my sister bitched to me today about how shitty her life is. her boyfriend broke up with her. so she hooked up with one of her ex-boyfriends that night. boyfriend 1 gets pissed and tries to beat him up. one of them gets put in jail. her words: I get the short end of every fucking twig on like, a willow tree. Fuck my life. i love my sisters but they thrive on drama, me thinks. i'm enveloped in loneliness. i swear i'm going to fucking grow up to be a crazy cat lady. i'm gonna be one of those ladies who go out and then come back at night, gather my cats into one room and tell them how my night went. wahoo. haha. my aunt is moving in with me so i'm not like, taken in by the government or something. i dunno how that shit works but i don't want to move. i'm listening to African Chants. they are so cool... the artist is called Insingizi. check it. it's time for me to shower. i've got a hot date tonight. :) i'm just trying to make myself happy...

i don't know what day it is, but my birthday's coming up soon! hahaha. i think it's tuesday but fuck a ho if i'm right. last night me and steven got high and shot off fireworks. it was cute. and then we smoked another bowl and listened to Shpongle. it was so utterly amazing. we just layed on his hood, looking up at the moon in each other arms. by the way, if you check out Shpongle, get Are You Shpongled? it's so trippy. and in the good way. i swear i lived that shit! he spent the night but i had no desire to have sex with him. that usually happens when i'm high, really. i don't know why i'm saying this. i wouldn't even tell my best friends this. oh well. so apparently this reverend guy dressed up as a hobo and had a cup and syringes and sat in front of his church. he said he was disappointed with how many people ignored him and/or were bitter towards him. i think he's a fucking douchebag. no matter how "christianly" you are, if you see a guy in tattered clothes, probably drunk, with SYRINGES, you will probably turn a blind eye. it's nice to help, but sometimes there's just a danger area you shouldn't get involved with. i think maybe he shouldn't be so disappointed. i think that, maybe, he went about it the wrong way. and i think maybe i feel sorry for his congregation because i bet you a whole 5 dollars that they got lectured in his little testimony/speech whatever you call it. grown people! adults! getting lectured for not helping! i can just imagine it. "the bible says help thy neighbor (im not sure if it says that, haha), but all of you, EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU, ignored me, that poor hobo out there! repent! repent and be saved! the power of christ compels you!" i dunno. maybe he was less of a douchebag irl. anyways.

chicago is so fucking glorious. oh my god. i love it so much. it is so overwhelmingly beautiful in a totally fucked up way. i need society. i love people. Modest Mouse is my new favorite band. Little Motel is my new favorite song. check out We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank. it's my life atm. more about chicago. i have pictures from there. and everytime i look at them my stomach gets tighter because, even though i just got back last night, i miss it so very much. walking around downtown at night when everything seems so perfect and well put together. when everything seems so lively and amazing! i stayed out until the sun rose just walking around with my sister and loving life to my heart's extent. i was so unbearably happy. and now i come home to this empty house with empty promises of my mom coming home. to empty promises of my sister staying with me. she went back to indiana to live with her boyfriend. mike checked in for a few minutes and gave me some money. i'm not a fucking charity case but i guess it's nice to be able to go grocery shopping without steven paying for everything. i've been lying a lot and i think i'm ready to let people in because i'm running out of lies, or i can't tell the difference between my lies and my truth. or my lies and my lies. nothing is true to me anymore. i'm tired of being let down and i know this is just teenage angst but i'm starting to accept these feelings because there isn't an end in sight. i have a confession. but i'm not ready.

i set up a tent in my backyard to get away from things. it's supposed to fit a family of 16, so it's huge, although i don't know anyone with a family of 16... so i'm living in there. clever, huh? it's hot and sticky and rains at night, but i'd rather take a mildew-y bed than a house that is unbearably silent with pain seeping through the cracks in the walls. i can't stand this anymore. tonight is my last night to get fucked up for a week or so. i am so addicted but i don't want help. i love drugs. i love everything about drugs. i hate myself when i'm not on drugs. i wanna get high. i wanna get drunk. i wanna roll. i wanna get FUCKED UP. my weed stash ran dry yesterday. i didn't freak out as bad as i thought i would... i know i said i'd stop, but i've been getting high ever since. it's the cocaine and ecstasy that i stopped and i can't function. literally. i hate everything and everyone. i'm bitter. i'm moody. i snap so easily. fuck i hate this so much. steven told me he loved me. we were both incredibly high though. i don't think he meant it... god. i hope he did. i just want his attention and affection and i'll live and breath and die off of it. i've never been in love before. (who falls in love at the age of 14?) i asked my mom that once. she said it wasn't impossible, but it was highly unlikely. i think she thinks i love steven. i think i think i love steven. i think i love steven. i might love steven. nah. i don't. hahaha. wow. i really don't. that boy really is amazing though. i don't know what i'd do without him. he controls me in all the right ways. he hinders me when i get too out of control. he cares about me. he cares about me. not like you, you dirty fuckers. he cares about me! he loves me! steven loves me! :) i think i'm going crazy,...

lucine amara. i think that's the most beautiful name ever. i'm going by that now. i'll find a new obsession later. "in the end everything will be okay. if it isn't okay- it isn't the end." there's not a lot to say, really. i'm have withdrawals and i've begun to hate myself. fuckyouallgodfucking DAMNIT. sorry/

i dunno. i had stuff to say and now i don't. i'm in a good mood, surprisesurprise, but i feel like i need more everybody's on the verge of pissing me off. gah.

i hate my old entries. i deleted some. i'll go back and delete some more. i can't explain how unhappy this makes me. god DAMN IT.

