jackthegirl

Although I should proably sit down and write a proper, coherent entry - as my writing skills are very under par as of late - it's just so easy to do the one-line-to-one-event-subject-jumping-fucking-blitzkrieg entries that I have become so very adept at (see below).

Getting menthol blown into your eye out of a stubby dildo shaped device is actually an oddly pleasant sensation. Or maybe I'm just a little loopy.

Screaming and kicking the shit out of nurses trying to hold you down to a hospital bed was far more satisfying than I could ever imagine. (The kicker is this: I'm not even crazy.)

Alright. Time for some old school stream-of-consciousness entries.

Hey-oh!

Sometimes I think about my marks and I want crumple up from the belly down, like those wooden toys that flop over in those pathetic collapses every time you yank their strings. Ever since I was told that I probably won't make it into UBC, I've stopped handing things in (pointless, pointless). Perhaps I should just quit now, not worry about that CPTV video or those Comp Civ quizzes or those fucking awful history assignments, drop out a month before grad and live a mediochre but essentially satisfying life of working at HMV, freelance writing, acting, just making the rent. It will be romantic until I"m thirty, after which it will be pathetic, but hey - I'll probably have killed myself over a torrid love affair or the sexism inherent in the system or the emptiness of life (this is the way the world ends, this is the way the world ends, this is the way the world ends, not with a bang but with a whimper) which will be fabulous as maybe my life's tragic end will neatly give it a beginning and a middle. Suicide always seems to lend meaning to what was entirely meaningless before it. Like Marilyn Monroe. Would she be quite as revered if she hadn't died so tragically? Before she had the chance to get older and fatter and lose her smooth skin and pretty blonde? Why is it that only a enigmatic and very, very sad overdose can lend a certain significance to something? Every time someone says that Marilyn Monroe is their idol, I want to scream, I want to scream that SHE WAS A HOLLYWOOD DUMB BLONDE. SHE WAS PARIS HILTON, NICOLE RICHIE, TARA REID. SHE WASN'T THE BEST ACTRESS, SHE CERTAINLY WASN'T THE BEST SINGER, BUT PEOPLE SEEM TO REVERE HER CURVES AND EYES AND LIPS AS THOUGH THEY WERE SOMETHING THAT SHE HAD PERSONALLY ACCOMPLISHED HERSELF. AND NOW SHE'S A FEMINIST ICON? SINCE WHEN? YOU COULDN'T EVEN COUNT ON THE WOMAN TO SHOW UP ON TIME TO HER OWN FREAKING MOVIES! YOU COULDN'T EVEN COUNT ON HER TO HOLD A DECENT CONVERSATION! YOU COULD ONLY COUNT ON HER TO BE PRETTY AND TRAGIC AND SLEEP WITH THE PRESIDENT!

But I suppose that yes, yes, she was very pretty.

On Sunday, the actor I was speaking to said "There is always a time you go through - for me it was in my mid twenties - that you do stupid things like drink too much whiskey and smoke too many cigarettes and have sex with people that you hate, all for what? To be like the authors, the movie stars, the tragic, tragic poets? We can't all be tragic poets."

I'll just have to drink extra hard.

I can do it!

I believe in me!

<---fucking appropriate.