Good Morning, Christmas

The Narrator says...

If you sit quietly enough, you can hear Lacey move. She creeks, you can hear every bone snap into place as she arises. The sound of the monster that sneaks up behind you, the demon that was lurking in the dark corner. The crash of each vertebrae falling onto the next echos in a silent room. It's a warning, like the the sound of 12-gauge shotgun being cocked. Locked and loaded!

Lacey says...

It was my turn to write on the bathroom mirror. I almost have this thing perfected! I couldn't finish because of the goddamn pile of clothes on the floor. Get to work on that, Sue!

Lacey is loved.

Lovely. Longed for. And looking.

Lacey is not lost.

Lacey is found. Straight. Forward.

Lacey is not left.

Lacey is right. Correct. True.

Lacey is not a lie.

Lacey is lucky.

Like lime green!

Not brown. Or blue. Or black...

...and then I ran out of space. It's all coming together though. It's like I have been coming up with the words to this linguistic puzzle for years and I am just now starting to see they all fit together perfectly somehow! Brilliant.

No Need For Xmas

Nina says...

Oh Christmas time. ... I'm trying to feel the joy of the holiday, because I know I should. But I don't. The truth is it's an overrated holiday that gives people an excuse to be nice to others when they really should just be doing that anyways. Not to mention, the whole thing is suppose to celebrate Jesus and I get the feeling he is laughing at most of us around this time of year. Sometimes I imagine He would prefer people say "X-mas" rather than "Christmas." I imagine He doesn't want much to do with what his birthday has become. Huh! Oh well.

Now New Years... that's my bag, baby. I love new beginnings. And a new beginning it shall be. Filled with things I enjoy. Like...

Breakfast burritos. Truly, they just send me over the edge! So delicious and fattening. Yum! They are worth gaining weight. Absolutely.

(I'm enjoying one at this very moment. Walking over to my laptop I accidentally dropped it on the floor. Because I'm clumsy and it happens. And I decided fuck it! I'm gonna eat it anyways. It's not like I will catch some random disease off the floor that didn't already belong to me in the first place. I'm really the only one in my apartment these days. Except for my housecat. But I'm pretty sure he and I share the same disease anyways. So no biggie.)

Art. Lots and lots of art! Movies I love. Projects I want to get done. Music I crave!!! All the creations that make my heart go pitter-patter. And writing. Good writing. The writing I have been hiding. I'm going to be the artist I always have been. No matter how weird it makes me.

Travel. My urge to see the world is still pounding through my chest. I think I will see New Orleans this next year. The blues bars and the graveyards. A "Nina Simone good" moment awaits me there. I just know it.

Love. There shall be love. With who or what, I don't know. Honestly, I kinda hope I fall in love with myself. Meh, I don't think the subject matters. All that matters is that I will love something. Intensely, completely, and unconditionally. Something that won't disappoint or turn on me. ...oh I'm excited about that!

...and I think I will sing a lot more.

"Bright light city gonna set my soul, gonna set my soul on fire..."

Family

Amanda says...

I love my family, but I don't think I will ever go on a family vacation with them again. We are all too crazy to spend more than a whole day together, let alone seven. Trying to cater to them while maintaining a necessary facade in front of them is exhausting.

Parts of Mexico were beautiful, though. I love the ocean, especially at dawn. And good food. I had this banana cake covered in chocolate that ranks in the top three most incredible things I have ever tasted.

My father.

"Why? Because I am the patriarch! And when the patriarch says jump, you jump, goddammit!"

-Running With Scissors

He can be such an infuriating man. Hypocritical and sometimes just cruel. I always feel like I'm being scrutinized by him. If one little piece of me is not in the right place, I know he will see it and judge me for it. He holds me to expectations he could never hold himself to. He can't communicate! Instead of saying something pisses him off, he just gets pissed off and then blames me for it. He will insult me and then go off and pout. He will realize he was wrong and then feel bad. Instead of saying he's sorry, he will treat me like gold. Sometimes he will suddenly buy me something. I'm constantly left confused. Did I do something wrong or not? I will never really know.

But he is fascinating. And I know he is the way he is for good reasons. I hope he learns someday that I'm the same way.

My sister.

-"If I just met you on the street. If you gave me your phone number... I'd throw it away"

-"Well, we don't have to like each other, Jo. We're family."

