unitards for the masses

This past weekend, I went to San Marcos to visit some friends from high school. After the first day, I started feeling surprisingly bitchy. I kept telling myself its just PMS or something, ignore it and try to have a freaking good time, you cunt. The feeling persisted all weekend and through Monday and Tuesday and on into today, Wednesday, when I finally had an epiphany.

I realized that I have been holding onto this nearly subconscious (and extremely juvenile) belief that if I just wait here, in Killeen, then eventually all my friends will return to me and things will be as they once were. Seeing how everyone has changed and moved on forced me to face the fact that they are never coming back to this shithole. That really fucks with my head because the belief that everything will be okay if I just sit still and wait was one of my pillars of comfort. I leaned on that pillar when my first boyfriend broke up with me in 1999. the last thing he said before his hurried exit was a promise that he would come back. I think a part of me is still waiting for him to pull his old, blue truck into my driveway and reassure me that he wasn't just trying to use me for sex, that he actually valued me as a person, and show me how that could be possible even when all the evidence points to the contrary. Of course I know that that is an absurd thought- last I heard he was happily married and had 5 stepchildren.

The truth is, my friends are never coming back. When people told me that high school was the best time of my life, I laughed at them. Now I realize how right they were, and I see how much time I wasted. I try not to think too much about how great high school was compared to where I am now because if I look too closely at the things that were happening in my life at that point, and notice that I wasn't ever really that close to any of my friends, then I see how truly pathetic my whole existence has been. The lifting of the illusion is enough to cause projectile vomiting. And I regret not killing myself in 2001 when I had the chance. I could've "done something drastic" before I got weighed down with all this adult bullshit. I'm far too mature and responsible for that now.

I guess I am left with but one option: live. I'll build up other comforting pillars of smoke to rest against, I'll continue to lie to myself about how much better things will be just over the next hill, and I'll try to appear content and sane to lend comfort to those around me. That's what everyone else does, right?

On a happier note, I did have fun with my friends in San Marcos. I met new people (most of whom I liked, but even the ones I didn't like had entertainment value), I found out that drinking straight scotch helps me with my digestive problems, I got to go to Austin (yay Toy Joy!!). Also, I got to eat Marie-France's Best Potatoes EVAR. I think I may have to become a potato junkie and just show up at odd times of night and try to trade potatoes for money, sex, and stolen valuables. And I look forward to seeing them again, even if it means destroying some of my carefully constructed vapor crutches. After the weeping and vomiting, I can always build more.

corporate gumball mouse

our society is incapable of producing a decent human being. people betray and people are wrong. i know i'm not a decent human being. i like the idea that our race is like a plague of locusts that will overtake and destroy the planet, making it ready for new lifeforces. i also like the idea that our society is swiftly collapsing and when it does we will be forced to assume a hunter/gatherer lifestyle. something more in tune with mother nature or another fruity, nonsensical, personification. like gaia from captain planet, maybe. when that happens, we'll all have to embrace anarchy and only the strong will survive. i'll probably die early on, assuming this happens during my lifetime. i'll be glad for that, too, because i expect that mostly the assholes will survive and i'd rather not be a part of a society comprised entirely of illiterate apemen (and women). i'm already part of a community where they seem to be in the majority.

there's this song by the jazz butcher conspiracy about a guy who murders his girlfriend and buries her in an onion field becuase she's too good and pure for the world. sometimes i daydream about having a boyfriend who, like the character in the song, recognizes my purity and consequent incompatibility with the rest of society. i think i'd like him to drown me in tepid rosewater or something else tragicly romantic before desecrating and eviscerating my corpse. i wouldn't like to be buried in an onion field, though. i'd rather be weighted and thrown to the hagfish in the ocean, where my mass could be recycled as fuel for those slimy creatures and become a part of their ecosystem. of course none of this will ever happen because i'm not actually too pure or too good for this world and my perceived discordance with the rest of society is probably just a construct of my own imagination or a consequence of spending too many years in isolation.

i don't think humans are inherently evil, but i do believe that there is an inherent wrong in the human mind, something akin to original sin, that causes people to behave the way they do. this flaw makes me sad, but it is comforting to realize that i am not immune.

prefer a crunchy ambassador

i went to target today to get clothes. i do not like clothes shopping now. i really really do not. i used to like it back when i was cute and i had a nice ass and everything looked cute on me. between trying on things i could look at myslef in the mirror and say "why, you look mighty cute!" i never did, but it was at least a possibility. i bought $127 dollars worth of underwear. it was horrible. i didn't know my bra size so i had to try everything on. i tried some push up bras, but they made me feel like i was being pushed, you know, up. i didn't have anyone there to turn to and say "are my boobs too up in this?" i don't have any girl friends and you can't ask a guy that kind of question. i don't think boobs are ever too up for a guy and he'd have to be in drag to get into the changing room anyway. it was a traumatic experience and i need time to sulk. i have to go back out tomorrow to forage for a sweater. i may be scarred for life.

