so. i might ... *fingers crossed* ... have a place to live after i get evicted in two weeks. pray for me, people. *wicked grin*


....and, as always... nope. no apartment.
there is a certain freedom, i think, in the loss of all hope. unfortunately i do not feel "freed"... just very, very angry.

so.

fucking.

well.

i hate... this ... so much.
my hands and mouth are bloody my vision blurred and i am raving, hysterical... to no end. ah. the end... and all things moving towards it. then does the movement, the ritual and the act in itself transcend the meaning or motive behind it?
who fucking knows. or cares, at this juncture.
all i know is the pressure in the back of my throat that tastes suspiciously like...
it doesn't matter. i have sunken beneath it all... and all those things that i could never be, that i was afraid of, that hunted me down in the night and flayed me again and again... she has them, she is them.
and i am nothing.
and i am replaced.

thanks to all for the warm welcome.
:::
noticed today the fan art group and have since dedicated my week to such ends... in other artistic news i am getting reviewed in a week or so. which means a commitee gets to look at my art, force me to explain the finer conceptual points of stuff i did because i couldn't not do it, not because i was thinking about it, and decide whether i'm good enough to continue busting my ass for a dumb piece of paper with an "F" between the B and the A...
:::
i hate the "fine" arts and all the subsequent snobbery...

got back sunday from the southern iron conference in birmingham. love that molten-hot metal. mmmm. finally splurged on a membership to this site after about a year of hopelessly ogling. um. that is all. for now.