-Home for the Holidays

The bottom line is my sister doesn't like me. And I don't think I like her. But we are still close, because we are sisters. I really don't mind that we don't like each other. It's not a problem to me, almost irrelevant. But it's a problem for her constantly. And when she has a problem, then I have a problem. Thus, conversations between us can turn sour quickly.

...and she is always fucking poking me in someway or another. Either touching my ears, or pulling my hair, or actually taking her index finger and literally poking me. Like an annoying 5 year old little sister. And do you wanna know why... because she can! I'm a cripple who doesn't move fast enough to do anything about it, so she can. Her thinking really is that fucked up. She has always loved inflicting physical pain on me. Once when we were in middle school I casually walked up to a conversation her and my mother were having and before I said a word she smacked me across the face. After which she immediately hugged me and sincerely apologized saying she really had no idea why she had done it. ...but keep in mind, I've always been the "crazy" one.

She is a hypochondriac too, constantly feigning cramps at any time of the month or suddenly popping a Xanax before bed claiming she's having an anxiety attack. Sometimes I wonder if it's because she grew up with a sister who had sincere medical problems throughout childhood. How else was she suppose to compete with her older sister? I had a really hard time dealing with it on the trip. I can't tell you how many times I wanted to tell her to cowboy the fuck up! One day she had back problems and she looked at me with teary eyes and said, "I just wish I could get a back transplant." I had to hobble away from the conversation.

She does stick up for me, though. On a whale watching boat, she got several men to agree to carry me up to the top of the boat. If I hadn't been so sea-sick at puking I would have let them. I wonder what she said to them. Ha.

My brother.

"Soon. Everything's going to be alright. Yeah. Soon. Just wait for me. I'll be back soon. You'll wait, right? Just wait. I'm coming. I am. And I'm sorry. I'm real sorry."

-Requiem for a Dream

I understand this movie so much better now that I have lived with my brother. It's like a whole new movie. A lot sadder now.

My brother and I reconnected. ...I think. He said his life is straight now. He has a job and he said he did well in school this last semester. I hope so. He's the only child in college right now and it would make my dad happy. He said that everything that happened when he lived with me was the second dumbest thing he's ever done after going to prison. He said he was sorry.

I really want to believe him. I wanted to just know that, of course, it's all true. I don't want to question it. But I do. It makes me really sad. But what can I do... nothin'.

My mother.

"Yes, I understand. A lot of people enjoy being dead. But they're not really dead. They're just backing away from life. They're players--but they sit on the bench. The game goes on before them. At any moment they can join in. Reach out! Take a chance! Get hurt maybe. But play as well as you can. Go team, go! Give me an L. Give me an I. Give me a V. Give me an E. LIVE!!! Otherwise you'll have nothing to talk about in the locker room."

-Harold and Maude

She is the most beautiful creature I know. I don't think I could ever get sick of being with her. We understand each other.

But I'm worried about her lately. I think she may be losing her mind a little bit. With all of us kids gone, she's acting funny these days. I'm hoping it's menopause. I'm hoping it is her quirky way of coming into her own now that she is getting a little older. I think she is just a little confused. She needs time to figure things out, whatever they may be. And if that means she needs to randomly look at me sometimes and say things like "ferris wheel" with an excited look in her eye, then so be it. I'll be along for the ride.

I caught her staring at me on one of the plane rides. She smiled. I asked her, "What?" She said, "You are just so beautiful... like... like... Esmeralda!!!" I smiled back at her. I always thought of myself more like the Hunchback. But it makes me happy to know she thinks that about me. Sometimes I think she knows she is the only one who says things like that to me and means it. Which makes me even happier that she said it.

I think I am separating myself from my family. I'm becoming a separate entity. But it's okay. I think it's what we all want.

Vacation?

Nina says...

A clever centipede once said...

"Bright lights, big city

That's where we gotta go

Where the food is great and the bugs are so pretty

I'd like to get my arms around a hundred or so!

I'd hug 'em, squeeze 'em, hold 'em tight

Sleep all day, dance all night

I want the bright lights and the big city

That's the life for me, yeah"

Susie says...

The time has come yet again to band together... unfortunately. Now throughout this whole ordeal I want you to remember that we are ALL miserable, therefore we are ALL in it together.

