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Broken Speech

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Oct. 16th, 2006 @ 07:06 pm
sure there was a lot of noise
but as the suv smashed into my car
all i could think was
'i've never been in a car crash before'

Oct. 16th, 2006 @ 11:45 am
every day i wear my alcoholic's anonymous sweatshirt
"wilson and smith
ezy duz it
one day at a time"

everyday is highs and low and i'm sick of crying and whimpering all the time. so all the days are good days.
i had a bit of a breakdown on thursday night
but i've been trying not to talk about it
i have body image issues, how original.

ezy duz it, one day at a time.

time to work on my term paper!

Sep. 25th, 2006 @ 07:48 pm
i have a lot of homework.
i really want to watch white oleander, or better yet read it. i could totally read it tomorrow if the school library has it.
i had a good time this weekend, maybe i act too victimized sometimes, but i've pretty much had it with being yelled at. it's taking away from who i am.

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that was half my weekend, the other half was work and parties and jesse s brown. i couldn't tell what i was doing in that picture, but i'm playing with my necklace. lolssssssss

i miss this girl
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more than words.
i wish she returned my calls. i need her. she's coming home soon though.


im going to go take a shower because i can't remember the last time i did.
i am claire's need to feel: still sick. ew. phlegm
today's background noise: its hard out here for a pimp

Sep. 2nd, 2006 @ 11:50 pm
No the doctors didn't tell you,
that you were dying.
They just collected their money,
And sent you on your way.
But you knew all along,
went on pretending nothing was wrong,
you said I will keep my focus, till the end.


i feel as if i've been on the verge of tears, literally, forever. i know that can't possibly be true.
work sucks but it makes me a better person. jeff said he'd beat up ross fields for me. jeff is in jail. i told him i could handle it. he told me all about how to take him down though. javier wasn't working so no one called me 'clarita'.
i've been listening to against me nonstop. before that i was listening to bob dylan nonstop.

ps fight club party tomorrow my place 7.30, be there.

Let this be the end.
Let this be the last song.
Let this be the end.
Let all be forgiven.
i am claire's need to feel: finished.
today's background noise: searching for a former clarity

every god/dess on my altar tonight Jan. 1st, 2006 @ 08:33 pm
I want to start over.
I ended 2005 with a day full of depression and hysteria and panic. I am starting over.
I want to start over.
I want to be new, I want to make resolutions, I want to keep resolutions.

I want to apologize and I want apologies. So in 2005 did I upset you? Did I hurt you? Even if I didn't mean to I would like to know. Tell me so I can apologize. I won't hold grudges because I'm starting over. Tell me how I offended you.

Imagine this picture: I tuck a letter into my kimono with my left hand. My claddagh ring glinting. My nails long and healthy finally. The Japanese letters disapear into the cherry blossoms. This is an explanation, this is an apology.
Other entries
» (No Subject)
ask me an anonymous question.

do it.
» she's a predator posing as a house pet
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» lame as hell
i'm home.

my dad spent all week saying things like:
"you're a failure"
"you don't try"
"you won't get into college"
"you'll never hold a job"
"i'm pulling you out of cathedral"
"your mother doesn't care about you"
"you're out of shape"
also:
"i'm proud of you"
"don't you believe i love you?"

i'm home.

i'm one sick kitty.

i got a four on the AP test. i AM a failure. how cute.

mmmmmm, i'm a nervy wreck.

okay. i should grow out of it i know. he won't take me out of school. i'm so teenagery, he said it and i was ready to kill myself. one hundred percent ready to kill myself. i'm so hormonal.

once there was a way to get back homeward
once there was a way to get back home
sleep pretty darling do not cry
and i will sing a lullaby

i'm so busy.
» this is the end
i'm leaving tomorrow. or really, i'm leaving sunday, but i'm going to my father's house tomorrow.
i think i'll be gone until saturday. i don't know what else to say.
i'm scared, i'm worried, i'm mad.
i have to shave my legs.

everything is all important and everything is insignificant. we are all trying to be stars but the stars are all dead, in the sky and in their swimming pools. we are all trying to be something dead and beautiful that will live forever.

i can't get this night out of my mind, i feel like it's my last night on earth.
i'm overreacting.

all of the sudden, i've grown up.
» (No Subject)
i want some taco bell, and i want some fight club, and i want my paycheck.

i wear my skinniest jeans with the cuffs rolled up everyday and i wear my white and pink tank tops, boystyle from walmart and cheapstyle from goodwill. i wear this same outfit all the time, i wear different things to work but i wear this at home.

last night kevin and i watched dawn of the dead. aaron mclane sleeps on orange silk sheets. he wanted me to play zombie roleplaying games and i said no because i have to leave and didn't want to ruin the game. i had to promise to come back and play and i will, but i was late coming home because i had to explain to the mclane-daltons about the lake and my father.

i almost hit a man's car last night and at the light he pulled up next to me and mouthed 'your're crazy!'. all i could say was 'im sorry'. i really didn't mean to.

i think we should start conducting zombie drills. maybe every thursday night should be zombie drill night. and we have to record how long after the initial attack it takes us to get armed and get to evan's.

the best picture of me ever.Collapse )

EDIT: Jesse is right. We watched dawn of the dead. Actually, we were going to see land of the dead but things like money got in the way.
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