08/01 Direct Link
ok i just read the bottom of this page and i have no idea what they're talkin about. am i suppose to like put one of those funny symbols in between each sentence? oh, and is anybody countin my words, or is that my job? help. as u can see i'm bein especially lazy with my "entry" (somehow calling it a "batch" just don't sound right; i mean, its cute and all, but it just makes me want a chocolate chip cookie, you know?) so anyways my philosophy is this: since first impressions are everything, i'm givin u my realness
08/02 Direct Link
I only believe in astrology when it says what I want to hear. Despite great skepticism yesterdayís prediction came true. I fell in love. Now I feel ill. Intrigued by some beautiful unknown, I feel painfully alive. Fear consumes me even now. ďDonít lookĒ I tell myself. Donít look into the eclipse or I will be forever blinded and unable to see anyone else ever again. Too late; my vision shifted. Nothing will ever be the same again. What is life without such beauty? How did I endure this bland existence before this moment? Was it better not to know?
08/03 Direct Link
He did not cook a batch for July 2008. I miss those cookies already. His were the best ones. Iím kind of picky like that. I want what I want or I want nothing at all. Iím not one to compromise. A lot of men have called me a bitch because I am so unyielding; assuming that I should not act as if I am deserving of better. Those who know me would disagree. Just a kibble of what real truth tasted like has shown to spoil more than a few who now live in the aftermath of their imprudence.
08/04 Direct Link
The insidious chatter is never-ending. Incomprehensible, nonsensical, and most of all unnerving. Silently Iím screaming with the decibel of a thousand voices:


I want to drown in the ocean of tears these eyes cry. My patience is strained. I abhor the thickness of ignorance that surrounds me. Oppressed by a society of stupidity that is unjustly empowered to dictate my life; I welcome death as my only reprieve. Truly with all my being I hate this place, this life, and this skin. I donít belong here. This cannot be real. I am trapped in a heinous illusion.
08/05 Direct Link
He speaks to me in a language only we share. His words like hands lifting off the paper and caressing my broken spirit. Serving life together separated by glass, barbed wire, and eternity. In my voice he cries out to a heartless creator that neither of us can understand. What kind of god would do such a thing? Placing the warmth of heaven before us to shiver outside its cold gates; blocking the existence of bliss we may never be allowed to feel. Have we not suffered enough? What of the retribution for a childís innocence that was never paid?
08/06 Direct Link
Why must I feel way? Like a rubber band stretched so taut it begins to crack, straining with all its existence to somehow remain in tact. When it is left alone, it is perfectly harmless. It is designed to be durable, and can be very useful when properly used. In the wrong hands, however, it can become a formidable weapon. Do we blame the rubber band when it is misused? No, we do not. We blame the sadistic, careless hands that either purposefully or ignorantly mishandle this simple gadget. Does anybody understand the way I feel like a rubber band?
08/07 Direct Link
I walked in sunlight I could not feel. The sky was so blue it looked surreal. I turn to the trees for a sign. Somehow Iíve developed some strange yet beautiful connection to them. It sounds crazy, I know. Iíve never been of accused of being stable. The wind blows silently and the leaves begin to whisper. They speak in a language one cannot hear, but instead only feel. It makes me ashamed to be human, the way our species infects mother earth like a cancer. Simple abundance to sustain us is not enough. In our gluttony, we rape her.
08/08 Direct Link
If today brings more of yesterday, I wonder why I bother to live another day. And yet quickly, today becomes the yesterday; and I find myself standing at tomorrowís dawn to ask this same question. People chide such perspectives, reciting overworked clichťs faded by ignorant tongues. Those people havenít lived my life. I have to wonder if they would have even made it this far. This is not a path worn and well-traveled that many venture to forge. The brier thickens with thorns of raw truths cutting deep; and leaves the soul traumatized and scarred. Still, I move forward. Why?
08/09 Direct Link
In my ignorance is shame that no words can express.

I profess to want one thing; only to find myself trapped in actions completely contrary to attaining that which I desire.

I know of Zen; to practice it is a beautiful thing.

I know that fasting would alleviate much of that which pollutes my system;
and to submit myself to such discipline would only serve to bring about deeper enlightenment.

What I do not know
is how to shake free these chains
that bind me to the defective thinking
and emotions that cripple me.