I know how excruciating it is to surrender control to be me. But let's be honest, I am the only one capable of steering us through this. This is a situation that calls for stability, humility, and grace. Composure if of the utmost importance. With a little bit of luck, we will fade into the background while the drama unfolds before us...

I'm talking about the annual family trip to Mexico. One full week with the whole family. Thousands of miles from home, with nowhere else to go. ... I hope the ocean is devastatingly beautiful.

I won't kid you, it most likely won't be easy. In fact, at times, it may be downright unbearable. But we can do it. We must, we must, we must!

And as a reward for good behavior, I have one hell of treat for you. Two weeks after we get home, we are going to Vegas. For New Years. Bring in the new year with a bang!

Survive in Mexico, celebrate in Vegas. It will be worth it. I promise.

Francis Watch

Amanda says...

I have felt the twinge of a headache all day. Honestly, it's been brewing off and on for a couple days. It's just a matter of time now. I give it a day, at the most.

Headache got bad about an hour ago. I've been drinking too (1 1/2 beers, about 10% alcohol content). Probably didn't help. Fuck, I miss how free I use to be.

Thus far...

Lower back aches.

Almost the entire right side of my body hurts, particularly my lower back, neck, and temple area.

A very noticeable lumpiness on the right side of my head. Knots in my muscles, I'm assuming.

Taken...

1 muscle relaxer, 2 ish hours ago?

800 mg Ibuprofen

2 drags of marijuana

The pain is do-able, but definitely undeniable.

Lacey says...

It snowed today. Figures.

Sometimes, when it's cold like this, I wonder what it would be like to enjoy human touch. What would it be like to be comfortable in the arms of someone? What would it be like to actually cuddle with someone like it was no big deal?

And then I remember I hate that shit.

...sometimes I wonder, what have I done to myself?

Nina says...

Save me, Mr. Mercury. Only you can!

Francis Watch

Amanda says...

*Editor's note* Don't ask me why I used military time. Maybe I thought I was being more scientific or something ridiculous like that.

22:56 Wednesday

I am performing an experiment of sorts.

At this time I am fairly certain I am going to experience a migraine in the next few hours. So I have decided to document the process as best I can.

Thus far...

My back has been aching for about 2 hours.

I have been feeling pretty cold all day.

I can feel a slight tingling sensation on the right side of my head. Maybe an increase in blood flow?

I have taken my anti-nausea medication. Side effect of drowsiness is trippy!

Took 800 mg Ibuprofen.

I can definitely feel the tension in the muscles in my back, neck, and the right side of my head.

My preparatory behavior fascinates me. I have already shut off all the lights in my apartment and locked the doors. I have turned the thermostat up. I have turned my bed down.

I am now sitting down and watching Venture Brothers. And waiting.

23:14

Whoa my ears just started ringing!

Headache or anti-nausea meds?

00:27

Not much happening.

Was I mistaken?

Or have I actually succeeded in thwarting the enemy?!

13:55 Thursday

I slept for 12 hours.

No headache.

But I am feeling very out of it. Like I have slept too much or I'm drugged up.

Something strange did happen this morning. I can't be certain it was real, I may have been dreaming. I was lying in my bed, it was most likely around 0800. My eyes were closed and I felt my bed move, as if someone/something was climbing onto it from the foot of the bed. I was so tired I couldn't open my eyes so I just laid there. It felt like someone was moving slowly up to the head of my bed. I remember feeling somewhat scared, but too tired to move. When it felt like the someone was right beside me, I forced myself to open my eyes. It was really difficult, again I felt like I was drugged or something. But once my eyes were open, I was completely awake. I was panicking. But no one/nothing was there. Like I said, I'm not sure if this really happened or if it was a dream.

Sooo...

Lacey says...

Good morning, Sunshine. Were you hoping the skies would clear while you slept? Oh I have some sad news, honey... Forecast calls for snow and lonesome cold. My apologies for being the bearer of such unapologetic news.

I think I'll stay here for a little while. I had weeks of spectacular sleep and I am sharper than ever.

I think I might become the monster they've always wanted. Malleable, momentary... and completely merciless. A shapeshifter. A sympathetic spirit that turns into a sadistic slut right before their very eyes. They will feel so very sorry until snap! Oh how splendid it all sounds.

