I'm feeling better, I actually cried Friday night for the first time in a year! It actually felt good. Then I got some sex twice! Hooray!

10 Things I liked about today.
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1.> Resting and watching cartoons.
2.> Hanging & tacking things on my bedroom walls.
3.> Playing with my stinky little dog.
4.> Going to the store with Kittie.
5.> Getting a new Courtney Crumin & Gloomcookie.
6.> Getting my Jack Skellington mirrior on my wall.
7.> Geting hand me down porn from my friend Thor.
8.> Going to the parlour and getting my bead snapped.
9.> Free shit at Tates!!!
10.> Planning a new scupltre out of old forks & knives.

Tonight on the T.V. I saw Ryan O' Neill get hit upside his head with a water bottle. Fucking awesome!

I carved my pumpkin tonite! I carved it into the shape of StrongSad, but alas. I fucked it up and his face fell off. Hee hee it was a hoot! Anyhoo I had fun carving and what not, plus there's a ghost haunting the empty lot behind my freinds Jess & Thor's trailor. FUN FOR ALL!!!

I'll try to put up some of my artwork into a photo album one of these days...when I'm not busy with school or just being lazy! Good luck job hunting!

Hot Topic hired me to-day!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Shitty White-bread

FOOD POISIONING SUCKS!!!

I feel like sharing...


Here's a little story relating to me...

My momma was originally married to an army man named Jerry. Now Jerry probably was one of our unfortunate boys who got lured into becoming Guinea Pigs for our foolhardy government to test their Agent Orange on. But who knows, it was the sixties. He died from testicular cancer. When my brother Noel was only three. Now it should end there. Senseless tragedy, loss, and mourning, yeah it should end there. That was just the beginning.
Jerry’s momma, my brother’s grandma was a little off. She hated my mother, she hated her marrying her son, and she sure as hell went over the edge when he died. I was told, that when my brother used to visit her she’d dress him in his late father’s clothes and call him ‘Jerry,’ like he was some sort of twisted therapy for her.
This Norman Bates bullshit obviously warped my brother so he drank too much, got hooked on a shit load of drugs and would crash at my parent’s house. This was of course on a bender, but the bitch was that I was the youngest the only male, and quiet so he always got my bed.
Beatings ensued; I don’t remember much of that period. I black out on most of it, sometimes I get flashbacks but the rest of the details are a complete enigma.


That is a part of a book I'm writing of my memoires. It's about part of my family. I'm not sure yet what to think about it...

A fragment or line, or even a begining. This is but another poem, or even another sonnet? Something different from the tangles of my back-combed feathered head. Something rather unlike me, something happy.

I saw them all on the ends of flickered wings.
Pink and purple intermingled inside a broken vein.
Blood, and sweat, and bones, and flesh I saw them smile.

It's dark, I know, but I will write my legacy of love for the beauty of all these Suicide Girls!

To whoever reads it, tell me what you think?