How I long to emulate you.
08/10 Direct Link
The permanence of words is written on the wet cement of a moment; to then be forever set in the concrete of an eternity. Nothing can erase their existence. One may ingeniously cover them, or artistically disguise their appearance. It is possible to undertake such extremes as to demolish the template on which those words are written. It often serves the conscious to conveniently forget the words it has created; developing an amnesia that blankets the mind to raw truth. In the end, however, the flicker of time which gave birth to that coherent string of syllables cannot be challenged.
08/11 Direct Link
I walk in the matrix of an illusion of somebody elseís creation. I wonder to myself what kind of god conceptualized such a beautiful contrast of heaven and hell. For what reason does this milieu exist? In my mere insignificance of the expansive universe I have the audacity to challenge His greatness. But with fierce defiance I am demanding an answer. If I must be subjected to the atrocities of this planet, as well as demons ravaging my brain, then at least tell me why. Why do you allow such suffering? The rationality of your seemingly cruel heartlessness eludes me.
08/12 Direct Link
I love the way my body feels achy from yesterdayís yoga. I love quiet afternoons in an empty house and the silence covered by fans blowing a cooling breeze through it. I feel so peaceful right now I could easily drop off into a dreamy slumber. But then I would be wasting this interlude unaware of the rare tranquility I am experiencing in the moment. It is the equivalence of floating in space and time as I watch the intricate designs dance behind my eyelids. This is the emulation of true happiness. Right here, right now. I wish it would last forever
08/13 Direct Link
Invisible girl do you really believe
that if you spray paint yourself neon
finally they will see?
that you are predestined to rise up
as a queen
as you lay in the darkness for lifeís opening

Invisible child left alone in the shadows
so forlorn, too far gone, innocence fully shattered
chasing dreams, silence screams
keeping her thoughts all scattered
itís not fair, no one cares, but so what,
does it matter?

Invisible madness infecting my brain
Imprisoned by sickness
that keeps me insane
I pray to be saved but I do so in vain
Invisible girl you do not have a name

God does not hear you
Therefore you do not exist
08/14 Direct Link
Iím searching frantically through the recesses of my brain for those perfected 100 words.
Where are they?
Only moments ago I had them so sleekly lined up in a row. My thoughts were fluid and concise then; designed in such a way as to hypnotize and mesmerize even the most affluent reader. Now Iím fumbling to spell single syllable words, as my dialect sounds as coherent as an expired happy hour bar fly come 3:00 in the morning. Maybe drinking would help. Not me, but you: my audience. Iím sure after a stiff one I might actually appear quite ingenious.
08/15 Direct Link
Standing on the verge of greatness, I forgot to be afraid. In that moment of suspended time I lost connection to a harsher truth. This place felt like home because of its familiarity. However many times I had been here before didn't matter; because this was the beginning of my long-awaited destiny. At long last the fruition of my soul shattering toil was coming into full harvest, finally! Only a small oversight was one so grossly neglected in that minuscule triumph of celebration: this was as close as I ever got to the true realization of my dreams, no further.
08/16 Direct Link
He was a magic man. Or perhaps he was more of a god; a deity too abstract for mere words. The most I could ever hope for to define his magnitude against ordinary man was through the measure of emotions that only he could evoke in me. Like the way his eyes always stripped me naked; making me want to hide but unable to move under his discerning gaze. It was maddening the way I felt so powerless. That loss of control to his domination made me fall even deeper under his spell. Only he could see the real me.
08/17 Direct Link
I love the smell of warm, fresh linens
I hate that neighborhood Laundromat

I love the silence midnight brings
I hate screaming at my kids for two hours
to get peace

I love that imaginative imp
running rampant in my brain
I hate the prison she lives in called me

I love the taste of chocolate
melting blissfully in my mouth
I hate my lack of self control
that keeps me chubby

I love the way I am free to hate
and not feel guilty or condemned
I hate the way I love you too much

Loneliness is killing me
08/18 Direct Link
Iíve never grown accustomed to the fear of rejection and of judgment I have learned to expect. Society uses associative distancing from that which they feel untouchable by, such as homelessness, drug addiction, mental illness, or even being a victim of violent crime. So long as they have nothing in common with such defectiveness, they may claim the illusion of superiority over those lesser types. How ironic is the admiration I receive for my inner strength; at how I defy their definition of what being homeless, a drug addict, mentally ill, or even a victim of violent crime really means.
08/19 Direct Link
I found my baby picture of when I was two.

I love that little girl,
still innocent
as to all that had already been stolen away
from her.

I love her resilience, and her stubborn spirit.

It would be years,
both long and short,
before even that would be beaten out of her.

Leaving behind the broken adult
fighting viciously to vindicate her;
to validate her existence,
even as there is no justifiable reason
why this need be.

Her very name speaks to her nobility;
she is properly called a queen.

Why do I find this so impossible to believe?
08/20 Direct Link
Like a mirage that sparkles in the desert, it offers to quench my thirst from the dry death of conformity. It beckons me to tell the secrets kept hidden deep inside. Blank space is a haven to the explicitly creative imagination. Giving endless birth to thoughts that only derelicts can think so as not to incriminate puritans; words that are read but not written are much safer. But writing is far more exhilarating with its dangerous component of revealing too much. The paper is a fairytale land to explore; this pen in hand has magical wings to fly me there.
08/21 Direct Link
Narrow is the vision of man who uses only his eyes to see. His view of the ocean is limited to the surface expanding to the horizon; accurate solely in calculated distance, flawed by restricted analysis. His one-dimensional perspective is flat, and unable to conceive the untold depth that lies beneath the surface of reality. He is crippled by his inability to conceive something far greater than that which is already observable. If there is a god I am grateful beyond words that I am no longer blinded by such fallacy. I have been miserably awakened to a beautiful consciousness.
08/22 Direct Link
I was contemplating a crescent moon in all of its quiet flawlessness; mesmerized by the unidentifiable colors of its glow against an indigo sky, and the illumination of a perfected silhouette of billowing clouds surrounding it. It is a stolen moment I routinely escape to on my brisk walk towards home. My youngest son and I are walking in silence when instinctually we pause. Further ahead my other children have stopped suddenly. They look frozen. It is a huge albino spider casting her web across the trees and bushes that have blocked our path. I am captured by such beauty.
08/23 Direct Link
I walk in a world in which I do not belong.
There is no place for me here.

