night Toby came in, and he was drunk, it was funny. I asked if I could use his phone to call Chess.  and when I got her… she said they broke up. ( ! ) I’m really sure they’ll get back together. If I were Toby, I wouldn’t propose until she quit her overbearing, nosy, hair-trigger bitchy bullshit. I love her to death, but she reminds me of my sister (who was also recently dumped) because she’s prone to OVERREACTION. Hardcore, times a million. Apparently Lucifer keeps texting Chess w/ stuff like “When do I get what I want?” (Old news, haven’t talked to her today.) She was supposed to text him and tell him to come to the apartment. I don’t think she did because he hasn’t

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shown. I’m not apprehensive about it at all. I still plan to tell him I don’t want to be with him. I’m considering allowing him to see me 1x a week, but he has to show within 10 minutes of the agreed time, or he dones’t see me until the next week. Visits will last no more than 4 hours. He WILL be sober, the only thing acceptable in his system will be the the pills prescribed to him. I won’t drink, either. I don’t need him coercing me to sleep with him.

But really, I’m not getting back with him. I think about it, and I have every reason to stay away, and not one to go back. I don’t love him. The absence of hatred for him prives to me that I’m not lying to myself. I habe no love for him anymore. I can’t remember the last time I did. I mean, when he got on his meds, I was excited and enjoying him while he lasted, but I still didn’t love him. I was waiting for the moment when something in me just went “BAM! I LOVE him.” But it never came. I just kept slipping up and saying it from habit and I just gave up to make him happy.

I wish I had a phone though! No one’s her 95% of the time and I can’t get a hold of anyone. I wanna hang out w/ Vito! He’s a sweet kid. Not that I think anything’s gonna happen but… I could TOTALLY overlook the fact that he’s like 17 (maybe 18?).

Gah. Can you believe Stevo’smarried? *gag* He’s almost 21 (or 22) and she’s 30, going on 31. And she’s UGLY. I think what happened was they both went “Look. I’m ugly, you’re ugly. We’re only gonna get worse with time, so let’s commit now, while we can still get halfway horny with the lights dim. Too much longer and I won’t be able to get off in the dark, and you’ll be too old to bear our unfortunate children. Marry me?” I’m horrible, I know. *What was I thinking?*

“painted up against the sky” I was watching Superman Returns (great movie, I love superhero movies and comic books) and wanted to write it down so I didn’t forget. That’s how poetry typically starts– one line, and an idea. I haven’t seen (excluding tv) another human being in like… 4 days. U hear people next door, and I sing in the shower, but it’s not the same. I didn’t eat ANYTHING yesterday and only drank a few mouthfuls

  Continued in next post.

Page 1

Say I work 3 nights a week at $250 a night. That’s $750 a week. In 2 weeks I’ll have $500, and Ruby bought her crapola car for what… $2000? I think I could buy a decent car in a month, and I’ll probably word more than 3 a week and make more than that. The job doesn’t seem so bad, now… I might even hone my flirting skills, haha. Naybe after a while I could buy a house. A little one, duh. And I’m not big on being tied down, but I could rent it out. Take off elsewhere. Maybe I could get a 2nd job for weekdays. I’d have to be done by 3 or 4 though. I’ll work that out later.

Tomorrow, I’ll drop by Maximus again. Then drop my application at Ross and go to a few more places. Woo! My thumb hurts. I need to go to school or something– I don’t write much anymore, and it’s killing my hand. Ooh! I could buy a craptop. *Woot* And I could play MapleStory! I miss MapleStory. And all my buddies! I miss my non-life, haha. And let’s take a moment to remember… LUCIFER SUCKS!

I think I’ll forever celebrate LUCIFER-FREE life. Why oh why did I go back to him over and over? The last (million) few times I didn’t even care… I think I’m nuts. I think I’m retarded. The 1st day I was angry and depressed. I had it in my head that he was my foundation. Silly, huh? He’s about as good a foundation as… jello or something. Always back and forth! And he needed even more from me than I did from him. I know it seems I’m dwelling on him, but I wanna get my thoughts down. I don’t speak of him. I rarely wish to. It’s just funny things and personal experience, becuase I had so much with him. He wasn’t all bad, I make sure that’s known. I don’t love him. I don’t want him. YAY ME!

