PerFectly FaKe

you make me wanna smoke a cigarette . . .

Tue, 01 Mar 2005 05:13:47 GMT

flung open the door and it became my exit
my feet fell to the ground as if for the first time
one last glance, one last blink one last stare . . and ran
each flake clinging to my lashes, my brows those little whispies that never seem to get enclosed in my rubber band, my nostrils
obstructing my breating, licking my lips to conceal them from the cold but making them more prone to freeze and chap.
regretting that last cigarette that is beginning to slow my respiration, my heart rate=motivation to continue with this tryst, yet anticipating my next drag.
being content nestled in my blanket of smoke allowing it to seep into the fabric clothing me, my hair, my skin, to dwell there to remind me of its presense as each draft brings it to my attention, not permiting me to forget.
wrapped in clouds, in the toxins that entrap me
i need a light
i turn around
fling open the door and it became my entrance>>

throwing away the doubt but keeping the habit

Time to bust the 180

Mon, 03 Jan 2005 22:11:59 GMT

Gemini
(May 21-June 21)
When something gets old, give it a rest. Think only good thoughts about what's to come. Your attitude may seem forced or cheesy, but you mean every positive word you say. It's time to start off on the right foot.

smashing grapes beneath my toes and hating livejournal

Wed, 20 Oct 2004 05:04:59 GMT

typing and deleting
and so on and so forth
incubus on repeat
uncorked the bottle
glass number 3
distracting myself
growing tired
drunken dialing- please God no!
it wasnt like this in the beginning
i think it has finally sunken in and i
absolutely hate the consequences and repercussion

pushing 7 mon.

SIDE EFFECTS: increased heartbeat, breathing; decreased appetite, motivation; fatality

Thu, 07 Oct 2004 08:29:25 GMT

NOT EVEN WITH A TALL GLASS OF WATER COULD I SWALLOW YOU. . .searching the void within me to toss the endless scribbles of black onto the paper in front of me is both challenging and soothing. all the active thought polluting my every function has begun to take its toll. each glance, word, breath, touch, joke, cry for attention, in every encounter, every tryst, every rendevous that we experience on what seems to be the end of every month only shows me how i have not yet moved on. accepting the idea of the distance has evaporated itself into my daily groove, yet its the random moments that always rewind the endless rolls of film ive stored away somewhere deep inside of me, that at the time of hiding, i never wanted to uncover again, but honestly who was i kidding. my ears always hear the same things that within hours of execution i am nauseated with pain for giving in, being overcome with being so naive, and realizing that the simple acts in the past now carry much more baggage of emotion, and psychological strength, that these meetings cannot be as carefree as i once believed they could. like rope to a flame, each strand burning away as my solid composure plumets to the ground melting and transforming into liquid around your feet. are you far away in a new life, somewhere untouchable from where i am, am i far away, in your thoughts sometimes. . .

shed a tear because im missin you . . .

Wed, 07 Jul 2004 03:28:05 GMT

slight humor always seems to find a way when you appear from that mysterious place you seem to be hiding in for some time; that goes unnoticed from my own eyes . . .until they find yours again.
its that mystery that i get so intrigued by; ive been tripped again and your shoe is the only one i see . . . damn it. . .

this ship has sailed

Thu, 20 May 2004 19:25:20 GMT

crossing my fingers
in hopes of self discovery
on board massive ocean liner

3-4 months
cant wait

i could kick myself

Wed, 07 Apr 2004 18:16:46 GMT

so many things i wanted to do
but never took the initiative to do so.
i suppose thats why we've arrived here,
one last chance to end on a good note,
its all i ask . . .

seeking my unanswered thoughts

Thu, 24 Jul 2003 06:39:40 GMT

will i ever end up where id like to be, twisted around my own spindle, apparently trying to disguise itself as my brain. twirling; getting lost in each new notion that seems to knock me on my ass without remorse. i sit here bruised and beated, yet the only object that has flown through the air is my own conscience. a girl's mind can be her greatest fear, with the time i spend crouched within myelf, i could be discovering the artist hiding deep inside me to construct a piece of appreciation that i desperately need for my own sake. fighting back the cess pool of manufactured intellects walking in front of me, to stray from the single file line ive been waiting in for much too long; destination>>>> "the norm", at this point my own worst enemy, only neighbors to the abstraction my mind possesses. desperately awaiting variables to position themselves to make this equation correct.

ive begun to wilt

Sat, 21 Jun 2003 04:21:43 GMT

pull the sheet over my eyes for ive seen too much. when things seem to be going to good i begin to wonder, and that my friend, leaves me beneath the *stars* alone and restless.

as it invades me from the inside; out
my eyes become wide.

how's it gonna be . . . .

