Everybody is looking for niche to belong to. The hierarchic tendencies of man can never be passed without notice in any given situation. The way to succeed is to show up for one, if you aren't there to make presence physically in the first place, what good are you? Never telling anybody to do anything is another key factor in all of this. To avoid hierarchic positions entirely, never let anybody on to the fact that they indeed can or could be top dog, allow people to assume the position they want to hold with the company they keep.
FUCK OFF NOSEY! this isn't your shit, so get out of it. February 2008 February 6, 2008 My G-Dec Fender Amplifier and Telecaster Fender Deluxe Series Mexican Guitar were stolen and the guitar was sold to the pawn shop for $175, the amp was pawned for $50. To Eds Pawn on Main Street. We just found them today at the Pawn shop. The perpetrator was just who I thought it would be. Logan Rowe. He has been staying at our house helping with the yard and house work we have been doing. I have never liked him. He is a scandalous and unscrupulous wretch of a man. He stole and pawned my equipment for drug money, I am sure of it. He has tracks and a long history of narcotics abuse and addiction. He is currently on the second step at AA. I have witnessed him lying to his own sponsor over the phone about where he is and what he is doing. The mans life is based entirely on lies and theft, he is not a productive member in our society and I feel he should be locked up and not allowed to be a member of society on any level. He should not be allowed to do the things that he does. I am incredibly hurt by the notion that somebody could have the guts enough to go and steal some of my only valuable possessions in this world. I worked hard for that guitar. That is the only reason I exposed myself to the mass media. The only reason I was willing to whore myself out to MTV. It is a trophy of what I did, and what I can do. Whenever I found my guitar and amp missing on the 3rd of this month, I cried. I felt outraged and raped. My memories are stored in that instrument. My future and my past. My 15minuetes of fame. My childhood, and the road that leads from adolescence to the trials of adulthood. All this is what that one simple instrument represents to me. I put a lot of store into it, but merely because it is worth that to me. Possessions don't really gain power until somebody puts sweat and effort into either acquiring or creating said object. I have put plenty of energy into that instrument, and the Amp as well. We went to file the police report. Still no sign of Logan. What a relief...hopefully I won't have to see him until the court date. Oh if the world were so kind. -Mercy February 7, 2008 So we learned last night that Logan also took the Sunn Amp of Atlas's. Great huh? I would say not. Last night yet another police report was filed and yet another 5 years are going to be added to Logan Rowe's imprisonment. Funny how that works, and if Logan leaves the state with a warrant, or now 3 or so, on his head he will be facing larger charges because of it. They, lhe courts and law enforcement, will have to extradite him and, yes the process will take longer, but Logan will face heavier charges. That dumbass. Muddy and Atlas are playing Interstellar Overdrive or Astronomy Dominae, poorly at the moment, they have a lot of practice ahead of them. I mean, a lot. If they want to be able to play at Wakarusa they will have to practice more often then they do. And pay attention to what they are doing, maybe count, you know, musical things. They need more criticism. Not to be a rag, but man, their heads are too big, and their actual sound is too small and out of time. If Muddy would start counting it would be different. And well, for that matter if Atlas would to, and maybe add some boost to the way he plays the guitar, it's too itsy bitsy sounding. Like a crying mouse. He makes a better second guitarist. To be brutally honest. If I told these kids this myself they would give me shit for not being a musician myself, but they may not realize, but I have been playing, and playing professionally for years more than they. -Mercy February 9, 2008 Well, life goes on....sadly, gladly, relentlessly. Oh how it tares me apart. I suppose that is what it does to everybody else as well. I try not to pay too much attention to the finer atrocities in my stay here on earth....but sometimes...it is hard to turn away. I stare into the lights of existence like moth to the porch lamp. I get too close and I scorch my wings. The room is filled with the sounds of bootleg recordings and late night talk shows. Stale tobacco and heroine. Laying on my bed next to a man that says he loves me and the few things I possess in my name. Earned with my labour and am always on the verge of loosing. For instance, the other day Atlas tried to convince me that he helped me pay for my phone, when I recall quite vividly that I wrote a $160.00 check out for the phone and the plan. It's both in memory and paper. He took me there (to the phone place) but he did not actually go in with me and help me pay. I don't know where he comes up with these lies. I just don't understand it. Why does he think he can suddenly lay claim to my possessions? Like my computer, phone, guitar, and amp? He has no right, I don't lay claim to his possessions. Why does he mine? I have paid rent for 2 years now, and he still tells me that I don't. I haven't been for the past three months, which is wrong I know, but I have been giving either him, or his mother money every month before. I have been their best tenant ever. Why do I have to take all of the heavy blows? Okay, I can't drive, I don't own a car, I am only 17, but still...I do more for these people than anybody else they have let to live in this house, since I met him. To put it simply, I feel that I am being abused here. I feel that I am not receiving the gratitude I deserve. Atlas is constantly informing me that I am a succubus, then if I leave, he freaks out and is telling me about how much he needs me and wants me. Oh dear, life is stupid. I don't mean to be so bitchy, but my life has been stressful as of late. You could only guess as to why. I have been lying about Atlas' habit, saying he is better and all, just so I may relieve the stress on the entire situation. Things are getting better, in a slow monotonous way. Everything is improved from the state of decay this little world I live in was a month ago. I have been practicing more, even when I cook, I try to put a little good energy into everything that enters, or is around Atlas. He is currently impervious to everything right now though. Nodding out.... listening to white man blues....so passe. How could he be so cliché? Is that actually possible? My life reminds me of a bad indie film. Like I actually might see myself on IFC one of these days. Fuckin A! Maybe I should do what everybody is always telling me to do, that is the ones that actually read, is go out and write a few books. I am a decent writer, no worse than I could become, you can only get better as life goes on. A very glass half full way to look at it. Still better than any alternative. -Mercy February 12, 2008 Well, I am coughing up purple. Is that bad? I hope not, because I don't intend on going to the hospital any time soon. I don't like being sick. It feels bad. Today I saw Logan, he came by the house while I was taking a nap...that bastard woke me up. I called the cops to tell them that I saw him, then Logan came back by. That time I made him stay at my house and I talked to the 911 lady while he was on my front porch. The cops came, hoping to arrest him, but he doesn't have any warrants...they are all still pending. That pissed me off, and apparently the cops were angry about it too. One of them stayed while they waited for Logan to come back with somebody with a license to drive his friends car, because he didn't have his license on him. The cop said that they will get a kick start on the warrant though....they want him to go down too apparently. It would be awesome to get my money back. Otherwise, I am sick, coughing, sneezing, fevering, etc. The usual for sickness. My abdomen feels like I have been both punching it and I have been doing nothing but crunches for the past two days. It sucks. Who knew coughing could get you such a workout? All I have to do is cough and I have a fucking 6-pack. As I write I am breaking away to sneeze, blow my nose, and of course, cough. I have Sonic Youth to keep me company. That's good. I like them. I have TV, Loki, Isis, and Sonic Youth, I am one fucking cool ass cat. Acheww! You want some too? -Mercy February 15, 2008 Ate dinner with my dad and some chick he picked up on one of thoughs online dating services. She was nice, from Canada and healthy. Still sick, and now Atlas is getting the bug too. Apparently this cough is just the beginning of it. Soon to follow is more fever and nausea as well. Super! We have been trying to take it easy this past week, with my being sick and all. I need to paint a room though, I need to do something. I feel so useless no doing anything. I have $50 now, that helps a little. I can turn my phone on and then give the rest of the money to Atlas for my “get-my-amp-out-of-pawn” fund. AKA: the g.m.a.o.o.p.f. Try to pronounce it, I dare you. Just drank some Robitussin, I hate the stuff, ever since I drank a whole two bottles of it and tripped my balls off, then I discovered that I didn't have to drink it, I could've just gotten powdered dextromethoraphan HBr, and not had to deal with the taste of cough syrup. It seems since then I have been off of cough syrups. In fact it seems that since the dawn of pharmaceutical medication that cough syrups always have narcotic side affects. It's pretty damn cool if you ask me. I will always be able to get high so long as people continue to get sick. Fuckin a. Watching Atlas play video games, he is currently playing a game made after the movie, and named as such, “King Arthur”. It looks pretty cool, the graphics aren't terrible and you get to switch between all of the knights at every turn. I guess that is all I have been doing lately. My life is fairly dull at the moment. -Mercyg February 17, 2008 Watching cheap kung fu movies, lazy sundays are great. I just don't want to do anything. I should clean house and do laundry and well, get my ass up. I took a bath, that's good. Right? -Mercy February 21, 2008 I have been working. Linoleum, office work, house cleaning, cooking, and doing the daily things that make me happy. I am hungry all of the time. I can't stop my need to feed. I am poor. We all need more money right now. But alas, such things come with time and patience. Neither of which do I have much of. At least if I choose. Choice, the best thing to have ever plagued mankind. I love being able to choose freely. Although most of my choices are poor and probably not the best, I still love making my choices. For I am free and able to do so. -Mercy
So.... Walking around my room, talking to myself, playing out scenario's to the mirror (currently my most attentive audience), trying to avoid eye contact with myself, building up anger, resentment and general anxiety. Why do I do this to myself? Do other people? Fuck me. I can't even focus on this.
