Wait, wait--
HERE IT COMES...!
September 25, '06
9:47 AM
oh i'm so tired why do I do this all the time unload my self-hatred onto the page
I will practise I will make this work I will become the best writer ever well maybe not the best writer but I would like to be
I don't want to be a teacher left alone in the dark grading papers of younger bright lights
I don't want to be the person in the corner who writes and writes and writes and will never improve
I wish it was easier for me
I hate talking about food and going to prom is a bitch and I don't know what to do when I see someone better than me
what do I do now what do I do now I leave and go home and cry in the bathroom just like I've wanted to be just like I've always wanted to do
I am never alone there is always someone better than you but what do I do about it how do I let it not get to my head how do I deal with this crap how do I gain the maturity to keep myself at a distance whilst stoking my inner fires of rage
I don't know what I want to do I know what I want to do I want to be a photographer I want to be a poet I want to be the first woman president and patron of the arts I don't know what I want to do
I don't know how I'm going to have myself alone in the dark with the lights on next door
my hand's cramping I can't write anymore I am better than anyone else in the world except for a few people I am a loser I cannot leave myself alone I can't write myself I am a freakin loser I can't write anymore and that's why my hand is cramping because of the melodramaticness of it all that will only be exposed through pain and sorrow and rage and the clicking of your teeth against the bone of your jaw
they have to be pulled and I don't know what to do I don't know what to do so what do I do
I make out with the nearest hot model I make myself a sandwich I go in the corner and cry
I don't know what to do to make a definitive stand against myself
I need to achieve nirvana and then maybe this pain will go away I don't know what to do
I'm going to drift in the nebulous part of the maze and get lost and find myself and all my suffering unleashed into the inner parts of my brain where no one will ever find it again and that's how I'll meditate I'll wander through a maze writing and hurting and writing till my hand falls off and I can't write anymore
I can write better than before
this rage and self-hatred is turning into sadness and pain and affection I need to be affectionate towards myself but I don't know what I need
don't force yourself to be affectionate if you want to scream in the mirror and call yourself a bitch then be bitchy call yourself names call yourself a murderer write monologues and go to the silence span go home and cry and then maybe you'll be better in the morning it's a fifty-fifty chance go flip the coin
I'm going up I'm going upwards anymore and everything is suddenly so clear now in my eyes is this what it means to be enlightened I can see the veins in my hands I don't need my glasses anymore and I'll call myself junior I can call myself Raedyn L. without saying 'I hate you" anymore anymore anymore
I will be all right I think I'll be all right now I'm going to be all right with my clear eyes and bright vision I feel better already
so plain this is me I am plain I don't know what to do so I'm waiting for sunday to come the master day I will be all right I will be all right I will be all right
okay I won't think about dead rock stars or dying whales or sympathy anymore I will think about dying but I'll be all right I'll be all right now I am okay I can't believe I'm okay
I'm fine I'm fine I'm fine
I'm sophisticated blue
Take a picture of yourself, this is you when you're enlightened.
This hurts I am open to everything bleeding and broken and new like a package of cards I am new again I am freely born of my own mist and torture I walk out of the mist free like a bird free like the air I breathe circling in circles and traps without ever getting caught I'm all right I'm all right I'm all right.
10:03AM
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This is actually pretty close to what I write in those notebooks I've got. Tons and tons of self-pitying, inarticulate crap, with maybe a few paragraphs' worth of good stuff.