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So… shocker of shocks… you guessed it. He’s trying to get me back. He called Chess looking to talk to me, but she was at work. According to her, he spent an HOUR saying the same CRAP over and over again. “Birdie, my angel, my baby… I love her so much, I just wanna take care of her. I don’t even wanna have sex with anyone else, I knew I wanted to marry her the first time I saw her” and a new one “I don’t care what my parents say” IDIOT.

I really don’t dig his parents though. What they did was SO CRAPPY. They’re VIPERS. He can keep his twisted, insane viper’s nest. I’m staying far, far away from their corrosive venom and deadly coils. Remember: M*****=VIPER. Don’t have a good substitute for their last name. Every last one of the slimy, loathsome beasts.

Oh yeah– I think he wanted to come over here and talk to me, but she told him if he came here, she would forcibly remove him from the apartment. Gotta love the kid. I’d like to talk to him though. I want my shit. I want him to get down on his knees (not literally). He’ll probably cry. Then I want to tell him NO. To tell him that he’s 22, he should act it. It used to be “I love you. I can live without you, but I’d rather not have to.” or “I don’t need you, but I do want you.” No more. Now it’s “I don’t need you. I don’t want you. I don’t love you. I’m happier without you. Goodbye.” And I mean to tell him that. Snivelling indecisive bastard thinks he can be a huge ass, then come begging back and all’s well. Maybe that used to be true, but no longer. I hit my limit long, long ago. I was just foolish. (And trapped.) Eff it!

Home boy at Maximus referred to me as  “bigger woman.” (Explaining that I’d need black pants, or a skirt, but since I’m a bigger woman… the skinny little things like to wear skirts…) Now, a few times a day, I say to myself “I’m a bigger woman.” I wouldn’t say it’s dropped my self-esteem, it was

Haha, end of page. Read next entry.

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Wow. It’s been like 2 weeks. I agreed to be Lucifer’s GF 2 days ago. Last night he got stoned with his brother. Didn’t take him nearly as long as last time to fuck me over, did it? He’s decided to ‘stop’ taking his meds. I guess this’ll be the last time I buy into his I love you/ I’m changing bullshit. I hate him and I REALLY hate me for letting this happen.

No wonder I can’t feel anything anymore. I am never going to be happy. Nothing will ever work out. I’m such a freaking dumbass. I just wanna curl up in a ball and stay there for the rest of my life. I took 13 pills, I should sleep for a while. I just don’t want to make any more dumb choices, and that means no choice making haha. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to hear thim try to sell me his bullshit. I don’t want to buy into it anymore. 4 years is enough.

I want to cut out my stupid heart. It  deserves it for everything it’s done. Technically, it’s my fault. Lucifer can’t help the way he is. I should never have expected anything more than waht he is. That person died a long time ago. Like me. I can’t express how I hurt. I can’t express how I hate (us), how stupid I feel, how angry I am, how hopeless I am. Funny: he doesn’t realize that if I found God I’d leave him. I’m gonna go get some wine.

Right. On the God thing, he flips back and forth between a conspiracy theorist and a believer in god. It’s stupid. I’m an atheist, and I didn’t just wake up and decide one day. It was an informed decision that took me many years to reach. Meanwhile, this jackass starts saying he’s worried for my immortal soul or some shit. I’m like… fuck off, tool.

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OH SHIT! WOW! I just realized I completely skipped a huge part of alla this shit. I guess I was too ashamed to write it. I still saw Lucifer. One night, Chess, her boyfriend of the moment, Lucifer and I went out and got utterly shit-faced. It was the night before Thanksgiving. We were way too trashed, I’m suprised he didn’t kill us with his driving. On the way home, he started saying incredibly mean things, and I just kept saying shut up, shut up, we’ll discuss it when we’re sober but he wouldn’t listen. I think he slapped me or did something that hurt me physically, but I can’t remember. I was wasted.

So being of impaired judgement, I turned sideways in my seat, pulled my knees to my chest, and kicked him in the head. Hard. I have very strong legs. So he started punching me in the face repeatedly. Then he pulled over and pushed me out into a ditch. So I lay there, too shitfaced to move, crying, bleeding, and enjoying an extreme amount of pain through my drunken stupor. A few minutes later, he came back and put me back in the car.

