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"I never could understand a thing like that.
There's nowhere to go when you don't know where you're at."
-Dave-

"You're licking out a broken rhythm,
a staccato symphony
with stems all over the scale."
-Danielle-

"But she was nothing special,
just your classic tormented poet."
-Cyara-

"Slap me, I'll tell her the story
of how her rosebud is a whore."
-Stephanie-

"It's easy to indulge a fantasy
to feed an addiction."
-Ash-

"But I adore your cheeks when they bloom, so that I may pick
at them with my teeth, one petal at a time, slipping
in clear opals on to my tongue."
-Lynn-

"Just because you breathe you have access
to the secrets of the dalai lama, every ghandi
every buddha, every dead celluloid queen."
-Miko-

"Your diseased skin is my paper butterfly."
-Cassandra-

"The girl in the trunk tasted better."
-Britt-

"I've never had a clue,
but then again,
neither did the dying man."
-Kay-

"And you look me in the eye
as you fasten your belt another hole in."
-Christine-


"The spiders are running across the floor again
and the blood has an extra twinge of metal to the taste
black finger nail polish and running mascara seems to be the ultimate cliche"
-Bailey-


Contact Me

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Dec 29, 2003
...

I've moved. Email me (BleedingWisteria@aol.com) or leave me a comment if you want the link to my new blog.

Posted at 02:58 pm by GreySplendor
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And would you miss me.

Day 22.
 
You'll probably think I'm crazy after you read this entry.

Sometimes I think I want to be a slut. Sometimes I just want to be an easy lay, to fuck without caring about the consequences or myself. Screw relationships; you only get hurt anyway. You end up with bruises and scars and a fear of alcohol and low self esteem. I don't want to care, I try not to care, but part of me still cares and probably always will.

There was a homeless man on the road today, holding a sign that said, "Please help the homeless, God bless." Megan and my dad and I all gave him some money and he smiled at me like we were the first people to ever help him or something. It reminded me of when I was little and we were in Philadelphia because my dad had to go to some conference for work. It was nighttime, it had started raining and we were walking quickly to get back to the hotel. There was a homeless man sitting on the curb holding out a styrofoam cup and my parents passed him on by. I don't think I'll ever forget that.

Cry with me. Please.


Posted at 01:32 am by GreySplendor
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Dec 28, 2003
And somewhere.

Day 21.

I love my fishnet tights <3. And the jeans I exchanged. Ooh and the skirt. Sexxyxcore.

Okay not really. Or at least not me. But it's neat just the same.

My dad gave away his ticket to the Ravens game tonight. I think it's stupid, considering he had great seats. But it's his decision, so whatever. I just hoped he'd be gone for a while.

Today I have gone three weeks without SI. I miss it. I've been trying to focus on other things, but nothing works as well as sleeping your life away.

I wish I didn't care.

.Cate.

Posted at 07:44 pm by GreySplendor
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Dec 27, 2003
You don't need me.

I'm breaking.
 

Posted at 02:19 pm by GreySplendor
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"Everything here dies alone."

And it hurts too much to feel this way. I don't want to feel this way. I'm sorry. I can't take it.

Forget I ever said a thing, forget you ever read a word.

I'm not sure I care about what happens to me right now. That balcony's looking pretty damn tempting. There's vodka in the cabinet. There's a razor in my aspirin bottle. Lighter in the kitchen.

Not yet. Later. Maybe.

And it's not your fault. It's not your fault.

"Bye bye, beautiful. Don't bother to write." -Coheed and Cambria-

Posted at 03:48 am by GreySplendor
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Dec 26, 2003
..Yeah.

Happy fifteenth birthday, Dave!!!


Posted at 03:30 pm by GreySplendor
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Dec 25, 2003
Dysfunctional families.

I'm at my grandparents' house.

Lovely visit, lovely. My grandparents shout at each other to shut up, etc. etc. My cousin Amy brought her baby and her deadbeat boyfriend. Oh, and my Uncle Kevin got drunk and my dad had to go get him at a bar. Then he calls later, wants to talk to Megan and I, and says to me, "How are you, sweetheart?" and I'm like, "fine.." while wanting to tell him to fuck off and then hang up. My dad says that he must have had about 3 6-packs. Wonderful. I'm in a family full of alcoholics and it makes me want to drink so badly.

I want to cut. In the bathroom, I glimpsed a bunch of razor blades and thought about it. My dad was yelling at Megan and I. I considered suicide a couple times; finally my dad took me outside onto the driveway and we had a talk. He told me to go back in the house and we'd talk later. I told him I didn't want to talk later.

Anyway. Whatever. It doesn't matter.

It's odd, but I thought about Dave periodically over the day...still wondering if my poem is shit or not.

So I'll be online when I get back. Promise.

.Cate.

Posted at 07:31 pm by GreySplendor
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Strawberry Julius--Bikini Kill

Day 18.

Almost 3 weeks without SI. Listening to Bikini Kill. Bored out of my mind. Craving reeses cups.

I want to talk to Dave. I need to know if my poem is crap or not.

.Cate.

Posted at 11:07 am by GreySplendor
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Dec 24, 2003
.

"Apologies are useless without an address to send them to."
-Pretty Girls Make Graves-

Posted at 11:13 pm by GreySplendor
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...yeah

Day 17.

It doesn't feel like Christmas eve. Tomorrow it won't feel like Christmas. It will NEVER feel like Christmas here.

We already opened all of our stuff because Megan and my dad want to leave for my grandparents' house early tomorrow morning. If one of my relatives sees my scars or something, I won't know what to tell them. But it screwed up my whole sense of Christmas because we have never opened our gifts on Christmas eve before now. Ever. I think I miss my mom, and the Christmas tree at home, and the way the house smells like cinnamon and pine needles when you walk in the door. I miss my room. I miss my own bed.

I'm saving up for a digital camera now. One of the few things I asked for and my dad decides I'll like a portable DVD/CD player better. Right. I hardly ever even watch DVDS. I'm not trying to sound ungrateful, because it's a nice gift and all but I don't deserve it. My dad informed me that he spend $400 on me this Christmas and I don't deserve that AT ALL. I'm considering cutting to punish myself but I already promised Chris I won't do it today or tomorrow.

I accidentally drew on the edge of the monitor with a permanent marker while labeling a CD and if my dad sees it, I'm dead. I downloaded an entire Pretty Girls Make Graves CD and I made a bunch of mixes for the car ride up to PA tomorrow...I can't wait......ugh.

Kill me. Now.

Posted at 08:00 pm by GreySplendor
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