Painted the town white for the night. Not a bad choice I don't think, easily visible, but sure did it get EVERYWHERE, hand, jacket, bag..... I am not absolutely sure as to what I wrote on thoughs large stone canvas's, but I sure as hell hope they weren't entirely too ridiculous. The reason I set forth on this escapde last night was because of two antagonizers, 1) I am tired of looking at tags where it's somebody's fucking name, fuck. It is so fucking boring, and uninteresting, and doesn't mean shit. 2) I like asking questions. So to you, if you feel like painting my town your choice of color, well, please, say something when you defile public property (or otherwise), I want to think when I look at your artwork, (or in my case poetry).
Sitting down about to eat, looking at them bow their heads, "It's time to pray to god" they said, "In order to be heaven worthy." Stare around, and feel so odd, for not believing in their silly god. "Pray now and worship" No, fuck your bullshit. Next they want me to go to church, Then they want me to give 10%. They want to go the lurch They want me to give up my common sense. They want me to have no sex, They want me to have no opinion. They want me to walk "His" steps They want me to be no woman. Well..... I will dance, I will sing, I will romance, I will fling, My idealism's to the masses, I will burn down and crash their fascist asses. With words and action, I dislike their factions Of men against women, Of man against nature, Turning good intention into some dissension To their made up place. If your good you get to see it's face. Taking love twisting it, Taking life, fucking it. Save my soul, I dare you to, Next time I'll stake you to your own pew.
Look at it, a couple sitting in public, an inch from the others face, gazing intently and lovingly into the other's eyes. There is nothing wrong with it. Nothing at all. Isn't it GOOD to see people enjoying each other and life in general? Still, I find those who find such public displays of affection absolutely appalling, what is wrong with them? And furthermore, what is wrong with the lovers who are afraid to be loving in the company of others? What has caused humanity to shirk away from loving freely and considering emotion embarrassing? I mention this because I noticed it first in myself, and I now recognize the same behavior in my friends and strangers I come across on the street, parties, restaurants, where ever it may be, it seems that we are afraid to love each other. Would you rather hate your neighbor? Would that be more pleasurable? Why not hug, kiss, and relish the company of that person? (unless your neighbor is a complete mother fucker, Evangelical church going, bourgeoisie ass, then....fantasize about burning his house down and scheme up ways to do it without carrying any consequences....just a thought.) In myself it has always been this presupposed need to be "tough", and I combat it everyday. I just don't want to seem vulnerable to the world, but I am certainly not afraid to kiss somebody that I feel strong affection for, particularly if given the chance, in front of the nation and the gossips of the town. Sometimes we don't want to be touched, and I of all people understand this, but what about the times when you see somebody you don't know, who obviously could use a hug....do you just let them sit there wallowing in despair? (Most people I know do) Or do you go ahead and extend a hand, some humanitarianism, and offer them support? Perhaps if we look at this more often it will change. I don't know, I am just talking out of my ass. Forgive me and all my folly's.
Trying to understand why I am here. Staring blankly at the wall before me. Listening to aged, jaded men talk about their love of Ford Trucks. People are so bland when they drink. Why they even bother in the first place to try to attempt some sort of intelligent thought is entirely beyond me. The girls are all spinning around hiding their imperfections behind masks of happiness and giving thanks to whoever invented the black light. Such sad girls, lost identities, aggression pent up due to the abuse they allow from the people in their lives. They strive for stressful environments, without them they are dead inside. All of the little boys trying so hard to get the attention they never received from their mothers. Trying to satisfy their Napoleon complexes with dollar bills and manipulative women. They never realize, that every time they go up to the stage to tip me, that they lose...I have their dollar and soon will have more, and they will leave empty in pocket and heart. Nearly as empty as the woman who has conned him out of his hard earned pay. It's a hollow occupation. It has no true definition. No actual purpose. Entirely fantastic, superficial, and plastic. We are the Plastic Fantastic Lovers. ----------------------------------------------------------- She walks out of the car, kissing me goodbye, telling me she'll be safe and she'll call me when she gets off of work. I look at her with fear in my eyes, thinking, “Have I just lost her to this monster?” And the monster winks it's neon lights “Yes.”, as I watch her trot to the door. I lay awake at home waiting anxiously for her to arrive. Hopefully she'll be happy and well-paid. Hell, maybe she'll bring cigarettes, but I know how it will be when she gets home. “Honey,” she will plead, “Can I have some smack? I don't feel too good. Work sucked....Please?” And due to my inability to say no to her pain, and her courage to do what she does, “Hold on, it's almost ready.” Only moments later, we are high, watching late night television. I go down to the kitchen to make some grub, whilst she hurls in the bathroom. I feel a surging agony every time I hear her drown in her own bile. I mask the sound with the running sink water. She has gotten so small.... I go back to the bedroom and around me I find the signs of self-deprecation in every crevice. Undone laundry from months ago, the sheets covered in unknown substances, mostly semen and food crumbs. Liter jugs filled to the brim with urine, left beneath the bed and strategically cornered away in less-than-noticeable places. We watch the television, not touching, not really speaking. Do more smack, and then we nod off until hell resumes again. ___________________________________________________ Where am I? Where did I come from? How did I get here? I WANT TO KILL MYSELF. The first thoughts that cross my mind now that I am figuring these things out.... “Alaric? Hey! You are Alaric Moore, can you hear me? Yes, you peed on me.” I still can't speak, so I ate...Acid. Okay. Bad trip? Yes. That was what it was. Psychotic break number six. I remember now. “What day is it?”, I ask. “It's July 5th, 2008...Man, you went crazy, you kept jumping up trying to run away, I had to hold you down.” Oh fuck. I missed a day. White, Black, Colored, You, Me, Together, Forever. Well, now I am alive again. My insides hurt a lot. More heroine....I feel better. Got to the bottom of that. Oh, I have to go back to work... fuck.