I couldn’t attend Thanksgiving with my family because my mouth was cut open and swollen, and my face was litterally black. One eye was so swollen, it was beyond swollen shut. There was just a line. The entire socket and everything around it was black and swollen. He cracked the bone under my eye. He broke it.

I know this because though I never went to the hospital, for six months afterward it was discolored, painful to touch, and had a lump where the break occured and was healing. Didn’t I tell you it would get ugly? Shortly after, I left. Here’s the journal entry that follows all of this. Black ball point.

My life’s fucked up, but there’s no need to detail it. See, shame. I don’t care. I like not being with him. There’s SO much less stress. I never wrote in my journal how I was so stressed out by him that I went 53 days without a period. I thought I was pregnant, and I was so freaked out. I’ve never had an irregular cycle, and I’ve dealt with a lot of rough life situations. It takes a lot to stress me so badly that you knock my body out of rhythm. I  don’t have to deal with his dramatic bullshit, or anything else. I think I’m OK. I hope I’m okay. 

I think the reason why I always go after shy guys is (they aren’t like Lucifer) that if I can pull them out of their shells and get them to care for me, it might be like I was for him, in the beginning. But for some reason, I treat them like projects. I don’t get attached, don’t feel anything. That’s dumb of me. I think I don’t want to get screwed over.

It’s not hard at all to find people (guys) who like me, are interested in me. It’s hard to find guys I like, guys I’m interested in– as more than a project. Hell’s bells, not but a couple days after I was freed, I started in on Chad. That’s Chess’ younger brother. He was almost 17 at the time, I think. Or was it almost 18? Of course, he got drunk and ‘fessed to liking me (shocker).

I really want someone to be intimate with. (Not sexually, yet.) I crave touch. Small gestures that express feeling and comfort. I crave to give these things. As I help poor drunken Chad in my lap, I found myself kissing him (head, arm, hand, back) and rubbing his back and patting and squeezing and massaging. I kept holding his hand. When he twined his fingers through mine, it was marvelous. I even held his hand when he passed out. I love that sort of contact with a male. I think I could live with just that type of thing, even though I’ve gotten quite used to hearing all the time “I love you”, “You’re beautiful/ sexy/ cute/ silly/ pretty/ hot etc.” I even sort of expect it from a partner. I liked being worshipped.

I’ll never get married, never ever. I don’t want to get that far, and end up disliking my man. I ESPECIALLY don’t want him not liking/ loving me a few years on and all that. That would be bad enough, but if he sought love/ sex elsewhere it’d be even worse. No marriage for me, no thanks. I don’t want to work at Maximus, but I could buy a car FAST at $300-$300 a night. Seriously, let’s see…

And I run off to the next page to do the math and continue the entry. FYI, Maximus is a local strip joint. I was going to WAITRESS.

And I just REALLY, REALLY WANT TO SAY THIS:

If he has been abusive, he will be again. If he says cruel things to you (verbal abuse), he will again. If he has slapped you (physical abuse), he will again. It does not matter how sorry he is. It does not matter how sweet or charming or wonderful he can be. It’s not a rule without reason. Too many young girls and women have been permanently damaged, or killed. I know it’s hard, BELIEVE ME, but you can get away. It is not your fault. If  you need someone to talk to, call a hot line, call a shelter, call a friend or a loved one, or the police. Send me a message. There are ALWAYS people willing to help, even strangers on the street. I didn’t mention sexual abuse, I know nothing about it. But please, get out of the situation if it’s happening.

Also, abusers ESCALATE. Before he ever slapped me, he would do things he knew caused me physical pain. He would bend my finger, or squeeze too tight, pinch the muscles in my neck or shoulders, or press on my breastbone. (Which doesn’t cause most people pain, but even a small amount of pressure causes excruciating pain for me.) It always begins small. Then they take it further and further. He slapped me. He would throw me around, tear my clothes, scream in my ear. He was violent, he was cruel, and he was always, always sorry. He would be so amazing afterward. They always are. Please listen to me. It’s not a coincidence that everyone says this about abusive partners. And your partner is no different.