Maybe. Just maybe.

Maybe I will keep very still. So still it sickens you. I will sit there silently with a sinister smile. So so so still it will scare you. You will expect everything from me! And still, I will sit.

Or maybe I will slither slowly up your spine. Make every sensation shiver. Sing shocking songs softly to you. Saunter about in your sick little soul.

So unsure of my strategy.

But I swear to you... I shall stay.

Pissy

Persy says...

Oh you poor little princess

Did things not go according to plan?

Such a pity

What did you expect, pumpkin?

Don't look for meaning in play

Did you really expect him to make you feel pretty?

Pathetic!

Promises promises...

...pliable little promises

Bend the rules

Amend the law

Pretend it's not all you're pondering

Pretend you aren't picturing it

Pretend you aren't pining to see your reflection in that blade

Pretend you don't want the pleasure

Pretend you don't crave the pain

Pussy!

Look at you

You let everyone else hurt you

But you won't hurt yourself

Why should they get all the fun?

Play that music louder

We all know it won't penetrate

Not like it will

You probably wont do it

Pansy!

Just pound away

Pound pound pound away

This Means War!

"Yup, I'm flyin' through the air right now.

This is not good."

-Ricky Bobby, Talladega Nights

Sparky says...


The fear of falling. I have always thought it was silly. Then again, that was a fear I was forced to face a long time ago. Cripples--well I guess the proper term here would be gimp--are clumsy creatures.


I don't know when my war with Gravity began. I imagine it was around the time I learned to stand up and take my first steps, which would have been around age three or four. I guess it's safe to say we have been fighting for as long as I can remember.

It is a taxing war. I have never been winning it. I probably never will either. The only reason it continues is because I am too stubborn to submit to defeat. I just keep picking myself up after each attack. I'm sure Gravity is pretty pissed about it by now.

It amuses me to imagine what goes through Gravity's mind with each offense. The anxiety and the excitement prior to the attack, the grand hope! Then the utter thrill and rush of adrenaline when it strikes, hurling me towards the ground, followed by bitter anticipation as it waits patiently to see if I will crawl away from its clutches. And when I eventually do, starting with the minuscule movement of an arm or a foot... I imagine it is desperate disappointment. "Oh come on! You've gotta be kidding me! Again?!! She is fucking getting up again?!!! What the fuck is this cripple made of?!!! She might as well bounce like a goddamn ball by now and quit wasting my time."

To me, this whole thing has become routine. Suddenly, some invisible foot trips me. I have a small window of time where I have the potential to save myself if I can react quickly enough, if I can just twist my body in the right way or grab onto something stable enough to hold onto. Once those few seconds pass, and if I am still heading towards the ground, it's over. I abandon any delusion of control at that point. I know I am going to hit the ground. I simply wait it to come up underneath me and pray my durability counts for something this time. I've actually been told by people who have witnessed me fall that I somehow manage to do it very gracefully, almost as if I am dancing.

So I will hit the ground-- SPLAT! Usually, it knocks the wind out of me. This forces me to lay there for a few minutes, waiting for the ability to breathe to return to me. These few minutes are probably the most amusing part of the whole ordeal since I usually talk to myself through painful gasps, saying things like "Oh man, that was a good one!" or "Fuck me in the ass with a chainsaw!" It's unfortunate I'm usually alone when this happens, I imagine for a morbid audience it would be hilarious. Once my endorphines kick in and the pain subsides, I have to face the problem of getting back up. This part sucks. You have no idea how fucking annoying it is to find yourself face to face with the mud, or soaking in a cold puddle, or lying on the linoleum not quite sure how you are going to get yourself out of this mess. Sometimes, on the days Gravity is feeling particularly vengeful my nice outfit gets ruined, or I cut open the same spot on my hand or elbow and I bleed all over my freshly cleaned floor. "Haha, take that, bitch! That'll teach you to stay down where I put you!"

You may think I would get upset about this kind of relentless force constantly trying to knock my dick in the dirt, but I got over it a long time ago. I know Gravity will never give up. It's always gonna be there, like an evil sibling who pokes at you when you're already in a bad mood. What is the point of getting pissy about something you just can't change? Besides, how could I possibly fight back? It's not like I can bring Isaac Newton back from the dead and demand a rewrite of his theory.

