there is nothing left but haiku

this is me being miserable...


yeah, i cant tell the difference much either.

Gabe is a master at cheering me up. mentions of duck tape and a well lit night, maybe a pair of heavy work gloves and how procuring these items for him would solve my problems. I luuuurve gabe for being wonderful like this.


i havent seen anna today and i miss that already im still waiting for her to show up to class. My little mood has picked up a little bit.

maybe. . . a little.


gabe told me to put the naked pictures of a sexy sexy black man away. this makes me giggle.

[fight] or flight (choose one)

Please ignore the awful grammar in that last post. I wrote it while angry, and, as we all know, Krista angry is not a good thing.



Krista a little depressed and disappointed, is a little safer.


I love Anna, I just wish someday a guy would like ME more than her. Because I love her enough for any two people.

Telling him to go to hell was pretty funny on your part babe. But the swimming half naked. . . Not such a good idea. And I would have felt really bad if you had kicked him out.

Akim doesn't have to act like an ass to me anymore, and he pretty much stopped that crap as soon as I mentioned Andy in a non-positive way to him. November wont be soon enough. ^_^

You know what I love about his journal? I didn't put a link for comments, I just put a link to my read me disclaimer (next to the date, the notepad. Read it, know it, love it, live it). This is just about as personal as my written diary (okay, maybe not that personal) and I need it sometimes. A lot.

enough about that. Back to the Krista-is-fucked-in-the-head

I get to see Fisher again today. At one is when I'm heading over there. I don't doubt he is one of a very few who can kinda figure out my streams of consciousness and rearrange it into something legible. If only he wasn't so much older than me. KATONA IS NOT A SERIOUS CRUSH! I just thought she was pretty. damnit.

So, Death Cab's new album. . . Okay. We have the Facts is much better, Something About Airplanes likely their best. Anyone who tries to argue Transatlanticism as their top of de top just really wants another dashboard confessionals-like sound from Ben Gibbard. Out of Plans, brother on a hotel bed was my favorite. Sweet, sad and memorable. Everything I've come to expect from DCFC.

HIM. . . I got his new album for free just by being awesome and being on staff at the newspaper. I guess I have influence or something on campus since my GTA consensual sex article, which Omers Poli. Sci. Professor apparently liked. New album is just as much crap as I expected from this kindergoth's dream. Pathetico and sad and yet another attempt to draw teenaged girls in with pseudo-emotional lyrics. I mean, come one, Razorblade Kisses? How. . . Sad. . . . This one is just as awful. Pre-manufactured Goth-pop-rock at its best/worst. I guess if it sells.

Ah, but I did download Pedro the Lion live and I have just way too much respect for the band as of late. Humble to the crowds, polite and accepting, even when their audience isn't . The same touching sounds and emotional behind each word, facetious or not, case in point being When They Really Get to Know You, They Will Run. Despite the obviously jesting lyrics, you fall into the momentum and instead of laughing you're singing along wondering when you became a misogynist. Pedro is the best thing to happen to my ears, or any orifice for that matter, in a long time.

krista sucks.

i guess i just so good at being editor that they want to pay me because that is the only reason i can think that they would expect me to GIVE UP MY PAYING JOB to work for them. Fuck. So Aman gets all pissy and kicks me off of the editor position in an emotional fit and then gets the very busy deaf girl to take my place. The fuckizzle?

asdghjkfhda

i dont want to see him ever again. but i kinda have to. Damnit. You know, fuck it. im just going to be in a general pissy mood for a couple of weeks. I hate this shit, so much. High school isnt a place, it is a whole mindset. One that the people around me cant seem to let go of, not even the full grown men.

Too bad its not allowed to just kill people who piss me off, because that would be cool

gashes and gnashes

cutcutcutcutcutsliceslitcutdragbleedcrycutslice


im too fucked up to begin talking about it.

