Something To Look Forward To

I smelled springtime in the air for the first time today. Pollen, rebirth, and regeneration soon to follow. Rehabilitation. Sigh, I've done this all before. It's eerie, actually. Last time this happened it was February. I'm looking at the calendar and it looks like it's about that time once again. When this happened previously, Bright Eyes had just come out with two new albums. Again, their newest one is due out this April, with an EP out in just a few days. Hopefully this will inspire some kind of creativity in me. At some point this year I've got to create not one but two paintings that I'd been commissioned to do before life blew up in my face. This is of supreme importance. I haven't painted or drawn or put anything down visually in so many years I fear that I've lost whatever talent I had that produced my previous works of art. I'd decided back in jail to give up visual art for the written word because, let's face it, I'm no Picasso. At some point in life you've got to realize what your strong points are, real or imagined, and go with the real. But for some reason an awesome lady back in Austin wants me to paint for her. I'm super nervous about the endeavor--I'm no professional. Never had a serious art class, don't really know how to paint. I guess now's as good a time as any to learn, right?

First Grade

How am I going to do this? I don't know. I'll figure it out. God this year is going to suck. I'll be spending my 25th birthday in rehab. How did things get this way? Today I was dusting the house and found an old book my first grade teacher made me of stories I wrote back then, illustrated and all. I was pretty ambitious for a 6 year old; the spelling is the best thing I've seen in a long time. However, I found one particular story to be quite depressing--a story that's run through my mind more than once in the past few years. I was surprised to see it still existed, and I guess proves the wisdom of a child, even if they have no idea what they mean at the time.

"I hate drugs! No way! Drugs make you go outofcontrol! Drugs destroy your hart. And they make your brain go outofcontrol! People use drugs becoes they thank it's good for you. But it isin't very good for you. If you take drugs you are making a big mustake. Cigarettes are disgusting! Wisky is disgusting, too! So Say No to Drugs!!!"

Is it okay if I cry a little now??

I Laughed Out Loud

Fox News is the greatest channel on the planet. Not to be taken seriously, of course. Not that they take themselves seriously. Anna Nicole rules my world. A girl can't have too many baby-daddies, I mean really. And I could just kiss Britney Spears on the lips. She made rehab cool in an instant, so it seems that I'm right on time.
Maybe I'll shave my head...

Maybe not.

So I was looking up shit about rehab last night since I don't know anything but what I learned from the school of hard-knocks. All the shit they tell you in rehab I already know. It doesn't take a genius to pull a Nancy Reagan and Just Say No. But you'd think it does since the 12-steppers' success rate is like 5%. Then I found this:

Before rehabilitation programs began people recovered from alcoholism and other compulsive and obsessive behaviors. It is important to understand the difference between recovery and recovering. Individuals involved in conventional treatment do not believe that people can ever be free of the obsession to drink or drug. Before treatment existed this was not the case. Past programs promoted recovery or the idea that a person can be who they were before they ever drank or drugged. We teach people that they can be even more than that. The foremost psychiatrist of the 20th century, Dr. Carl Jung, spoke of alcoholics recovering through a "vital spiritual experience" which he described as "huge emotional displacements and rearrangements." Experts like Dr. Jung did not understand these recoveries, but certainly knew of them and thought of them as anomalies. Nonetheless and in the absence of scientific understanding, Dr. Jung and others tried to bring about these "huge emotional displacements and rearrangements" to help alcoholics recover. Dr. Jung reported that some of his patients did recover using these methods, but he had never been successful with anyone who had the "mind of a chronic alcoholic [or drug addict]."

Thank you, Mr. Jung. You're a goddamned genius. I guess I am too, then, because this is what I've always believed, and you've only proved me right. Apparently the ONE center in the country with this ideology has a sixty-fucking-five percent success rate. Wait, isn't that 1, 2...13 times better than EVERY other place in the country??

Hrmm.

You see what they tell you in rehab I just can't buy. If I haven't done drugs in a year, how am I a drug addict? Shit I haven't done drugs in a week, and I'm not a drug addict. That would imply that I'm addicted to a drug. Well I haven't had any withdrawal symptoms since Saturday. So explain to me how I'm addicted to a drug. I'll never understand, and I'll never be okay with that label. I refuse to be "in recovery" for the next 20 years. I have better things to do with my time.