i think i've already posted today, i'm not sure.. but i just need to vent. I think I'm really fucked up. for some reason, EVERY person I've EVER met, I think they're harboring a great, deep secret from me. and only me. And that just makes me want to rip them to pieces and uncover the truth even more. I hunger for truth. I think it's because i'm so skeptical to trust first. I want to SCREAM, "I know what it's like!! You can trust me!!!" but... like always, I sit back quietly and become an innocent bystander to people's welcoming path of insanity. I crave perfection, when I am far from it myself. I want so badly to believe that I will lead a normal life, BUT!!! I have BIG plans, though I couldn't tell you them. Yet. Time will test all. Everyone has FUCKED UP expectations for me, but my mom especially. Holy high standards!! I'm so scared that I will fail her, so I refrain myself from doing anything to get her hopes up. It's even gotten to the point where I PURPOSELY get bad GRADES so she won't expect anything more. I don't believe in myself and I PAY FOR IT EVERYDAY. It's funny, isn't it? How a simple sentence can turn into an extraordinary rant. How a simple phrase can turn into a mantra: "Dear Friend: Don't Ever Give Up." I have a big, big dilemma at the moment, and I can't ignore it and it sure as fuck ain't going away. I need help from someone but I'm not sure who to ask. I want to post it on here but it would take a lot of opening up. I might later if I go insane. There's not much longer to go....

i feel like i've been viciously awake for days. didn't sleep last night. insomnia is kicking in again. goodbye sleep-filled nights and calmed emotions. hello weed and benadryl. i finished the bukowski book. i want to say it was amazing, but i'm not sure what i think of it, yet. could be the best - or worst - poetry book i've ever read. people as flowers such singing's going on in the streets- the people look like flowers at last the police have turned in their badges the army has shredded its uniforms and weapons. there isn't any need for jails or newspapers or madhouses or locks on the doors. a woman rushes through my door. TAKE ME! LOVE ME! she screams. she's as beautiful as a cigar after a steak dinner. I take her. but after she leaves I feel odd I lock the door go to the desk and take the pistol from the drawer. it has its own sense of love. LOVE! LOVE! LOVE! the crowd sings in the streets. I fire through the window glass cutting my face and arms. I get a 12-year-old boy an old man with a beard and a lovely young girl something like a lilac. the crowd stops singing to look at me. I stand in the broken window the blood on my face. "this," I yell at them, "is in the defense of the poverty of self and in defense of the freedom not to love!" "leave him alone," somebody says, "he is insane, he has lived the bad life for too long." I walk into the kitchen sit down and pour a glass of whiskey. I decide that the only definition of Truth (which changes) is that it is that thing or act or belief which the crowd rejects. there is a pounding at my door. it is the same woman again. she is as beautiful as finding a fat green frog in the garden. I have 2 bullets left and use them both. nothing in the air but clouds. nothing in the air but rain. each man's life too short to find meaning and all the books almost a waste. I sit and listen to them singing I sit and listen to them. Steven got his own apartment. it's glorious, wonderful, marvelous. and also quite roomy. i hope he decides he wants to stay. so, call me technology stupid, but i just discovered the Shuffle button on itunes. oh my. it has done wonders for me. i've rediscovered music that i haven't listened to in years. (or one or two, ha!) therefore explaining why i am re-in-love with Rites of Spring, Reversal of Man, 1905 and Index For Potential Suicide. those bands did fucking wonders for me when i was 11 and 12. am ever so happy. vacation is coming up soon. the good thing about my parents being seperated is two vacations, ha! (see also: two christmases, two birthdays, two easters, etc..) with my mom, we're either going to Mexico, Florida, or just somewhere local and getting like, 400 bucks each to shop with. either is fine with me. with my dad, we're going to Chicago, no doubt, hands down. I'm so excited, i love Chicago. it feels like my home everytime i step foot inside the city limits. god, i'm so excited. by the way, i realize how selfish it sounded what with me being happy my parents were seperated because i get two of each holiday, but oh well. i wouldn't want them back together for the world, anyways. (although i could do without their significant others for the time being. ah well, so it goes.) the birthday's comin up soon, oh baby baby. july 20, here i come. although i guess i shouldn't get too excited, last year i was entirely pumped and got let down so bad. everybody seemed to not care near as much as i did about my birthday, and i had to go babysit for my aunt (who didnt even tell me happy birthday) and accused me of looking up porn on her computer. fucking bitch. well, i guess i should get ready and try to get out of this shitastic mood before company arrives. so long!

god. i am so disappointed. i don't even know why. it's terrible terrible feeling. anyways, yesterday Stephanie, steph's friend, steven and i went swimming in this creek. it wasn't so bad, i had to go in my bra and steven's boxers coz i was totally unprepared and stephanie's friend needed my shorts, but the water was nice and it was a good time UNTILLLLL i was getting ready to get out and steven was sitting behind me and rubbing my leg and then he just stopped and was like "what.. the fuck is that?" and i was like wot d00d, and he pulled on something, and i felt a sharp pain in my leg so i was like wtf dawg that hurts, so i stood up and it was a fucking LEECH. A LEECH GUYS. EWWW. i'll admit, i overreacted, but holy nastiness. i freaked out. so bad. i ran out of the creek and up the hill to the car. steven and stephanie followed me and tried to pull it off, but it was so utterly disgusted. i can't even stand picking ticks off of my self, let alone a giant, juicy, nasty black leech. god. ewww. so eventually they held me down and held a flame to it, although that apparently didn't work so stephanie just grabbed it and ripped it off. holy ow. i bitched for like ten more minutes and then got over it. but goddamn. a leech. *shudders* on a lighter note, i got my Charles Bukowski book yesterday. it's a book of new poems, The People Look Like Flowers At Last. hope i like it, i guess. well. i should try to go to bed. I have to go to work in 5 hours. guh. bye guise.