FUCK OFF NOSEY! This Isn't Your Shit So Get Out Of It. October, 2008 October 3, 2008 Well I finally have the pc back. Atlas and I are not together currently, this will change by the end of the month. If he does indeed decide to go to Cali for the international Rainbow Gathering this year. I can't fucking wait, I am so fucking excited to go home. I hope everything ends up being okay in the end. Atlas was dead and in a coma for a min, then I left him to move into the “Universe City”, It is a pretty ridiculous place to live, but it works out for the best in the end. Ah, life, what a beautiful thing. I discovered today that I have Hepatitis C, on the 13th I have to go to the doc to get myself checked out some more to see how advanced my disease is and get started on treatment, I am terrified. At least it is curable. I won't ALWAYS have this disease, but they did have to report me to the CDC. But, I can still have sex and I won't infect anybody. And somehow Atlas doesn't have it. That lucky fucking bastard. I am off of the Heroine now, a whole month needle-free. I have gained weight, I look healthy for a change...it's nice as fuck. I love it. : ) I have been hanging out with this boy named Kevin for a minute now. He is REALLY good in bed, and he likes me a lot. He want's me to have his babies. Oh yeah, on that note, I might also be knocked up too, I need to take a pregnancy test pretty soon. So I can go and get an abortion, I am all about supporting stem cell research. HELL'S YEA!!! I like my new residence, it is enjoyable here, nobody is out to get me or anything like that. I am drug free, I am surrounded by artists and people of the like mind as myself. We are really just a bunch of Anarchist's to be completely honest, but most of them won't admit it, too cliché. I am tempted to let my heart loose here. I just spent the past 24 hours Rolling, drinking, dancing, attempting sleep. Then Atlas came to my window to talk to me and bring me this very special piece of equipment I am using currently. It's nice to have it back. We went to breakfast and I ate a days worth of food in 3 minutes. I really have been eating a whole hell of a lot more than usual. And I feel fat. Oh well, life is cool. -Mercy IT'S COOL IT'S COOL, MY MOMMA TOLD ME DON'T BE SCARED, LIFE IS FUCKING AWESOME. -lcd soundsystem October 4, 2008 I just got off of work, and it was a long boring night, until I found new ways to entertain myself. My own personal form of “artistic epilepsy”. It's great. Kevin came and picked me up, he is currently laying down next to me, fast asleep. I think I may be pregnant with his kid. I don't know. These women keep telling me I am knocked up, and I have been showing all of the traditional behaviors and tell-tale signs of pregnancy. But hell, I can be a supporter of Stem Cell Research. Though Kevin really does want a kid of his own, I am too young for that right now. Atlas said that if I am prego with somebody else's child he will take care of it, because he loves me that much. He really does love me, and I him, but damn.... It is all so confusing I don't think I am able to straighten it all out right now. I like feeling free and able to do what I want without having to “check-in” with anybody. I suppose it is nice to have somebody who cares about you and will always be there for you, no-matter what! Nonetheless, independence is something I haven't had in some time, and I am certainly enjoying it, as it were. Well, I am going to smoke a cigarette and go to bed. I only got 3hrs, maybe less, today in shut-eye time. “Yawn!!!!” -Mercy NO ONE CAN MAKE YOU FEEL INFEROIR WITHOUT YOUR CONSENT. -Eleanor Roosevelt October 5, 2008 I was arrested today for “prohibited performance”, I was sitting on somebody's lap, with my shirt off. Yay, that TOTALLY makes me a criminal. My bail was $393, luckily enough, in a bad and good way, Kat was arrested as well like 35 min. later, and the guy she was sitting on bailed us BOTH out. She wanted me to go hang out with him, but I didn't, I really am way too freaked out for that shit. And they were going to be smoking Ice, I don't do well with methamphetamine's either. It was nice when Kevin showed up to get me out, dude had already done it, but still. He was completely prepared to get my happy ass out of jail. Now I have court on the 22nd of October. Fuck Me. The two cops that arrested me wouldn't tell me what I was being arrested for until I was literally inside the Jail cell. As well, they handcuffed me and escorted me out of the club, handcuffed, all the way through to the front of the club. Everybody saw me, and I left with my dignity nonetheless. Still.... When I got inside the building, they took my picture, I gave them a nice pearly one, it IS a picture. Took down my information, put me in the cell. I counted my money, called EVERYBODY I could remember the numbers of, wrote. Had to deal with a very passed out, plump, tramazapaned out red-neck lady, who had REALLY bad gas. And my only conscious company, a black cricket, who was, needless to say, unentertaining. Then Kat showed up, and it was, Oh fuck, You too? Yes, isn't life awesome like that? And the cops didn't understand, our job is really hard if we don't touch them, it's almost impossible to make money if we aren't willing to touch, or be touched. 'Cause those other bitches are hoes, and that is our competition. The whole reason why this shit is happening is because J.T., the owner of our competitor clubs, has been complaining about us to the cops, and probably paying them as well. We are a mere beer bar, but we have more customer's than his liquor bars, not because we are hookers, but because we are more attractive, classier, etc. He wishes to have us shut down. He's a fucker though, everybody who has ever had to work for him, hates him. He has sex with his strippers, and he lets them all get away with way too much shit. I hate it. Life is stupid. -Mercy ...AND THUS I BECAME A MADMAN. -Kahlil Gibran October 7 , 2008 I am back at home, how nice. I talked to Atlas some more today. I think he is stalking me or something. Oh well. Kevin said it wouldn't work out with us, but I think it could, and he should give me a chance to get him back to being interesting again. Being a homebody is NOT his destiny, he could be out doing wonderful things. Brandon is asleep on my bed, while I am listening to Modest Mouse on www.pandora.com and I am having a pretty good night now, despite the Hep C and the whole, “I was arrested this week for sitting on somebody's lap topless” bit. But shit, LIFE HAPPENS, and I am dealing pretty damn well despite the odds. At least that is my opinion. Everybody else that sees me daily seems to agree. My dad keeps coming in here asking me for dollars so he can buy beer, he is so drunk. It is silly. He says he was worried about me this weekend, which I think is nice to know. It's funny to think that I am more responsible than my dad is sometimes, that I have more common sense socially than my own 53 year old father. But he has sense in other ways I don't. I love my dad no matter what. My mother too. I hope they feel the same way about me. I don't know how to communicate really serious issue's with them sometimes, because everytime I have tried they have turned me away as if I was a demon. My dad tried to institutionalize me once, my mom kicked me out of the house when I was 15. Yea, great fun. So reaching out to them for me has always been a pretty fruitless effort. Yet, I survive. Brandon apparently is straight, I thought he was a little gay at least, but everybody wants to fuck him. Just like I get that too. It gets annoying when everybody you know wants to have sex with you. Why? Why can't they just be your friend? Oh well, we desired ones flock together. It is safe when we all understand where we are coming from with our experience with other people. I am going to find food to eat. Maybe I'll get something for the jail bird in my bed. He is so sleepy, poor boy. But life is cruel to us all especially when it comes to where you are going to sleep? Why should a comfortable resting place be so hard to acquire? Isn't it like a basic NEED? This system is fucked. It's now 2.43 pm, and last night I made out with the boy who fell asleep in my bed. It seemed to me that I was really turning him on. He kept telling me that he loved kissing me, he loves my clit, and well,that I was absolutely beautiful. That makes me feel really good. I think he is really good looking too, and he is really smart and we have a lot in common, but I am shy about saying these things. It's weird how I seem to attract the ones everybody else wants. Sorry for being so egotistical, it's just the pattern repeats itself over and over again. As well as people think I am some sort of “heartbreaker”. What is this all about? What kind of person am I growing to be? Evil? Good? Human? Hopefully the latter overrides the rest. -Mercy OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES ARE SO MUCH MORE INTERESTING, 'CUZ THEY AIN'T MINE. -Modest Mouse October 17, 2008 My life has turned into a regular Cirque du Freque. I brought an FBI agent to the house and he hooked up with Vanessa, a girl I committed to Griffin once, who hated me, but now loves me.She needed to get laid. I