This is what happened to my Austin, poor baby. When someone tells you something enough times you start to believe it. Remember the blonde chick in class who everyone said was a whore? She probably started putting out only after her virginity was stripped from her mind. This is crucial, because she let it be. The only way to change a behavior is to change your mind first. I have no prediliction towards the needle anymore. You see I changed my mind. No I wouldn't mind getting high. If you think about it, who would? Come on. Well it's not worth it. And my mind tells me that so guess what? I'm not doing drugs and have no real desire to. And you'd think a heroin addict--barely a week off it even--wouldn't be able to do that. At least that's what they tell you. Don't ever trust them. The biggest liar in the world is "they" and they always have something stupid to say. The only thing you can do is trust your heart and follow your mind. But you knew that.

There's a man in my heart that I can't hear in my head and it's crushing my soul. The headaches don't stop; still they rage out of control. I yearn for his touch--stronger hands have yet to touch my covered ivory skin. I can't begin to speak on his petal-soft lips or even the rose-hinted smell of his hair right now. You'd think it'd be comforting. Alas, it's too painful. I'm too cold.

Shit Hit the Proverbial Fan

Wow. I didn't realize it had been so long. I sincerely apologize. Whilst I've been gone shit hit the fan. Boy did it hit that disgusting fan. Since I last spoke to you I picked up a nasty little heroin habit and I'll be checking into rehab within the next week or so. I'm picking up writing where I left off and I'm sure I'll have plenty of subject matter to air my feelings over.

I know you're wondering why. I have a couple of answers, but we'll save that for later. There is always later, right? Well that's what I'm counting on.

I've lost everything now--I'm back home at my parents' house. There was an exciting end to the drama, although I fear the real drama is only about to begin. Going on the lamb from cracked out drug dealers was pretty damned awesome though.

You can imagine.

Set It Straight

Fortunately, the following moment was fleeting. He loves me, he is the proverbial one. That's the one thing that doesn't seem to change about our relationship, despite all the tumult and manic depression between the two of us. But nothing can be beautiful that isn't just a little bit ugly...you know, for contrast...

Don't you love what is intangible

I guess I knew love would tear him apart. It fucking tore me apart. Tonight, to be specific. The love of my life--the only real and true lover I've ever known so graciously and with unmatched nonchalantness provided me with the knowledge that he doesn't care about me or us anymore. And that I'm ridiculous. He says he doesn't love me, and that I'm a stupid bitch as well. I am fuckin destroyed. He totally had me. Like, in the palm of his hand. I fear he used me. And he could totally have me again--I just don't know, and at this moment I kinda doubt--that he even wants me anymore. I guess I don't deserve it--a person like me just doesn't deserve love. It's hard to face the truth. Love is the only thing I've ever wanted, and the only thing that's managed to elude me every goddamned motherfuckin time. Shit! Love is the only reason to live--the only reason I want to live. Although after tonight, I cannot deny that I am without that which is so vital to my very existence. Love. But he said he doesn't even care. So the verdict is in: I actualy am completely unloveable, just as myself and I have suspected for years. It's never going to happpen even if I do give the most unbelieveable blow jobs in the entire world (and I do.) It's becoming clearer that the only solution is the final solution. And that sucks.
When reality sets competely in and sets up housekeeping etc. upstairs, a lonely girl realizes that sometimes our dreams just don't/aren't/never come true. And they told me "fuck you lady!" while they disappeared. But that's about right for me these days, I guess.
Life's a bitch, ain't it?? How bout a little Radiohead, eh?

When you were here before
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel
Your skin makes me cry
You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
And I wish I was special
Youre so fuckin special
But I'm a creep,
I'm a weirdo.
What the hell am I doing here?
I dont belong here.
I dont care if it hurts
I want to have control
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul
I want you to notice
When I'm not around
Youre so fuckin special
I wish I was special
But I'm a creep,
I'm a weirdo.
What the hell am I doing here?
I dont belong here.
Whatever makes you happy
Whatever you want
You're so fuckin special
I wish I was special...
But I'm a creep,
I'm a weirdo,
What the hell am I doing here?
I dont belong here.
I dont belong here.