so happy

Blue
like water

Blue like heaven is
all of the time

I'm all right
I'm just gagging
on all the all right

I'm so happy
So happy

I'm in heaven
Yeah
heaven

Oh the season's come for opium
Mom...mom
Mom...mom
I'm so happy

I'm in heaven
Yeah heaven

Oh the seizures come
from opium

insufficient

Do you have a friend whom you love mucho? You hang out with this person register for the same classes and go out together at night and do fun things for the first time with one another and try your best to keep the other happy? That special close friend who you feel like you have known for much longer than you really have. Mine is a beautiful young woman who is very much sexual. The men all look at her and want her. She is strong and forceful and loud and demanding and gets what she wants. She doesnt take no for an answer and she commands the spotlight for many reasons including her vast sexuality and constant references to sex and sexual activities. She makes people want her and want to be around her. I like to be around her when other people arent because she becomes like me, quiet and hurt and unsure of the world and plans and the future. But i keep getting this jealously boiling to the top. I want attention too. I want someone to talk to me, even if i'm not the most forward aggressive girl in the room. I always seem to fall into these groups of attractive people who wince and look at me and i can see it in their eyes that they know i could never measure up. My friend has everything, all the attention of the boy she wants, the problem is she wants him to want her in a different way. Nothing but true all out, no holds barred, i-love-you-even-after-you-got-in-a-car-accident-and-destroyed-your-whole-body love. Romance novel love. At age twenty. She has him, wrapped around the stong seductive finger of hers but its not enough. And even so, the attenions of any male in the vicinity must be in her control as well. Which, because i am around her pretty much all the time, means i am commonly ignored to sit with myself or Omer, who is often equally ignored once another male comes on to the stage. And i'm so uglyjealous because i can't do that. My body isnt as enticing, my lips dont pucker quite as suggestively, my innuendo falls flat and my looks are never recieved with all eyes on her.

ive talked to much about this to myself.

MGM produced

Technicolor girls are always on the phone
talking about their homes
and the conversations continue endlessly.

Technicolor boys, transistor radios
blasting their treble tones
and the arguments are disputed after school,
in the parking lot as the teachers bend the rules.

Patiently you waited for a courting boy's embrace,
then everyone would know.
But the letter jacket wasn't yours to own
and it proves to be on temporary loan.

And as they all grow older the truth will be understood,
cause we never turn out the way we thought we would.


things just arent like they should be

your love has come down

Bless Death Cab for always being able to make me feel a little less alone. I think my mind has been a little frazzed the last month or so. Just enough to make me a little crazy for a while. I decided to calm myself down a bit, physically, emotionally and spiritually. I've dyed my hair again. Red, a natural reddish color. Which is relaxing for me. It means less "goth" questions and less generally assholerey. Stress is very much not my friend, but it is pretty much the only thing i have that makes what im doing feel real, or at least more real than my dreams. I kinda tried to explain my dreams to omer, but i dont think he really knew what i was saying. my dreams make it hard for me to tell which life i have is the real one. I fall asleep and wake up in a dream and in the dream i will fall asleep at the end and wake up here and this happens so often that its hard to keep track of which is which. They arent even a perfect world or anything that would let me makr one life as better than another. they are both my lives i just cant always remember when i said what to who where. when i feel good i mostly dont want to sleep and when i feel bad i dont want to sleep either because, what if i woke up and everything was still there, or wasnt?
reality is fleeting and temporary everyday for me. nothing is quite as solid for as "for sure" as i would want it to be. Someday, i'm hoping to meet the one person, be it dream or "reality" who makes one life worth living all the way through. This person could anchor me, one way or another, so i can always know where home was. I've been close once to even thinking that someone could be my lifejacket. I wasnt born this way, i know that. I didnt start forgetting which day it was until high school. But it feels like its been forever now. Hindsight is a funny thing. I wish i had a camera i could take with me in the shower for when i dye my hair red. The water is the axact shade of blood in bathwater. With the crimson liquid splashed all over the tub, the walls and my body, i look like a suicide girl gone wrong. I could take a few pictures, bloody and naked and nameless and call it my babtisml. i'm in debt. i'm awful with money. I cant keep track of it and the numbers just run over my head and i never am able to keep it anywhere in my thoughts for long. I hate money talk. I hate taking peoples money. I hate working on register. i hate collecting debts and i hate having my debts collected. I wish that i wasnt so bad with the idea of currency and how to use it for what i need. I am a compulsive buyer. I buy at the counter, i am talked into purchases, i tend to not think about anything when i buy buy buy. I am capitalist consummerism. I make our society work and i keep myself a nervous wreck with no way to survive. I want out of this house. Frankie promised me an out, but i dont see it and my mind is telling me lies about frankie and that would be back because frankie is pretty much my only trustworth friend or relative. maybe i'm just a bug, dreaming of people, building a tunnel or dirt house and living my week long life to its fullest. Im very tired and not to sure of what im typing our. i guess my hands just know where to go. the fuckers.