got the internet turned off because Cox internet found out that I was downloading Indiana Jones (a copyrighted film) to my pc illegally offline. But I have fixed that for the most part. I am glad that the internet is off myself. Now I can focus on writing a little more. I suppose. I had sex with Atlas the other night, he took me out to dinner and we had cheap parking lot sex. It was enthralling I have to admit. I still do love him. I can be myself around him, he adores me. We ARE meant to be. I told Kevin I would be his girlfriend. I am going to break his heart in a week. I have planned on it. I just didn't want to do it quite yet, he can still serve a purpose, and the sex is great. Can't argue that logic. So I suppose I have become an evil person, but nobody seems to have noticed, I can keep a secret well. Nobody knows exactly what I have been up to but me. For the first time in a while, I have been able to do what I want, when I want. Yet I feel completely empty inside. I feel dead in so many ways. I turned my heart off. It's going to take a while to turn back on. I haven't been entirely alone in a while. Even right now Rai is in the room sleeping on my bed. And here at 09:00 I am supposed to be going out to my dads with Doug, but it is 05:51 right now. Then at 17:00 I have to go to work. Damn, life is busy sometimes. I have been thinking too much and not writing enough. I have had so much insanity going on inside of me. It's not right. My mother and my sister Cynarra have been having an argument over my Facebook page online. It's ridiculous, my mother wants me to go to college in Colorado and to move in with her. I don't know what to do, everybody seems to think it's a good idea. But I DON'T WANT TO YET. Is that a good enough reason? Probably not very intelligent on my part, but I don't want to. The other day I took a personality test this Psychologist gave me, (lots of questions), and she concluded that I am an ENTP type personality. I read the profile, and I match it entirely. It is eerie. Oh, I am NOT knocked up. I am so glad of that, but I am out of birth control. So I have to be more careful in bed now. I missed my Doctor's appointment on the 13th, I am almost afraid to treat my disease, I don't want to know when I am going to die. I bought fish, one gold fish named Persephone and one black moor fish named Hades. I, out of all of the residents in this house with animals take care of mine the best I notice. I don't know what that shows of my personality, but I think it is a good thing. Suprisingly enough I am also the youngest, yet I seem to be one of the more responsible ones here. I am honest about most everything, I pay my bills full and on time, and my animals, (Mercury and my two fish), are very happy, clean, and fed creatures. Can I have a cookie now? Too bad nobody will do that for me, notice the great way I treat the animals in my life and perhaps key it to the way the other people here do. Too bad not everybody sees that I am the only one who has ever deep cleaned the kitchen, or even cleans my room regularly. Doesn't that say SOMETHING? Well I need to go to bed. I can't stay up forever now can I? Now it is 17:21, I am going to work in an hour. I didn't go to work with my dad. I I -Mercy WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES IT MAKE IF O'RION IS IN THE HEAVENS OR PAINTED IN THE FIRMAMENT OF THE SOUL? -Ralph Waldo Emmerson
FUCK OFF NOSEY! this isn't your shit, so get out of it. July, 2008 July 8, 2008 I tripped really hard on the 4th. I blacked out. I thought my cats were fleas. I peed on Atlas and didn't know about it for 4 hours. I seriously considered killing myself. I learned a lot, and I feel better for it. I am going to stop shooting up completely. I have no reason for it. I am not really that addicted. I am just going to feel a little icky for a few days. It's mostly will power anyway. I don't need it, and I know that. All it does is take my money and make me more paranoid than I already am. Who needs that? Nobody I tell you. My mom is going to buy me a bus ticket up to Colorado for mid-August so that I can come home and get myself together for a few days. She knows I need to come home for a minute, get comfortable with myself again. I love her so much. She is perceptive, and I am so thankful that she can feel how much I miss her and Colorado. All I can think about is how much I want to come home for even a little while. I miss her and Kendra and Samantha so much. It's nearly unbearable. Work has been going all right. I really don't like it all of the time. It gets boring real quick. I am going to try and find some other job during the week waiting tables or something. That way I can keep my top on. I don't really completely enjoy rubbing my tit's in strange men's faces all of the time. I don't entirely enjoy being a sex object. Donna and I have become good friends as of late. She is a very good friend I think. I love her because I can tell her exactly what is composed of my life and she will not think any less of me. We went swimming together on the 5th. We had goat cheese, matzos and cherries. It was great fun. I took pictures of her for her new beau. He lives in San Francisco at the moment, (he is in the military, apparently he is in charge of a lot of the men, he does air-traffic control). She really loves him. I hope he treats her better than all of her ex's have. She deserves so much better than she has been given. Atlas's agoraphobia is starting to become very irritating to me. I don't like not being able to go and do things with him as a couple. He never takes me out or surprises me, there isn't very much romance in our relationship. He has never bought me flowers and chocolate. I don't know why that bother's me, but it does. I yearn for a little flirtation occasionally. Not just the serious bullshit we are always dealing with. It's 2:17 am. Last night I stayed up until 6:30 am. Way too late. I have been keeping bad hours lately. I prefer to be awake during the day time... but sometimes that's impossible. Especially when you work the hours I do. I haven't been puking anymore, and I've been eating a lot. It feels good to becoming healthy again. I like being in good health. I think I am gaining weight again. Which is also good. On that note, I need to take my birth control. I forgot to take it yesterday. Oops. Can't be doing that. I don't have a phone of my own right now...again. I hate that. I am going to go get internet and a phone plan at Cricket. It will be like $65/month. It's a great deal, and it's unlimited. Unlimited talk, text, multimedia messaging, everything. I am so glad that this company came to Oklahoma. They have it in Canon City too. Their coverage isn't like AT&T's or anything like that, but still, it's a phone that's cheap and that is the most important part, having a phone that I can finally afford. I find that I am feeling like my life is bounding out of my control. I can't save money. I am all alone it feels. But I will survive. I know it. I will stop the smack and I will get it back together. I only do it twice a day, and I only do $5 worth at a time anyway. All I'll have is a headache, and extra anxiety. That won't kill me. Not at all. My dad is really mean to me. He doesn't think that I am responsible enough. Although I pay rent, buy all of the groceries in the house,(Atlas seems incapable of buying food, I don't get it), I go to work, and I am only 18. He is angry at me for not working for him. For not letting him abuse me. How does that make me irresponsible? He is the one that broke into my house and cussed me out for not going to work when I was clearly ill, he's the one that has repeatedly harassed and threatened Atlas's life. He is the one that has a very obvious problem with alcohol. It hurts me to think that my own father won't try to help me do better in life because he can't get over himself. It really hurts to think that throughout the rest of his life, I will never know what it is to have a dad that want's to help you. All I have asked of him is to give me the airstream that he hasn't used or even tried to improve in seven years. I want a daddy that can love me and not just use me against his wives and for his business. All I am to him is another commodity. Atlas woke up for a minute, apparently my typing irritate's him. His brain injury is why he can even tell that I am typing. I would think he wouldn't be able to hear my typing through his own snoring, but alas I am not as lucky. The day's and night's of late have been very stressful, I dislike it. My house is absolutely filthy. It hasn't been cleaned in weeks, perhaps a month. There is a ton of dirty laundry in our bedroom, and a ton of dirty dishes in the kitchen. The counter's are sticky, the floor is messy. But he won't help me clean, so why bother? All he does is cause more mess for me to have to clean. Atlas has this habit where he pees into to containers, I.e., plastic liter's, bottles, etc. And then he leaves them in the bedroom laying about for days. I counted it all up, I found 8 liter's of his urine in our bedroom. He won't go downstairs even to pee. He needs therapy. I don't like having to be his mommy all of the time. It's not my job to clean up his urine after him. In