a little bit of a resurrection
my life journal: cutmedown








inclination


asking me to speak golden truths; whence i am surrounded by dripping, bleeding, black-black-black lies. only i ask myself to find truth. i ask myself to allocate the differences. all the while stepping over stepping stones. stepping, stepping, steep mountainsides that we climbed & they hated me. all of them always hated me; if only they knew how i would hate myself now, they never would have bothered.

& i am learning everyday. & i wish i had something to show for it. & how i want to show you my A papers. & how i want to grab the faces of so many pretty, pretty people. & how all that i really need is to vomit my insides out.

in a crystal clear pond, fed by a trickling stream of water, lined with diamonds. there is this bright orange gold-fish; swimming & swimming around all day. this pond is surrounded by flowers, by pink & green, by beauty. it's warm & the grass is soft & the grass is lush.

& i want - right now - to die & to never look back. & that is what i want [ right now. ]

no matter how i tell you my story it will still be my story. nothing will ever change it, the real true core of it. my hope is that something will happen, that someday i will be happy. that is my hope.


written on 2003-09-28 at 8:27 p.m.

she / lost