♱ written aprox. 11:54 24 / 09 / 07
how to become a bug girl
1. gather your supplies :
✴cool jacket
✴worlds nastiest sneakers
✴thermos full of "something"
✴notebook
✴parliment cigarettes
✴blessed relic
2. find your footing
✴ignore the elephant in the room
✴cry as much as you need , more if you can
✴stop crying
✴convince yourself that at least one person doesn't hate you; make them loow you around
✴ go to your bughole.
&my band re go to your bughole.leased our first tape today :) i should be happier but my brain is eating me from the inside out. i have eelings i never even dreamed o and a slow creeping feeling that once again i will ruin everything . it always feels like something is about to happwn and im waiting or it . maybe if i smoke mysel into the grave i can avoid it. or maybe ill live forever to exist as salt on the earth . i am a girl who bathes with televisions and only knows how to touch hot things with wet towels .
walking home tonight , i overheard a girl say that her parents had their first kiss at local bar in town . i have never been there , but my friend says it smells like piss and is shaped more like a hallway that a bar . how romantic !! i wonder if it was like this decades ago when those two people formed the beginning of a (possibly) beautiful marriage .
♱ written aprox. 11:54 24 / 09 / 07
"She knew something was weird,
she had long stringy terrible hair that she wouldn’t let
anybody cut, the insinuation of an eating disorder, which
she certainly wasn’t classifying as an eating disorder yet.
As far as she could tell, she was a mostly straight boy who
just didn’t want to eat sometimes with a bottomless belly
for drugs. Or at least, an interest in drugs, if not an aptitude.
She liked taking drugs, but she wasn’t any good at it. She
threw up a lot." -Nevada, Imogen Binnie
i , at 19 fucking years old , am afraid to leave my bed .
i woke up with memories of a person i was convinced loved me , a person i was wholy convinced that someday id end up with . i keep finding things that remind me of him
my brain is being disgusting and telling me that i should starve because of it , and honestly that strikes me as a pretty good plan right now . it's not so hard to not eat when you have a voracious appetite for drugs and booze and caffeine , and a tendancy to lose touch with reality
sometimes i get convinced that the only reason men are interested in me now is because i'm tinier than i was last semester . its hard to tell whether i'm being dellusional about this or not , but the sad truth is there is a very real possibility i'm not imagining things .
sexuality is scary and weird to me , i know right now that i'm pretty adverse to the idea of havng sex , the idea of another person being in control of my body terrifies me .
i dont know if my interest in boys is a sign that i'm just gay , that i'm trying to perform hetorosexuality , or that i know this is what i should want and i enjoy the attention . i'm going to assume the latter .
i want to think that this new guy , who convieniently came back into my life recently , is going to be different . that hes only looking my way now because he no longer has a girlfriend , and not because i've lost the roundness in my face , the puff in my fingers .
i think i really want a boyfriend , and that makes me feel so fucking lame .
i want to be better than that , but it's so fucking difficult .
its so easy to think a man would fix things when i've been fed that lie my whole life .
i think i will try to get out of bed and try to get ready but who knows how scared i'll be . maybe ill try to eat. maybe (more likely) i probably won't , but at least i can have some coffee . i miss feeling normal so bad .
walking home tonight , i overheard a girl say that her parents had their first kiss at local bar in town . i have never been there , but my friend says it smells like piss and is shaped more like a hallway that a bar . how romantic !! i wonder if it was like this decades ago when those two people formed the beginning of a (possibly) beautiful marriage .
walking home tonight , i overheard a girl say that her parents had their first kiss at local bar in town . i have never been their , but my friend says it smells like piss and is shaped more like a hallway that a bar . how romantic !! i wonder if it was like this decades ago when those two people formed the beginning of a (possibly) beautiful marriage .
i don't know how to feel about anything ever
im numb when i shouldn't be , but the sight of 11 birds makes my face start feeling all heavy .
sometimes i convince myself that if my mom died i wouldn't evn cy , but even thinking about the idea is enough to make me start sobbing .
i lost one of my earings yesterday. i have no udea where it went . these earrings are special , a star with a spiral in the center . i want to replace them, but this woukd be my third pair , it feels like maybe its time for a change .