fact I have very openly refused. It is a disgusting, and vile habit of his, that I don't know how to break. I need a whip for him so that he will be more productive. He tells me that I am lazy, I am the only one in this house who has managed to have a job at all times the ENTIRE time I have been here. I am more responsible than he. I deserve more respect than I am given. I have given him thousands of dollars. I don't owe anybody anything right now. Only Yvonne this months rent. That is all. The world is against me, and I against it. I am stronger than this, I am going to get it together, and I have been. I have my permit to drive, I just need to take the test, and tomorrow I am going to the library to pick up the Federal Aid forms I need for school. I am going to start going to Oklahoma University by 2009. No but's, and's, or if's. Just period. I can't wait to start school again. It is so exciting. I hope I get in. It will be so cool to be learning and making friends again. I love learning, and I love school when geared at really learning. It will be such a big change in my life, school. I love just day dreaming about what it will be like. I think I am going to go into Psychology. That is what I am good at. I am good with people and knowing about how they tick, and there is always more to know about a person or people's. Well I guess I am supposed to go to sleep now. I really don't want to. I would rather type all night. And explain every little thing that is going on In my life. I could do that for hours. I love writing. I love expressing myself freely to a being that is unbiased and non-prejudiced. Someone who will never respond to me, tell me I am stupid, laugh at me, tell me I am rash, or try to lay claim to my thoughts and possessions. Atlas always wants to own what I have. I don't think that is fair. He doesn't own me or any of my things. He has become so much more controlling lately than he ever has been. I don't like it. It makes me nervous. Like at work, thoughs men want to control me too. I don't like being controlled. Nobody owns me. I am a free woman. Why do they act like they own me? Just because I love them, or they can give me money to get a lapdance, or just see my tit's. It's ridiculous. Someday everything will be okay. I don't have to live a rough life anymore. I know what not to do. I can be comfortable. I don't have to struggle nearly as much as I did. Life is rough, I have learned that. And it always will be. We all know this, except for few that have it easy, and thoughs people suck. Like Donna's ex-friend Della. She has a house paid in full, she has a nice car, she doesn't have to work, everything of hers is paid for by mummy or daddy. But she still tries to make it out like her life is some terribly difficult thing. All she does is create drama, fuck every man that walks, and drink. She is a complete alcoholic. I don't like alcoholic's. I don't like addicts. I don't want to be one either. I don't have to be. It is my choice. And I am making it not to be. When I was tripping I had to poo, and I did a lot of pooing. I remember the things I said while I was on the toilet, here, listen.... “Mother Isis calls out for her unborn child down the corridor towards some well known fate.” “World, all that it is that you do, all effort that you make, all food that you enjoy, all of the life that you take, waste, and whither away. Watch I, as I defecate, the pain, the agony, the guilt of all years gone by. Tell me, as a mad woman, why do I act thus? Because of you and the atrocities you allow. Because of the terrors you feed. The war that you breed. Peace time is only a door towards wartime, sex is only followed by over population. Ignorance is only followed by turmoil and hatred. I take in all and digest, so that the maggots may clean the mess that you have made. For without maggots and flies to make them, the world would always smell of the rotten stench that you create.” My trip was odd. I blacked out for 6-7 hours. My vocabulary was reduced to 5 words for some time, “Black, white, coloured. You and me together forever. You, Me. I have to pee.” That was the majority of what I said. I do remember having sex with Atlas. I thought his penis was a mushroom then a pickle. I didn't even realize that it was a penis. I thought the cats were fleas or something and that I was creating them. I thought that I could go back to earlier in the evening when everything was light outside by just connecting myself from the bed to the lamp. I was completely nuts for 7 hours. Thank god Atlas was here to babysit me, or else it would have been very bad. I could have done something that would send me to griffin for a nice long while, or jail, or something. Only destiny knows the alternatives. Okay, now it is 3:47 am. I really should go to sleep. -Mercy July 9, 2008 I had a terrifying dream last night. I don't know exactly what it means to me, but the symbolism is very clear. I dreamt that I was in a school in Oklahoma City, the weather was on television. Gary England was informing us of the 6 F5 tornadoes and F3 tornadoes surrounding the metro, particularly the area in the city I was in. I could see three of the tornadoes plainly through an upstairs window and I was terrified to see that they were clearly headed towards the school, and to where I was. There were no places to go and seek shelter. No underground havens in which to refuge. Atlas and my dad were there, and I was pleading with them to take me with them back to Norman, and inevitably safety. They were about to leave without me. My dad and Atlas were deep in conversation with an older woman from Chicago about architecture in areas of water, I.e. New Orleans, Amsterdam, and Venice. They were standing at a point where we could see buildings that had been taken up by the river and where more than half of all of the structures on this particular street were submerged. Completely air tight so as to not allow the water inside the buildings. I remember distinctly the woman from Chicago mentioning fishing for Crawdads, which made me think she was of creole descent. The television warned us all to aim for cover as the storms were coming in closer. Still My dad and Atlas made no effort to help me find cover and they left in their safe and very mobile vehicles to Norman, leaving me to my fate. It occurred to me in my dream as to how I ended up in this school that I did not attend in Oklahoma City, in the midst of a very catastrophic storm. I recalled that Atlas and my dad wanted me to come up to the city with them to speak to the woman from Chicago. I never wanted to be there in the first place. They had brought me to death's gate and refused to take me home. That was my dream. Before I went to sleep last night Atlas bitched at me about events from last summer. When we went to Bonoroo and to the Gathering in Arkansas. He says that he only left me in Arkansas for a day and that when he showed up and I was scared and all of his drugs were gone and the tent was being slept in by other people that I ruined his life nearly. He left me in the woods with nearly nothing for 7days and nights. He did leave me with pot and hash, and ketamine. I was alone in the woods without anybody familiar around me for a week with a thousand jonesing hippies. I was given Acid and after hearing every single person I came in contact with complain about wanting pot, I shared. I couldn't help it. I was tripping. I wanted to share. I had something nobody else did, that everybody else wanted. How else was I supposed to find somebody to help take care of me? Atlas told me that he would be back in a day. I waited 3 days, and then gave up, he was gone for a week. I was all alone in the woods. I did nothing wrong. I was scared and abandoned. It seems though that all of his problems are my fault though. He forgets that I saved his life as well. Last night he said that he should have left me there. But he couldn't. He got so fucking dope sick that I had to drive us back home, without a drivers license, no windshield wipers, in the rain, and I don't know how to properly drive a standard truck. I also hadn't slept in two days and was re-dosed with acid right before we left. Still, I got us home without killing us. I saved his fucking life. He was shitting himself and puking and fainting the entire time, and with his hep c, without getting the right medical aid, or the drug, would have killed him. But even then, I still am the witch. Even then I still am the root of sin. It's not fair. The people who have witnessed this abuse believe that I am right. So I know I am righted in feeling the way I do. This morning Atlas told me he is going to pawn you again. I don't seem to have a choice, it's either pawn you, or get kicked out for not letting him lay claim on my only valuable possession. He said that if I didn't let him pawn the pc I could go and live out at my dad's and he won't give two shit's about me. That really hurt. Especially for the first thing in the morning that you hear. I won't say anything back. Because he will only deny everything and say that I owe him. For the mushrooms that I gave away on the fourth and traded for acid. For the mistake I made. I am given no mercy. It seems my job to give mercy, and to