I’ve been abused my whole life. It started when I was a child. I’m used to being hit, which is probably what made me tolerate it. I knew it wasn’t right, but somewhere in my brain it was sort of okay. I knew how to deal with it, even though I knew I deserved someone who could love me without hitting me. To people who have never been abused, do not think a person is stupid or weak because they don’t leave the situation or can’t stay out of it. People who have been abused are conditioned to accept it. It takes a lot of strength and usually a lot of failed tries before you can make it. It’s like people who try and stop smoking or doing drugs. There will be relapses. And just like a heroin junkie who leaves rehab and shoots up, it sometimes ends in tragedy. The junkie’s body could no longer handle the amount that had been pumped in. A victim’s partner had pent up anger, and maimed or killed her. Please understand, and be compassionate of victims of abuse.

Heavy posting this time around, I know. It’s life though. At least, it’s my life.

When I was a senior in high school (2006) he flew me out to his house in Florida where he lives with his wife J and his step-son, D, for a week of Christmas break. There was chemistry between the step-son, D and I the whole week. Finally, my last night there, we started making out and fooling around. We made out and stuff for about 8 hours. (Yes, my lips were crazy chapped.) We almost had sex, but I couldn’t bear to go that far with someone I’d just met because at that point in my life I’d only had sex with one person.

The next day, I left Florida, and we talked to each other in email and phone calls, and started a long distance relationship. After 3 or 4 months, I broke it off. And don’t freak out, he is of no blood relation to me. My brother is not his father. Anyway. So, read on. Hopefully this information will help you understand my next journal entries.

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Black ball point, my usual Birdie Original combination of cursive and manuscript.

So, it’s 2 am, and I’m sitting here waiting for my sleeping pills to kick in. The stresses of all the shit in my life made me unable to fall asleep on my own most nights. I’d drink a lot of wine and/ or take several over the counter 25 mg sleep aid pills. Over time I built up a tolerance for them, and I’d have to take about 9 at a time for them to have an effect. I’m so sick of the shit, but I have hope– D. I talked with him for an hour (or two) tonight. When he gets back to FL next week, he’s going to buy me plane tickets. He was in Texas for some Air Force training, having just joined. Of course, no one can know that. I story I’ll tell everyone (except maybe Chess) will be that K flew me out, like last time.

Despite last night’s insanity keep in mind  don’t necessarily write in my journal every day, so the ‘last night’s insanity’ I’m talking about was not the breakdown drama with Chess. I know Lucifer. He’s as desperate as he is pathetic, at least when it comes to me. I can be accused of the same. Last time I checked, it took 7 pills one hour to kick in with food in my stomach.  Anyway. I’m already a little nervous thinking about it… I guess I oughta starve myself, but even if I lose some weight, I’ll be bigger than D remembers. I’m not one of those obese people, but I’ve always had a few extra pounds. Like, maybe 10 to 20 pounds away from looking like everyone else. But a) I like my curves and b) I like food too much to not eat. Anyway.

It was already established weeks ago that I will not get back with Lucifer. (Atl east in my brain.) nevertheless, I’m sure this shit will go on. Like I said, desperate and pathetic. Even if I do move in w/ him– no strings attached– this FL trip will rock my world. I’ll see my bro, and have a blast the whole time. I would sleep w/ D. I did/ do care about him more than I ever pretended to care about Stevo. The guy I dated for a couple months and mentioned in a previous post…. not by name.

It’s getting colder ever night. The leaves are falling quickly, and my body’s going nuts. It’s screaming at me to go, flee, hibernate, WHATEVER and I know it’s not just the situation. Someday if I have the resources, as soon as my body starts with it’s restlessness and whatnot, I’ll pack up and I’ll fly away, and I won’t come back until someone tells me spring is coming. Right now I feel desperation and dramatics on top of my seasonal restlessness. I want to tumble down the stairs, to sleep for 48 hours from my pills, to fly away to someplace warm for a perfect, guiltless escape and do whatever I feel like at the moment. I want to go out and have fun and die by the hand of a nut– I see the article from the newspaper in the back of my mind, with the least graphic picture possible attached. Yeah, I’m a little unbalanced. The mental stress from all the shit in my life coupled with the way my body always screams at me to run away when fall comes was making me think very strange things.

It’s been 20 minutes, and I am now leaving to read and await

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the heavy drunken bliss that is my slightly over-medicated sleep. Maybe I will be more capapble of reflection tomorrow. Maybe not. Who cares?

New entry!