If there was, I would be concerned.
I do not wish to be associated with such defectiveness.

I am ashamed to be human.

The way we treat each other, other species, and the planet we are sharing with them, is appalling.

I am the worst of hypocrites.
I fail to accept others as they are; because our being this way is not enough.

We are failing to aspire to achieve our greater selves.
08/24 Direct Link
With given effort, I could readily produce a more conservative view and make myself appealing to the some unknown upper crust elite. If only I would modify myself into whatever it is that is wanted from me, instead of belligerently shoving my true self in their faces. But here I am, insisting again on some profane universal right of being me.


I scream to an unwitting audience, involuntarily digesting my radically diverse and uncultured speech into their sterilized ears. I have gone too far with my menacing diabolical reasoning. Who am I to question anything?

08/25 Direct Link
It never ceases to amaze me as to the infinite knowledge that waits patiently for me to discover it. Truly I am blessed (in some non-religious context, of course) to be privy to the universe of unknowns. Each new lesson, both great and small, somehow changes me forever; shifting me, molding me towards a higher self; and leaving behinds seeds of inquisitiveness for me to cultivate into maturity. Lovingly I nurture and fuss over them, taking pride in their unique and unpredicted development. Maybe I should become a teacher; my love of education is unquestionable. Learning is the ultimate high.
08/26 Direct Link
Forgotten were the childhood indulgences that gave such pure and immeasurable joy.

As I floated blissfully in the clear, blue water,
I remembered a time of simplicity.
What I was feeling was priceless.

How could I have lost my way so easily?

My special nirvana,
my own private heaven,
and my personalized path
to indescribable inner peace;
it was overgrown with tangled weeds
and hidden beneath pile upon pile
of offensive, worthless excrement.

I had grossly neglected
this precious gift of mine:

the freedom to create happiness,
and my own power to execute
whatever plan I designed to achieve it.
08/27 Direct Link
Time has a way of escaping me. Forever I race to beat impossible deadlines, running on vapors until the next non-existent pit stop, in some crazy attempt to avoid inevitable consequences, that rely more upon fate and the current state of my competence; the latter being totally unpredictable and of which I am prisoner to. Still I manage to complete projects, if only by a hair, continue to forge on while ignoring my own physical limitations, and at least half the time I do evade greater pain by chasing the moment before it quickly leaves me gasping in its dust.
08/28 Direct Link
I sat in a room full of people and again I felt alone. It is not an unfamiliar feeling, but sometimes I wonder when I became so accustom to it. When did I stop longing to feel the connection? Where is the line I crossed that made me stop wishing to belong, and just want to feel comfortable being me? I treasure this value of self I only recently developed. For a lifetime I sought acceptance from others, only to find it in my own self. It seems to come at the expense of social banishment. I refuse to conform.
08/29 Direct Link
Walking home tonight we saw a huge rabbit sitting in front of a vacant house. This was so unusual it made the moment almost surreal. We stared at him, my sons and I. He stared back at us through one big, tranquil eye. Before I could dispel its authenticity, suddenly he hopped about; trying to engage some kittens next door in play. They sized him up for a minute before dashing away. He stretched in child pose and nibbled grass the way bunnies do. Luckily, he showed us where he lived. I could not be carting some lost bunny home.
08/30 Direct Link
What kind of monster am I? I try so hard not to be all that I detest. There are no words that console me. I can see and understand things in ways most cannot; and this will always make me more accountable. No matter how noble my attempts, the demons I must constantly battle, or the challenges I am forever up against; somehow I am guiltier than those who commit their offenses in ignorance. Desperately I try to apply what I know to how I act. I donít want to be the defective, broken adult regenerated from a shattered child.
08/31 Direct Link
It comes without warning. Suddenly, I am remembering some traumatic event that was better left forgotten. Like the first time I was tied to a steel bed in five point leather restraints. I was barely thirteen. Before that horrendous incident, my fragile mind had never conceived such an atrocity. I had refused to participate in their demoralizing group therapy. In my feeble attempt to seek refuge from mental hospital madness, I was tackled down by several jailors, dragged by my limbs to isolation, and forcibly tied to the bed. They shot me up with Thorazine and left me for dead.