take all of the bullshit that comes with being nice to anybody. He hasn't bought groceries in months. He hasn't given his mother money. I have given him nearly all of the money that I have earned, except for maybe a few hundred dollars, and grocery money. Everything else goes to his enormous dope habit, and his mom. I haven't even been able to get myself nail polish, or razors, little things that I would like to have sometimes. I am a girl. Well enough bitching. I am just hurt that is all. He just came back with news of internet and a new phone for us. We can get both for $200 and then $75/month. And we also will get a $100 rebate. That should be manageable. I need to come up with the money for that this weekend. So then I can be online again. Yippi! I have been training the pc to recognize my voice. So that when I am being extra lazy I can just dictate to the pc what I want it to say. It's not a bad deal. It's a good way to write stories. Less typing and more imagining the story. Then I can go back and edit what I did. Today has been all right. I am really intent on going to school at some point. It would be so nice to be back in gear. I really want to get some education so that I can have a future. I am intelligent enough for that. I have taken over Tim's old room. It's the south eastern most room in the house on the first floor. I like it best, I am alone and Atlas doesn't bother me while I am down here. It is nice. I like being alone a lot. But I never am anymore. It seems like I always have some type of company. I don't really have my own room is the thing. I just sort of move about to places that are secluded and that I like. I liked this room quite a bit, but I have been kicked out of it a lot. It seems like nobody is going to move in here anytime soon, so it is probably all right if I hang out in here until that time. It can't hurt anybody can it? I am tired. I need to take a bath. I cleaned quite a bit of house today, but I still haven't done dishes, I don't think I have really done dishes in a month or so. It's mostly because Atlas won't help me at all. And now we don't have any dish soap, I have no idea where it all went. We had a whole thing of it just last week. Atlas is mean. I am trying to stay out of his way so that he won't be angry with me. So maybe if I am not around him all of the time he'll be happier with himself. I really don't know what to do. I guess I just suck. I don't like myself very much right now. Now I know I am not the devil, neither am I perfect. I bitch a lot within these pages, but that is because I can't tell anybody else how I feel, because if I do they will try to intervene, and this is my lesson of love to learn. It is hard to do when you are strong headed, my mom told me something important yesterday on the phone. Don't mistake love for abuse. The, “You don't love me if you don't let me hurt you” syndrome. In a way I think that is what is going on between Atlas and I. I need to fix that. It's 11:58 pm now. I should get up and go upstairs and see what it is that Atlas is up too. I think he is asleep. I've been fucking around with the pc and my guitar for a few hours now. I suppose it is time to stop for the night. I just sang and recorded a few songs. That was fun. I guess. Not much to do. I also listened to the music from my Gramma Wanda's wake last year. That was actually a good time for me in a way because I was still around a lot of people at the time. I still hung out with people that I loved instead of always hermiting inside this stinky house. Just, Atlas doesn't like it when I go and hang out with people. He is afraid that I will say bad things or run away. It's like he is my fucking keeper. He seems to need as much control over me as my dad desires. What is it with people and controlling others? I don't seem to need to control anybody else? All I ask is to be able to control myself. Is that so much to ask for? The right to be one's own boss. To be allowed to go places on one's own free time and to be able to experience at least some of what the world has to offer? I never said they can't come with me, in fact I am always inviting Atlas to come and play with me when I go to play. But he never does come and play and he always calls me asking me where I am and when I am coming home and then getting angry at me if I say I will be out for a while and intend on hanging out for a while. He always comes up with something for me to do, something that I somehow owe him and if I don't do it, and come home at his every whim then he threatens my home and safety. He uses my love for him against me. It isn't fair. If I told him all of this, he would just deny it. Someday I will have him read all of this and then maybe he will understand how it is that I do some of the crazy things that I do. I have to be free, so when I find even just a little freedom, I take every inch of it, because I feel like a caged bird. My wings clipped, I feel like everybody around me works at keeping me held down and captured. Injured is how they prefer me to healthy and happy. I am surrounded by evil people. I am going to have to get away from it if it does not change. If I cannot be free. I don't owe anybody more than Yvonne. I admit I owe her rent. But I do not owe my dad, or Atlas. My dad owes me. Atlas and I are always even. He has done terrible atrocious things to me. I don't see how anything that I have done is even pale in comparison. I am trapped because of him. He has taken my freedom from me in so many ways. I owe only Yvonne money. And that is all I owe. I am sorry. I am an injured animal. I really need understanding and unconditional loving. I am not receiving that here. Not at all. -Mercy July 11, 2008 So it has been concluded that Donna stole from us. She lied to me and Atlas straight up. That is really fucked up. I can't believe that she could be so bold as to lie so bluntly. Now she won't even admit to fault when she is obviously at fault, as well as myself. I know what I did wrong, and I will admit to it, but she will not. I know what I did wrong and I will take blame for what I did, but never for what I didn't. You can always trust me that much. I am a very honest human being. I realize that I am a bad liar, so I just don't lie. No matter what, unless my life is in danger. Now sometimes, in order to protect myself from let's say, the police, I won't tell all of the truth, but I won't lie. Lying is bad. That's what they teach you, and life has taught me that as well. Every time I have ever lied it has always come back and nipped me in the butt. Instant karma sucks. I have been laying awake in bed for the past hour thinking about what Donna has done. I feel really hurt, how can she be so two faced after I have confided so many of my secrets in her? Now I know I can't trust her. I wish I had a close friend that I could trust with everything. Atlas, and you oh faithful pc. That's it I guess, and myself. I would trust me with my deepest of secrets. It's 4:23 am. I need to go to sleep. I am hungry again. I don't seem to be able to sleep anymore. I wish I could. Atlas sleeps more than I do now. It sucks. Well, I'll crash one of these days. I think on saturday, I will go and buy myself a sleep aide so that this not sleeping shit doesn't happen anymore. I love Atlas. I forget that sometimes. He is really the only man that has my heart. And always the best one for me. He always has my back. I love him. I've been stupid latley. I need to to fix all of that. I will with time. I am still learning. I just need to learn fast that is all. I need to stop being a kid and hurry on up and be an adult for a minuete. It seems like everybody I know is still a kid and they can fuck off all they want. I can't, and it sucks. I have to be responsible, and I am half the age of all the rest of my friends. I am tired of being the baby. I don't want this rough road any more. I want to be smart and succeed. I don't need to take the abuse from life I see everybody else taking so quietly. - Mercy July 12, 2008 Went to the store today. I finally have some funds. I love the dollar store. You go in, they have nearly everything you need, and it's all at $1+tx, naturally. Still, it's awesome. I bought like $40 worth of shit for $20. I woke up pretty early today because of Atlas. He found me some hydrocodone to get of of the skag with. I haven't done any today so far, and I don't intend on it. I quit. No more needles. Ever. Needles are bad. I have the hydrocodone to get me by with, that should be enough. I can do it for a week, slowly cutting myself down, Then I'll be okay again. I won't ever be dependant on a drug again. I know here in about 24hrs I am going to start getting really quite shitty feeling, but it won't be violent wrenching vomiting, I'll just have a needle jones. I have to fight with will now. I have the tools to keep me from being ill. Then I will be clean when I go and visit my mom in August. Yippi. That's my goal. Because I can't visit my mom if I am going through withdrawal. I know she would help me get better, and I am sure she would still love me, but I still don't want to have to put my mother through having to see her daughter like that. It's not good. I made $146 last night at work. Pretty good deal. I am