This morning I dreamed of David. I dreamed that I was in FL and we were hanging out, and I was wearing Lucifer’s senior ring on my right hand and an elaborate silver one on my left. We were having fun, and we went into the city and ran into his ex-gf. We were talking to her and I just kept getting madder and madder, clenching and unclenching my fists. Finally I squirted my Almay Smart Blush random, I know, haha  all over her face and neck and hair, grabbed D’s Crackberry which is what I call Blackberry phones   and ran off. 

I notcied I was wearing a hospital gown with an open back, like a crazy person. I went to the big office building where K wored, because i wanted to text D and tell him I was sorry, but I didn’t have a number where I could reach him since I took his cell. Finally I went home, was forgiven, by K, who then went inside. Then, I tried apologizing to D for being so crazy. I tried to pull off Lucifer’s senior ring, but he saw it and got mad, then said it was just like last time. He was acting like Lucifer- ugh. I enjoyed hugging and kissing on him and being hisgirlfriend and actually being able to go out with him. I’m liking all the D in my life right now.

New entry, new day, blue ball point.

Holy shit! D and I have been talking the past 3days. Tonight though.. it got sexual. We just kept talking about sex-related things and then we finally talked about US having sex. He told me I have a sexy voice, and should work at a 900 number place, haha. This is particularly amusing to me now. You’ll understand when I catch up to my latest journal entries as a 21 year old. He told me how cute I was, the way I started biting him that night… we vowed to have an entire fun-filled week. At least. I’m so happy! Chess kept asking why I was acting like a giddy schoolgirl. He just makes me feel so good. I’ve never really felt likehe and I were played out. The circumstances have never been right for us. They still aren’t. Honestly, if it ever happened…

I’ve decided to post page 26 at the same time for several reasons. First of all, the entry continues on that page. Second, it will help me get it back to the same way I was posting… So enjoy. From this point on, if I complete a sentence on the end of the second page but the entry contines on to the next set of pages, I’m leaving you hanging. Don’t complain! It’s not as if I make you wait for days or weeks for new posts. I post multiple times a day, because I have so much journal, so chillax.

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I wouldn’t love him like I love Lucifer. I love Lucifer like a junkie loves heroin, even though I know how damaging he is. The way I love D would be healthier, I think. Lucifer doesn’t like that I talk to D. It’s just tough for him. I guess in truth, I’m leading him on. I don’t even feel love for him 90% of the time. I just have this compulsion to seek him out. Like I said: JUNKIE! And I don’t mind doing this. I’ll spend a blissful week w/ D. We’ll fuck, have sex, maybe even make love. There is a difference, kiddoes. We might even continue to talk on the phone. And Lucifer and I will probably continue, too.

I really don’t care what it would do to Lucifer. He deserves it. I feel guilty about how D would feel, when I think about it. That’s why I dumped Lucifer last time– guilt, mostly from D. He’s got me so excited! I wish circumstances were right. I wish things would line up and we could happen. I know it’s not the right time, but I hope the right time will come someday. Hell, maybe we’re not meant to be anything more than occasional lovers, but… I will always carry a torch for him. Deep down inside, a secret to the world, that flame will burn on. I just won’t ever tell. Ever.

New day, new entry. Black ball point, very hurried scribbly writing.

Things’ve changed, again. Lucifer’s on anti-anxiety, anti-depression, and anti-psychotics. Never date a small pharmacy. Words of wisdon from me to you, ladies. They’re doing wonders for him. He’s getting his act together, thank god. We might work. I hope so. I haven’t committed to him, or even saud ‘I love you’ because I don’t yet. I’ve really loved spending all this time with him. He’s always chill or happy, and he’s silly and funny and fun, and finds me amusing. You should know, I’m a big jokester. He used to think my jokes and humor was stupid after we’d bee ndating a while. He’s sweet. It’s so different! We get along 24/7. It’s like the old days, and it’s the only thing keeping me around. I wouldn’t be here if he weren’t so radically different. It’s amazing. I have a lot of hope for us. He’s great.

 Okay… the thing where I was gonna go see D fell through, I forget why. It had something to do with the military or whatever. Who cares. Like I said, Lucifer got on tons of meds, and wanted to prove to me that he was different. More Words of Wisdom from me to you ladies– people do not change, and you cannot make them. Do not waste your time. If you have that big of a problem with something someone does, go find someone that fits your needs and wants better.  

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Black ball point, small and orderly cursive.

