I would like to call someone a cunt bag today. Not for any reason, I would just like to do it.

There is a line in "What's Love Got to do with It", some chick says to tina, "You can't hide black eyes." all meaningful and whatnot ad for most of my teenage years I thought she meant that black people can't lie to other black people. I have no idea why.

It's a rough road in here. No reason to be sad, no reason to be finicky. I'm taking it out on one loved one in particular for no good reason. The pros outweigh the cons by a ton, yet still I sit  here besieged by my thoughts and an inability to move. I'm living in limbo, which is no way to be. i should be celebrating my freedom, walking in the sunshine and shit, not sitting here smoking in the apartment I don't smoke in and picking my nose feeling sorry for myself. I want someone to tell me to suck it up and knock it off but would it really help? Would it really make me smile? 

"Get me out of here. Take me away. Hold my hand in some foreign place miles away from me. "

Write. Write anything, just write. I am spewing it and spilling it on the page but it never makes it out of the book. I remember when I wrote for fun, I wrote because people read it. I liked knowing that my words were being read in japan and hong kong and germany and texas. Now, that safety is gone. I hate knowing that anyone could read what I have to say. I hate knowing that people will cut and paste it and use it as evidence for my life. I know it;s only a few people, but it's enough to freak me out. They have torn apart someone who has done nothing to deserve it. Someone who is just existing and while I have lost respect and don't like her very much, I still feel bad knowing that she's seen it and feels bad about it. I would rather they had written that she was a narcissistic, dishonest, negative human being. That I could get behind but her looks, her style? Not fair. 

I am standing at a fork in the road. On one side is a small hill, easily crossed with an attendant standing to help me if I trip, on the other is a mountain, treacherous and frightening that I must climb all on my own. I can invite people to cheer me on but that's abut it. I stand at the fork and i start to follow my gut up the steepest part of the mountain when my head and my hunger take over and lead me to the hill. I take the first step, knowing that I can turn back. It's light up here and easy but I keep looking over at the mountain, wishing I was there. i take a step back. I just back off the hill. I'm back at the fork. I walk to the base of the mountain and I'm happy. I;m hungry and I;m dirty but I'm happy. I look at the hill now as safety. The guide comes and takes my hand and leads me off the mountain. He walks me briskly up the hill telling me not to look back. He reminds me that on my way up the mountain I could slip and fall. He reminds me that I don't know what's on the other side or how long, if ever, it will take me to get there. I start crying. Tears falling. i want the mountain. He shakes his head, it's too late. I am on the conveyor belt and there's nowhere to go but forward. I think, "I'd rather have died trying to climb the mountain." And then I'm distracted by the guilded lilies he throws in my face.