happy. Tonight I hopefully do better. My goal every night is at least $130, so I can go home with at least $100, my tip out is always around $28, unless I sell a lot of cocktails, which I normally get about two. My cousin Lauren might be moving in with us soon. She got a D.U.I. And a few other misdemeanor charges last night. We tried to take her keys from her, but she wouldn't listen. She was pulled over initially for taking an improper right turn, or some bullshit like. She almost got Controlled Substance charges, she had 30 flexural in an Aleve bottle, but it's neither a class 2 or 3 narcotic. Thank god for that. So because of her D.U.I., her cheating boyfriend is probably going to kick her out, although she pays all of the bills and rent. So then she'll need a place to stay. We have a six bedroom house. She can live in the upstairs on the other side. Have her own bathroom and pay like $400/month, seeing that we will be sharing a tub and kitchen. It would be nice to have the extra cash, and to finally have a female roommate that isn't a junkie whore. Lauren is a good girl, she likes country and rap, works hard, and pays her bills. I just have to remember, she owes me $22. I need that $22. Fucking Valleybrook took all of the money she earned last night though. She made $339, and they took every penny of it. Those fucking pigs. Atlas is asleep, I wish I was, maybe I'll take a bath and go to sleep after. I did get new bath scrub and wash, and a new loofa too. : ) I love spoiling myself sometimes. Can't help it, I have too. -Mercy July 15, 2008 Just got home from work. It's 4:01 am. If I go to sleep now I won't be able to do what I need to do tomorrow. So I guess I am just going to stay up. That will work. I made $70, I have $40 left. It sucks. Tonight was terrible. Sam only made $35. I made all of my money off of two people. I finally got that bath scrub and loofa. I am happy I did...I needed to get myself something for a change. I am tired of always putting my needs after Atlas's. He doesn't do the same for me, not all of the time. It shouldn't hurt to get myself stuff sometimes too. Today I need to go find a new day job, here in Norman, I need to get the Federal Aid forms for school, and sign up for the act. Get an Act study guide from some bookstore. I need to work on that motor. I think that is all. Oh, and go to the store and pickup pads, tampons, underwear, bread, eggs, razors, and toilet paper. Finally call Dell, get the disk drive sent, and call Browne's Driving School and see how much it costs. I am not going to sleep today until I am done with everything I have to do. It is 7:49 am now. I have two hours before Jamba Juice opens and I can go and apply for a job there. I think they are hiring because they have hired like 5 new people in the past week. Maybe they will hire me because I already know all of the drinks, I go there like everyday. Then I will go to Ace Hardware, and see if they are hiring for anybody. Since I am 18 now I can work there. I really need a new job, close to home for during the weekdays, so that I can bring in a little bit of extra cash flow. I could use more money. We all could. It's now time for me to work my ass off all of the time until I get into school. So I can get the 300 SEL Mercedes Benz from my mom. It's a '91 and it only has like 120,000 miles on it. It gets like 35mpg on the highway and 25 in town. It's a great car, and free. All I need to do is take the drivers ed, get my license finally, and get together enough money to pay for my insurance and gas to get her home. Once I have a phone, internet, and car, I will be a very happy girl. I also need to pay Atlas back for the July 4th fiasco, and start giving Yvonne more money. I also need to pay back Bank of America the $175 I owe them and reopen my account, and get my guitar and amp out of pawn. It comes out to $1320 in total, plus $300/month for yvonne. And another $50 for the Act. Once I get my phone and internet it will be $75/month. That is really a great price compared to any other company. I know all of this money talk is probably really boring to have to read, but I need to write it up so that I know exactly what I need to get my life back in gear. I really need to get it together again. This being stranded without a phone, internet, or a car is really getting to irritate me. My last phone that I had under my name was stolen. That shit really pissed me off. They were supposed to bring it back to me, but never did. It sucks. I liked that phone plan I had too, plus it had all of my phone numbers in it. Some I will probably never be able to get again. Like acid connections in Colorado and what not. Work was allright tonight. I only took my top off twice. For the two lap dances I did. I made $50 off of one guy, and then $30 off of another. I am getting better at hustling now. I am really quite proud of myself. I did better than a lot of the other girls, and I never once took my top off on stage, I was clothed nearly the entire time. It seems the older guys really like me. I think it is because I am so cute. I mean, I really am pretty fucking cute. Just, look at me. -Mercy July 18, 2008 Didn't get to work tonight. Fucking sucks. I could have made a ton of money too. I have applied for job after job. I am trying to get this job at Mr. Short Stop currently. It is this convenience store about four blocks from the house. The guy who owns it is currently running for Senate. Ron Henderson. I won't vote for him, I disagree with his politics, but he doesn't need to know that. I just want to work for the guy. I would start at $8.00/hr. That is better than all the other places I could work at in the food business. I will go up to his store in the morning at 7:30-8:00 to see if I can catch him. I managed to get some food for the house. We are currently living off of pb&j and ramen. Still, we survive. Oh and the occasional treat from the dollar store. I fucking love the dollar store, everything for a buck. The food may be a few days expired, the products occasionally damaged and off-brand, but fuck, it's a buck! My only friends at the moment are strippers. I am entirely cut off from anybody else it seems. I don't have any friends in norman besides Tim and Doug, and Doug is in California. I really like Doug, he is a good guy. He never judges me for being myself, and he has never hurt, lied, or stolen from me. I wish I knew more people like that. I feel so alone here. I know I have Atlas, but I don't really have anybody else. He runs off all of my friends. So now I have none. I am too shy now to make more because I know what they say about me behind my back, and if they are going to do that, then they aren't my friends. These people have no lives of their own. All they do is gossip about other people. They are all petty. I need to get out of this slum. When I get into school I will have some sort of opportunity to find an out. A way through this hell. This gigantic golf course, Oklahoma. Golf is a terrible thing to want to do. It's like heroine, or impulse buys at the supermarket line. An obsessive compulsion. Once you get into playing the game you don't seem to want to stop, you'll put your compulsion before your family or responsibilities. You see those folks in the line at the grocery store, staring wantonly at the candies and tabloid magazines. A candy bar and a zine at a total of $3.13 two times a week, adds up to $325.52/year. It gets expensive. That's how they get you. I know this because I am one of these impulsive buyers. It's an addiction. It's a way to forget all of your worries. Lately my habit has been to go into the makeup department and buy a thing of lib-gloss or nail polish. It makes me happy, sort of. It occupies my time. Nirvana and nail polish. Yippi skippi. I am hiding in the bathroom with the pc. I am not allowed to paint my nails in the room because Atlas doesn't like the smell. He took over my comfortable me-space. Now I am forced to move...again, to find a place to be alone. For now I will hide in the bathroom. I guess I will move into the air conditioned room now, so that I can read my book. I am currently reading the ultimate hitchhikers guide. Again. Can never get tired of it, and I didn't actually finish it last time. I am terrible at that. That is finishing books. I get the jist and then I move on. -Mercy July 20, 2008 A wonderful Sunday afternoon. It's hot as hell out side, but so nice and peaceful inside this air-conditioned room. Atlas is asleep. I am very awake. I am just thankful that the tv is off, I still have a bit of money, and that I am not dead at this very moment. And I still have half of a pb&j sandwich left. I am going to work tonight. I need the money. I may end up going to work all week. Yippi fucking skippi. Listening to an array of music. Currently it is the English Beats “Mirror in the Bathroom”. Great fucking song. It's all about doing drugs. Like every other song in the planet. I can't vouch for the Universe because I haven't seen it all... yet. I haven't listened to all of Electric Lady Land since I put it on the pc. So far, only one song is worth it. “Pepper”. I learned a lot about the cephalopod family yesterday. I fucking love Octopi. They are, to me, the most intelligent creatures on the