(And a few days later, he found out that she had collapsed at school and was being hospitalised. She had stopped eating after that fateful Friday night, May 4th when her world crumbled but all the doors were open)
I like to read Verses That Hurt. I especially appreciate Anne Elliot's pages. They make me feel good because they're so twisted and thoughtful and what-not that I can forget about my life for a while. Katie L. took me to the mall today and we bought a Jem shirt. Jem and the Holograms... that was a cartoon from my childhood. The times that were happy, the times that I was ignorant and blissful. Joni Mitchell was right when she said that you don't know what you've got till it's gone. My lips are tingling. I wonder if that means anything. Today I got really scared in the middle of one of my classes. I started to think about what my plans for life were, and how I was gonna end up, and those thoughts weren't happy ones. I can't ever see myself getting old, and I used to think that meant I'd never get old, but I know that I probably will. I will probably be one of those lonely old ladies who lies on the streets shivering and begging for change, someone who most people wouldn't even take a second glance at, but maybe someone would feel sorry for. Jesus. Right now even a little bit of pity would feel good.
Right now the only things I have to keep me company are the spiders in my bed, the grickidis, and the gupadas. I don't want to say voodoo or voodoon or nothing like that, cos when you people see something like this, you always think "voodoo, voodoon"... what I'm talking about is African medicine. I sort of wish I had some Vodka right now but Travis has mine and I think he drank it all up anyway. He drank quite a large portion of it while I was in LA because he said he missed me. I wish everybody missed me so much that they'd risk taking 17 shots and getting alcohol poisoning. I guess for now I will just maintain in the slow lane on the road to recovery, and I don't want to take my meds anymore because they are worth shit to me. I'm still up and down and all over and I hate being this way. I would just like to live in a laundromat in Martinez and die in my sleep before I am 20. I feel really weird right now, like the chair that I am sitting in is all tilted like one side is floating, or maybe one side is sinking into the floor. Either way, it's not supposed to feel like this, and I want to know what the hell is going on, because it's kinda scaring me. Maybe I am losing my grip on reality. I hope so. I'd rather not live in the real world. I know exactly how to describe this feeling. It feels like I am in the dentist's chair, and they have pumped me full of Nitrous Oxide and I am kind of just floating through the atmosphere in a rotating chair. I really hope this is me losing my mind.
(And a big fat tear ran down her cheek and she could feel it land on her jeans and soak into them. No one can help her now)
It's cold here and I have to keep it down because it's late and my brother is asleep in the room next door. I feel like listening to cheesy 80's music. I was in Juxtapose today (a store in the mall) and they have this little niche there where you can sit and listen to music and Katie M. was sitting there with me showing me how to work this little jukebox thingie they have set up there, and the fourth song on the list was "Survivor" by Destiny's Child, which was kind of fitting of today. (Or maybe it wasn't, the only words I know to that song are: I'm a survivor!) But anyway, I definitely feel like today I survived something immense, something that probably should have done a lot less damage to my mind and spirit than it did. It ate a hole through me, but I didn't do anything drastic. Like a child, I am wishing that everyone who hears this story (from my mouth) will be proud of me. God, I am pathetic, constantly pining for positive reinforcement. Much like C.C. Bloom in Beaches who broke down whenever she wasn't getting enough attention. It ended her marriage, it ended everything. I think I wanna watch Groove right now. Even though it is about a rave, it is like a fairy tale to me. A fairy tale filled with beautiful lights, loving people, and a bittersweet ribbon of reality cutting through it all, but the edges laced with magic. Oh boy, I sound like a magazine movie reviewer who uses some sort of four-star rating system, only I don't use stars, I use like flowers or something. I vow from here and now to do the best that I can to never hurt anyone ever again. Karma is a truth, not only that, but it is a bitch. It will bite you in the ass and you will not be happy. You will be very sad. You will feel like you haven't felt in a long time. You will be annoyed by the plane flying low overhead and making a lot of noise. You will wonder where you put your Ibuprofen. You will want your eyes to stop burning and your nose to stop running. You hope that you will wake up tomorrow and you won't feel bad anymore. But you will. This will never go away. God hates you.