Thu, 29 May 2003 18:20:38 GMT

with a whole new look on things?

unidentified, to the naked eye

Tue, 01 Apr 2003 19:12:29 GMT

am i enough for you
or am i too much extra baggage
Has?
your temple filled to the top
over flowing with uneeded slack
What?
fills your time spent
upstairs in your head with the window open
exposing you to the air
thats beginning to reach your intentions
that leaves you motionless
trapped within the web you have begun to spin,
in circles and gaining tired

Self Realization: Counting the Days

Mon, 05 Aug 2002 16:42:03 GMT

"its funny how you feel so much,
but cannot say a word.

im screaming inside OH
BUT
can't be heard"

Dreams may never become (Reality) from this point on>>>>

Fri, 24 May 2002 03:55:36 GMT

ignoring the sunlight
it burns
too much truth
it's awaken me
from my dream
of never coming back

~and who will lye w/ me beneath the sky
tranforming the clouds by day
counting our wishes by night
. . .

~where will we run when the *STARS* turn to BLUE

Book Club Evaluation: by gretchen mann

Fri, 24 May 2002 03:24:34 GMT

-Title: Prozac nation
-Author: elizabeth wurtzel
-Pages: 317
-Category: memoir
-Date started: Feb 19
-Date finished: Feb 22
-Annotation: A memoir of a girl who faces many hardships in a dark depression. Searching for answers through many various substances, she finds some hope in Prozac.
Author Bio: Family: Born July 31, 1967, in New York, NY; daughter of Donald Elliot Wurtzel (a data analyst) and Lynne Ellen Winters (in high technology public relations).
Education: Harvard University, A.B., 1989. Politics: "Liberal-- very." Religion: Jewish.
Avocational Interests: Rock music, cats, film noir, lipstick, antique jewelry, women's history, professional basketball.
Career: Dallas Morning News, Dallas, TX, reporter, 1987-88;
New York Magazine, New York City, pop music critic, 1989-91;
New Yorker magazine, pop music critic, 1991-93.
Awards: Rolling Stone College Journalism Award, 1986.
Writings by the Author: Prozac Nation: Young and Depressed in America, Houghton Mifflin (Boston), 1994. Bitch: In Praise of Difficult Women, Doubleday, 1998.
The Secret of Life: Common Sense of Advice for Uncommon People, Random House, 2001.
-Evaluation: Elizabeth's ability to display her traumatic experiences on 317 emotion filled pages kept my chin dropped each time I opened the book. I found myself compulsive while reading, not wanting to drop the book for even a second. The reality and honesty she shared with her readers, showed that she not only wanted to share her life's saga, but her writing seemed to have craddled the pain that still remains in her soul. The anxiety that piled up in heaps in side of her may never be erased, but Prozac seems to be lending a hand. Starting her story off during a panic attack when she was expecting one hundred people over for a New Year's Eve party, was a genius way of making the readers feel comfortable with someone they're about to spend hours learning about. Instructing her readers is exactly what she did Prozac Nation isn't only reading to relate to, but to learn from society and the problems that touch down everyday. Elizabeth chose to teach through her personal encounters with such depth and feeling I almost felt her on going struggle of internal abnormalities myself. The genuine guidance and counselling as well as the tragic truth gives support and company to those that are going through the darkness of depression.
~HIGHLY RECOMMENDED~

FOR SALE . . AnXiety. with purchase of Panic, Depression and PMS (limited time ONLY)

Mon, 13 May 2002 23:48:18 GMT

im not ready ., . YET
thank god everyday, that we met
though still i hold no regret
back of the head is what i get

no hand to hold
faced it ALONE
no one there to console
i transform ;to "empty soul"
pushed down further in this hole
swept away from the world thats whole
how i wish i could smoke a bowl
eat some food and get real full
seclude myself from all this bull
come sit with me on a grassy null
cuz

in my head i wish i'd die
no one seems to hear my cries
So . .i peer into your eyes,
to forget your lies
is the goal in mind.
now youve got me intertwined
how the hell'd you get so fine
macaroni grille and drink some wine
late night pool style . . I knew you were mine.
took a test and saw a sign
this is where i draw the line

price to pay is not too cheap
the sky is dark, where's the jeep
those nights i never thought to weep
tears dried up and there we'd creep
sun comes up and still on "E"
all the thoughts you shared with me
placed out in the air for the world to see
how i loved that XTC
BUT, now the demon starts to seep
penetrating my soul way too deep
the past is all i want to keep,
days so high id laugh and leap,
way too stoned to make a peep,
LYE me down; lets go to sleep
one by one we'll count the sheep

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~PEACE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TIRED

Fri, 22 Mar 2002 09:07:04 GMT

SICK and tired

Did they ever even notice me before?

Fri, 15 Mar 2002 23:09:58 GMT

youd think i have something terminal
or something
theyre making feel like more shit
maybe it is?
one day . . .
its pretty FUCKING sad that people get more attention when theyre . . .
well like this.