planet. If they had opposable thumbs and vocal chords we would be in fucking trouble, but apparently they don't like how people taste. I feel that the Octopus is too intelligent a creature to just kill to kill. They would probably prefer to eat what they kill. “I don't mind the sun sometimes and images it shows, I can taste you on my lips and smell you in my clothes. Cinnamon and sugary, and softly spoken lies, you never know just how you look in other peoples eyes.” -The Butthole Surfers I thought I would give you a line from the music I'm listening to. Do you like the little headphones? I do. This is what I look like now. It looks like I have a black eye, but I don't. I haven't had one of those since I was 6. In fact I remember the exact moment and where my first black eye took place. I was playing in the drainage ditch right next to George Park that was a block away from my house here in Norman, (it is now two blocks away from my house), I used to catch Crawdads and swing around on the pipelines that ran over the ditch. I was swinging on the the pipes like some sort of gymnast with my friends, (the neighborhood kids), and I decided to try a pipeline that was higher up, and closer in proximity to the other pipes. Well, like a dumbass I got on the pipe, threw myself forwards with my legs on the pipe and my hands holding down for dear life. I swung up and WHAM right smack into the pipe behind me. I fell off the pipe and was knocked out for about 3 minuets, came to in great pain with a huge welt on my face. Once I saw that I was bleeding I began to cry. Apparently one of the kids went and got my mom, so within two seconds she was there listening to me sob and tell her what happened. She laughed, said, “Poor baby”, and told me not to do that again, “That wasn't the best idea Clarissa.” Thinking about that makes me miss my mom. I've been missing home a lot more lately than usual. I just miss all of my friends and my family. I feel abandoned in so many different ways. Alas, we all are abandoned by all at some point or another, or we are the ones whom do the abandoning. Atlas is awake again. It is now 3:14 pm. I have to be at work in 3½hours. What fun. I think I am going to ride the bike to the store to pick up a few things for work that I need tonight, but it is so hot outside. Maybe I can get Tim to take me to the store before I go to work. A ride would be nice. Now I am listening to “Death in Vegas”. I like them. Logan Rowe is actually the one who introduced me to them. I am glad he did. That's one thing he did well. Introducing me to new music and such. Now I feel very dehydrated for some reason. I don't like feeling this way. I don't seem to be able to drink enough liquid, water and otherwise. I recently have become accustom to drinking the cherry limeade from the fountain at 7-11. I don't know why I like it so much, but it is really cheap, A dollar for a 32 ounce styrofoam cup. -Mercy July 21, 2008 It is now 2:11 am. I had an interesting day. I mean, it wasn't bad interesting. Except for the fact that Sam (stripper) is off of her medication and has been acting all coo coo crazy. Her mood swings are pretty intense. One moment she is laughing, the other she is crying. I med's keep her stable enough so that she can be able to rationalize between proper and improper behavior. I bought some useless stuff today, like lipgloss, glitter, and fake eyelashes. It will help me make money, and these little things bring me joy. I don't find much joy anymore. I hope to make quite a bit of money tomorrow so that I can buy this printer at the pawn shop. It is controllable through bluetooth and it is brand new. 2 ink cartridges and is vista compatible. It's only $50, for a $130 printer regularly. I really could use it. Plus, you can print off the photos on your phone with it. Had Tim drive me up to work today, but it was closed due to air conditioning problems. I was on the schedule though and nobody called me to inform me that I didn't need to come into work today. I think I am going to talk to Caroline about some form of reimbursement for my wasted time, I'll tell her I took a cab and that it was $80 round trip. First of course I will ask her why I wasn't informed of the change in the first place. They have my phone number and I DID fill out an application with my phone number on it. I feel I should receive reimbursement for my wasted time. Atlas is watching television, and I am fucking around with the nifty ass effects that this word program has to offer. I just realized that this program is great for creating websites, in fact that is what it was designed for. I like it a lot. I am discovering gadgets that I have never seen on Windows Word. I like computers. They make me happy. Stupid Sam let my cat Isis out of our house on Thursday, and Isis still hasn't come back. I am worried that she might be run over somewhere or something. The dumb ass, knowing full well that we have cat's kept leaving our front door open when she was here. Now my personal journal is all decked out, with blinkies and pretty colours. I gave Atlas a long back massage. I suppose if I give him a massage every morning he might actually start working on the house. That would make everybody happier...I think. I really just want everything to be okay again. I am too young for this world. I am too hopeful. I am too energetic. I am too iconoclastic. I alienate everybody I know. I really am a hermit. I keep forgetting my true nature. I want to go out and play, but at the same time I want to stay home and read a book and write for hours on end. I am a fucking oxymoron walking. No fun. -Mercy July 22, 2008 Worked my ass off. I am tired and incredibly irritable. I don't know why. I want some peace and quiet for a minuet because I just spent 7 hours in a noisy club dealing with noisy people having to dance and move around for them. The second I got home I found Atlas cleaning and acting all tweaky, immediately he began to bitch at me, didn't ask me about how my night was, or give me a kiss. He lied about calling Fancy's back after I called. He's been repeating himself all night, talking about the same thing. I want him to hug me and lay down with me. I can't go to sleep yet though because I have to be at the short stop in two hours to be able to see if I can get a job there. I have been trying to get a hold of Ron Henderson, the owner of the joint for a minuet now. This week I am going to be totally clean, and so will Atlas. That is something good to look forward to. I am glad for that. And I am glad that Atlas is being so hopeful for a change, and I love the fact that he is excited about his plans. But sometimes a girl needs a hug and a tender caress after she just subjected herself to the sort of things I subject myself to on a nightly basis. On thursday, I am going to do some sort of “private show” with these girls from work. I am not quite sure what that means, but I guess I'll find out. I'll $200 in supposedly 45 minuet's. I need the money. Bad. I am going to work all week, and I am trying to find a second job. I need cash flow right now. I hate being this poor all of the time. My life has been difficult as of late. It's going to get better. It's going to take work. I am going to have to be exhausted. I am going to do what it takes to make it through this hell hole. Atlas wants me to type up a fucking business plan for him. I am EXHAUSTED. What part of that does he not understand? God damn. Ares, my baby kitty is so loving to me. She hasn't been feeling very well lately so she has been clinging to me like a newborn does to her momma. She is currently watching the screen intently, as the letters appear upon the screen. It's entertaining. I really need a hug. Why is that so hard to grasp for him? I need a hug. Not just desire one. I replace hugs with heroine. I hate doing that, I am conscious of my fault. Love in my world is hard to come by nowadays. I wish it wasn't so. As the same I wish so many things were other wise as well. I suppose there is no love for me any more. Sounds emo as fuck, but I don't care. I feel all emotional anyway. -Mercy July 23, 2008 Atlas is pissed off because I ran away to my friends house for the night. I am trying to think of different ways to make money. I want to go to work tomorrow and then go home. I haven't done and smack in 24hrs. For the first time in months. I really could use some. My head is throbbing. I can't stop shitting. I feel like I am about to puke up my entire insides. But I am not yet, so I am okay. He is pissed off because I “ditched” him. But I need a night away from him. It's hard right now. I am need a moment where not every thing I say is turned against me. Tomorrow is the day my integrity dies. But that is okay. A life of prostitution in a drug induced daze. Sounds like heaven to me. I spoke to my ole' friend Evan Yost from colorado, he said if I ever need a place to stay for a min, in colorado his door is open. It would be awesome to do some hiking/climbing with the guy, apparently he has gotten into trudging up and down mountains. I love doing that shit. I need to move back to Colorado. It's where I belong. First I need to take my act and get my drivers license, then I am out-a-here. I can't take it anymore. -Mercy