admitting i lost something always makes me feel like a failure . can't believe i lost my keys .
how does something like that even happen ? i'm an incoveinient anomaly .
sometimmes i get upset that it's not socially acceptable to tell my secrets to strangers .
im in a new state ; who cares if i tell people things that i left behind ?
turns out, running water does make you need to pee
im having one if those awful-wonderful 2 days ,
where i thought a day had gone by and it hadn't so i might has well been gifted an extra by god ,
where i wake up with the sun somehow
but i try to lull myself back to sleep , and knowing i have nothing to do today , that i want to save my energy for the night .
my hairs not to dirty but i wash it anyway , enjoying the rhythm of bubble and scrubbing ,
of being able to shave
without fear that the razor will become something more .
maybe today ill take my medicine , to prolong this euphoria . each time you convince yourself its the drugs , that you can feel like this forever .
i put on my blue clogs — because theyre the only pair i have left , because ive always wanted shoes like these but thought they might make me look stupid — and scrambled out the door on the way to the first bus that would take me .
the clouds and the trees and more people than ive talked to all day , online or offline .
barely a park and more one of those nice landscaped walking trails , saddly uncommon enough to be considered of-note .
i sit under a bridge and call my cousin ; it was daunting this morning but everything settles into place .
left my shoes at a friends and i think i might have left them again today , even though i stopped by specifically to pick them up . that became a beer and a couple joints and some tv that i started blocking out .
it almost got too loud. i start finishing my book and it occurs to me that i am reading and processing the tv at the same time . i need to get out of here
i head to a friends place , their first of their own , in its liminal state , obviously about to become something .
he has a balcony , which feels rich and adult somehow .
we share a cigarette on the porch and talk about how once this summer is all over we'll be seeing way more of eachother .
how did summer become a burden ?
i dont feel like going home just yet so instead i walk around listening to connections and feelings (2014-2022) . the image of someone
reminiscing on all theyve made and all the memories they have with it becomes to much for me
my eyes well up and i look on a map how to get home
i look up at the stars and wonder if id give up this feeling of swelling in my chest looking at powerlines like angels and airplanes like rocketships
i know ill have to live most of my days counting and relying on tension to keep my mind busy .
i know ill step on a stick and the deer will run away .
my stomach rumbles so i buy gas station pizza . food is easier this way , it sounds fun but only sometimes , ill get bored if i eat too much .
i know that for some reason i need to write this all down .
i feel around the outside of my bag , never the inside , to make sure you still have imogen binnies nevada ( a book you lended from a girl you've mostly talked to at shows who i really admire , so i borrowed her favorite book the second she offered . i guess i was hoping to learn something) even though theres no way it could have gone missing .
i get home . i pour myself a cup of coffee— lukewarm in the thermos thats supposed to keep things hot for hours , but i have a tendency to waste those —because i still don't feel like shit and sadly that calls for a celebration
i occasionally convince myself this could be my new life
but i know its not so ill try to tire myself out by reading my book about a manic , broken transexual on the verge of running away and possibly ruining everything .
fuck .
my wifi is bein seedy , so i have no idea if this will be posted on the day of writing ( especially because the blog page doesn't even exist ,,, there is no reason in particular for me to writing on this blog post but i felt like writing . i am reading this wonderful book ( " nevada " : imogen binnie ) about a trans blogger who works at a bookstore and it is speaaking to me and teaching me many things i fear . i have been a little too focused on everything reecently and it has been making my head hurt and making it hard to sleep . i keep silence to go to bed most nights because i fear that if i get too used to drowing out the picking chatter in my head with old streams or a selection of songs on my computer . even as i was writing this , there's a vargskelethor windows destruction in the background . i tried just living with the silence . its hard to work with noise in the background but it's even harder to write while my thoughts keep facing so deepl inwards . i don't really know whats wrong with me , but i know that i haven't feltl as nasty as i had been feeling . i really want a fried egg right now . hopefully a roomate will stabalize things and allow me to actually rest. I downloaded a dream interpreter from the internet , hopefully something to break through the noise will help .