shoe of margarine (ammended)

i got drunk last night after being sober for a year. i am so veryvery sick right now. ugh....

i had to go lay down for a bit, but i'm gonna finish this dammit!

me and this guy got drunk at my house and we watched movies on vhs because i don't have a dvd player anymore. it was okay, though, because i was too drunk to really see what was on the tv anyways. i think i showed him all my science books (i am such a dork). one of them was off the shelf this morning and i have a vague recollection of looking at it. i have a lot of vague recollections. i'm pretty sure i had a good time, even though i'm really freaking sick right now. thanks guy for getting drunk with me.

sexy world economy

i went to the plagiarism festival in austin today. it was so so cool! there weren't a whole lot of people there and i liked that. me and walter just wandered around in the enchanted forest and looked at art that was lying about. there were a whole bunch of really giant spiders left over from the halloween party and we met a kid named Zap. Walter had his comic strips up. He cut up the sunday funnies and rearranged them into new and hilarious concoctions. does anyone remember "little man out to stand in the dinner"? that one was there. the other art was cool, too. melted plastic legs dangling from trees, dolls nailed to stuff, pirhana flowers, a really neat painting of a young homer simpson, and some rip offs of andy warhol. after we left the festival we went to walter and jean's apartment and watched a suckdog video. i liked the part about the mayonaise fist fucker, but lisa and that french guy kept getting naked and rolling in poo. that was really gross. i don't care for poo much at all. call me a prude if you like, but you will never find me rolling in poo for any reason, not even for sex. i think that's about the only thing i wouldn't even want to try (besides anal sex with a horse). me and walter and jean all went to eat at the kerbey lane cafe. i also wore my copyright infringement is you best entertainment value shirt that is so big its more like a tunic. and walter wore his urinal shirt. who was that guy who did the urinal? i forget. we talked about the fur-covered teacup, too. i love that thing.

back away slowly

i broke up with john. again. that's the third time now, i think. i did it 3 weeks ago, but i didn't want to say anything in case it didn't take. he kept reminding me of my mother. the things he'd say and do, and the way i was around him. i noticed that i would change the clothes i was wearing, the music in my car, the thoughts in my head, and hide various other aspects of myself before i went to see him. that was unsettling. i do things like that for my mother, but i shouldn't have to do that for my boyfriend. i shouldn't have to question whether he would accept me for who i am or not. he's been in rehab with the christian house of prayer for almost a year now and he's a much better person for it. he has a jobby and he's way less violent now. i tried the religious conversion thing. i tried it, i really really did try to be all christian. i went to church everyday, i prayed at least twice a day. i contacted god, i accepted jesus, the whole shebang. i'm not religious anymore. i wasn't happy there. i couldn't reconcile my experiences with christian beliefs, and the praying was really starting to freak me out. when you pray, you open up a channel of communication to another world. the ultimate goal is to contact god, but sometimes he's not the one waiting at the other end. its a delicate and dangerous process. in the end, i couldn't be a christian, it just isn't who i am. for awhile i thought i might be able to make things work with john, even if we didn't share the same beliefs. but i thought about what it would be like to go back to him, to marry him again- which is what i would have to do if i ever wanted to get laid again according to his religion- and i just couldn't do it. i couldn't imagine going back and having things be different. i couldn't imagine a life with john without the alcohol and all the horrible things. and just as soon as i broke up with him, he started drinking again. which leads me to believe that i was right- there is no life with john that doesn't include alcohol. i can imagine that he'd stay sober for awhile, but the first time we had a really serious argument he'd probably be back drinking. and then calling me up at 2 am, slurring about how much he misses me to make me feel guilty. i hope he's able to quit again and have a good life with some super conservative christian lady who can be a good wife to him, but it isn't me. he's the first person i've broken up with ever and i try not to think about it too much cause it usually sounds like "what the fuck have i done?" in my head. and then i have to do a ritual bloodletting, which is okay cause it feeds my leech minions.

little libertine

I read this:

I used to work the night shift at a factory over the summer (I'm 19), and this 30-year-old coworker managed to hook up on myspace at least a few times.

Apparently it's not that hard, as he wasn't a real catch or anything. He was fat, came into work stoned/drunk a lot, didn't pay child support... and let this vagrant chick stay at his apartment for a couple days and eventually fucked her with a large baking potato. So I guess if you want to try it, more power to ya. Those myspace chicks can't be all that choosy.

And then I made these:

 

Its my photo essay on MySpace romance.