Alright, so… a lot has been going on lately. The past couple night’s we’ve been partying. This would be me and my partner in crime, Chess. The first night I got so fucking drunk, came home, puked and passed out. That was the first night I managed to drink beer without gagging. Through and through, I’m a liquor girl, preferring bourbon (Jack Daniel’s) above all. We were all sitting at a kitchen table, drinking. Rap was playing, and the few people there were talking. I hate rap, and I didn’t have much to contribute to the conversation. For hours, I sat there. This was what I did. Pick up beer. Take a drink or two. Put down beer. Pick beer back up. Repeat. Seriously, I did that just to have something to do. I didn’t put much time between putting it down and picking it back up either, haha. Anyway!

The next night, last night, I didn’t drink (well, I had a couple or 3 red draws, and little straight, but… I’m not a lightweight, FYI. ) but I brought my wine for Chess. I told her on the way to Amanda & Andy’s about Andy saying she’s the kind of girl he’d fuck and never talk to again. I only old her because she was thinking about messing around with him. She was understandably upset (read: angry & hurt) and then she got DRUNK. She was yelling at Andy, and then THANK GOD we left. We went to Franks’ house (I know). She was drunk and all over the place and pretty soon she went outside with her friend Ashlee and Scobee. I stayed inside because I figured they were talking, because Ashlee’s leaving soon (I won’t cry.) and Chess hearts her. 

After a bit Ashlee came in. A while later, Scobee came in, carrying a passed out Chess in his arms. She was limp, her head was fallen back, her eyes were closed and her jaw was slack. She wasn’t moving. I thought ‘Thank God.’ and figured dear Chess’ wild night of drinking and drama were over. Not so. A few minutes later, I heard the distinct sound of sobbing and could no longer worry from afar. I hurried my ass in there where there was a small crowd. Leo was at her feet, Scobee at her side on the bed, and Amanda had her head in her lap. Let me mention, the Ashlee girl that had only been in town for a couple weeks that was supposed to be really ‘tight’ with Chess was still in the living room, grinding pathetically on the lap of the guy who had no interest in fucking a white trash, ghetto wannabe girl.

I asked if it was her that had been crying, because she was laying still, silent and vacant-eyed on the bed. A couple seconds later, she began sobbing, hyperventilating almost in response to my question. She wouldn’t speak, no one knew the specifics of her panic attack. Her teeth chattered and she trembled. She stopped breathing, stopped blinking, and I held her hand and tried to smile in a comforting way to let her know I was there, in emotion as well, as she stared unblinking, almost right through me. She sobbed and gasped for breath and became catatonic in alternating intervals as the people slowly trickled in and then out, until it was just us. We talked a

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little bit, and eventually left. After she had calmed, and was in the bathroom, I remember my eyes tearing up but I stopped myself. I was so worried for her, but she had enough to deal with. I just made sure to express my love and conern for her as I so rarely do. She has so much going on right now, and I wish I could help. She just doesn’t deal with her shit– instead, she piles her plate higher and now, as the inevitable break has occured I just hope she’ll get help (MEDS) and learn healthier habits then over-working and shunning her emotions.

I really do feel her pain. I had a similar break down, a couple summers ago, Birdie-style. Our relationship with our boys were similar in more ways than they weren’t. Our parents suck. She lost her fath in guys and I lost my faith in love. But we deal in different ways. Obviously, I’m no healthier, but I’m not as tightly wound as her. I know there’s not much I can do to help her, but I care so much about her. I consider her to be my best friend and have for a while, and that’s saying something. I’m very careful in selecting friends, even more so with girls. We don’t have serious discussions too much, but who does? I love the kid. Ha, I even dreamed of her. I was running around, doing everything I could to make her happy or make things easier for her. I don’t remember details, just that.

So yeah… that was our crazy night and my thoughts and feelings on it. Tada… I know I keep rambling, but I can’t find a satisfying (or appropriate) closer.

And so now I move on the keep my peace of mind…
Lyric bit with a music note doodle draw on either side. It’s Shinedown’s ‘Someday’ again. I wrote it as advice to her, though she never read it.

Crazy. And not a damned mention of Lucifer either, aren’t you happy? I am. I needed a break from my own whining. The characters Ashlee, Scobee, Leo, Andy, and Amanda are all real names. I didn’t see any need to give them fake names as (with the exception of Amada and Andy) these will likely be their only appearances.