I cant stop them,
theyre streamming down my face.
What will make them go away,
drenching the keys as each one falls,
further and further,
i wish i could go with them.

words endlessly flow through the tip of my pen, yet my lips remain sealed

Fri, 15 Mar 2002 03:27:49 GMT

Writing:
~the only adoquite mode of personal expression i seem to possess.
~IF only life could be made up of words and music, IF only every thing else could just slip away

My feet cemented to the floor,
a muzzle lodged so far into my mouth
im barely breathing.
what became of the endless conversations til 3AM.
it seems WE have disappeared,
i came so CLOSE from so FAR
yet now im perched gazing through the glass
trapped in an ever lasting memory,
i can never seem to SWALLOW.
i hide behind this window
and look at myself
look at a life
I'd rather NOT see.
like fog
it seems to hover over my head,
like an open wound that refuses,to scar over,
a window that no amount of muscle could EVER open.
LOCKED deep down inside of me
where everything seems to hurt,
where you no longer occupy my vacancy.

What ever happened to "GOODBYE"?
you promised youd NEVER FORGET ME,
as you said "please remember me"

Fri, 08 Mar 2002 15:47:53 GMT

Drifting:

Drifting
On a sea of forgotten teardrops
On a lifeboat
Sailing for
Your love

Sailing home

Drifting
On a sea of old heartbreaks
On a lifeboat
Sailing for
Your love
Sailing home

its all just an . . . ExPerIenCe.

Tue, 05 Mar 2002 00:49:23 GMT

Manic Depression

Manic depression is touchin' my soul
I know what I want but I just don't know how to heh
Go about gettin' it
Feelin' sweet feelin' Drops fom my fingers
Manic depression is a catchin' my soul Yeah

Woman so weary The sweet cause in vain
You make love You break love It's all the same when it's
When it's over
Music sweet music I wish I could caress Caress Caress
Manic depression is a frustrating mess

SOLO

Well I think I'll go turn myself off and go on down All the way down
Really ain't no use in me hangin' around in Your kind-a scene
Music sweet music I wish I could caess and a kiss Kiss
Manic depression is a frustratin' mess

Music sweet music Sweet music Sweet music
Music sweet music Sweet music Yeah

its amazing what the rain delivered to my arms at one in the morning . . .

Sun, 03 Mar 2002 19:09:07 GMT

thank you for spending the night with me
couldnt have slept any better,
although i didnt show it
i was smiling deep inside
no dreams last night,
my unconscious couldn't have asked for more

I love you ........i really need to speak

Ignoring the Awkwardness BetWeen Us . . . ah FUCK

Sun, 03 Mar 2002 05:12:19 GMT

i think im on my last string
being thrown around like a puppet
while peering into my internal mirror
that is beginning to haunt me,

pull me out or push me
(down) 6ft under

yeah this entry is just for YOU

Sat, 02 Mar 2002 18:41:11 GMT

you've said goodbye
yet i have not yet seen the back of your head
the footprints in the snow
or the tears on my pillow
is there a reason your sticking around?
still anticipating . . .

for you to return to the girl you left
(BEHIND)
my back

~~~~~~~~~~~~~>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it hurts yet i hide it from the one that can (CURE)
the pain the struggle with each effort
of my daily strife, the regular check ups
draining my blood with every blow to my veins
what gets me by?
no one to turn to . . no need to worry
the soon to be FORGOTTEN
ones that forget they once CARED

5A.M. with the abstract thoughts of the sleepless,

Sat, 09 Feb 2002 10:22:48 GMT

as i sit here and rot away at the familiar thoughts that haunt my every day the what could have? and the what would have beens?
just dont seem to thrill me as they used to, why let the anger of others get you so distraught that you cant function, cant rise in the morning, let alone live.
the dreams that i hoped would let me unleash my freedom only holds me back from the real me,
The echoes of my internal self conscious
is now a mere whisper, as the flame slowly burns and only seldomnly gets a dance, will it face an agonizing departure, like that of my late father.
a great friendoncesaid "tears are like letting out your problems one . . .by one"
yet i dont understand crying, it doesnt help, wont benefit the hurt, only make one more so sorry for ones self,

the apologizes will never measure up to the LOVE/HATE REALTIONSHIP
its truly unconditional
goodnight and . . .
I do truly LOVE YOU . .
SWEET DREAMS.
saw you tonite yet spoke not a word . ..
until an early morning wake up

not supposed to think the unthinkable

Sat, 09 Feb 2002 02:21:46 GMT

others are to shead the ones you can no longer
resting and unable
evaporating into the breath you no longer exhale

will you catch me when i fall into what i fell in
dont be surprised when i collapse
. . .down at your feet again( the dirt resting upon your worn shoes )