I'm pretty sure one day I am going to resort to living out my life in elbow and knee pads and one hell of sweet lookin' helmet. Hopefully, I will be an old woman by then. I will race down the sidewalks in my scooter, my beaty eyes staring out from behind vintage goggles, making bomber jet noises and screaming Winston Churchill battle cries, "We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender!!!"

Goodnight

Sparky says...

Bare with me. I'm drunk...

The men who are attracted to me are perverts. Then men who fuck me are sexual deviants.

This is a good thing. The men who have sex with me have nothing to prove. They feel no need to impress me. Why would they? I'm not some "beautiful" girl they need to woo. I am their dirty little secret. Their trip to the dark side. Their perversity. Their chance to be unbridled and completely disgusting. Carnal knowledge all over your face!!! I see who they really are when their clothes come off. Stick your curious manhood in me and discover your truth. I dare you! Cum in me and ye shall be saved! (Yes, I just said that. And I meant it!)

My housecat is asleep on my couch. I find myself sleeping better when he is here. I'm pretty sure I love him. Just as he is, sleeping on my couch.. I don't think I need anything more from him. He just needs to be there. He's decor in my life. The type of decor that engages me and challenges me to be better. He's better than the carnal knowledge.

He scares me. I don't know why. I don't want to know.

Thanksgiving

Amanda says...

I'm alive tonight. And happy. Cool.

And I have wine.

...and Queen. The Queen is very important.

And I have my housecat. That's pretty important too.

Tonight, life is good. And I am grateful for that.

Cripple Queen

"Yeah it's holding me

Morphing me

And forcing me to strive."

-Muse

Sparky says...

I have tried writing this blog several times now. I keep getting stuck. My mind is too clogged up with bullshit bullshit BULLSHIT! The type of bullshit everyone has tried to force feed me for years. I've never been able to keep it down.

But this is what I have managed to pull through...

I am a lone reed. I am the last man standing at the end of a long, cold war. I am a renegade alien who crash-landed on Earth and I can no longer find my way home. So I am stuck here, forever trying to burrow myself into a world that never really wanted me in the first place.

I am not handicap. I am not disabled. I am not physically challenged. I am not a little trooper. I am not even a cripple. And I am most certainly not your sweetheart, you self-righteous pipsqueak of a man! I have a name... it's Sparky Spitfire, and I won't be content till you're screaming it in the midst of the most excruciating pain or the throws of undeniably perverse passion.

They don't have a name for my kind yet. I wonder if they ever will.

Excuse me for simply thinking that tragedy just happens. Excuse me for wanting to be amazing for who I am rather than for surviving the shitty hand life may have dealt me. Excuse me for not wanting to be your billboard. Excuse me for wanting to inspire bitter honesty instead of cheap, sold-out fairy tales. Excuse me for knowing that I am worth way more than my sob story.

Oh those poor, poor people who look upon me with those sad eyes and think to themselves, "I just couldn't imagine." They are so right, yet so wrong. I dare them to explore the darkest regions of their imaginations. I dare them to conjure up ANY idea of who and what I am. They don't process the depth for it, nor the courage. They could never possibly see me. And despite their polished, good intentions, they don't really want to.

Someday, I want someone too look in my eyes when I am truly on my game. When I am in my moment. Will they see the rage? Will they see the X factor? Will they see all the potential that will never be because it HAD to be caged? Imagine if it wasn't. What would happen if it broke through and ran wild through your safe little streets. I promise you, so much chaos lies within me. Does anyone ever stop to think that Jesus crippled me as means of protecting the rest of you? And only time will tell if His plan actually worked.

A Tantrum

Lacey says...

There is a pounding in my chest tonight. Something is trying to escape. It's going to explode from me with a spray of blood and lung tissue. I know it's going to happen any second now.

Pound... pound... pound...

Did I just see it jump under my skin? I think I did. It's almost there, almost free. Any moment now... A BLUR OF BEAUTIFUL BRUTALITY WILL BLAST THROUGH MY BROKEN BREAST, BREAKING BEYOND BITTER BONDAGE! BEWARE!

Knock... knock... knock...

What goes there? No one is home. I'm vacationing in Fiji for the winter. Won't you come back in the Spring when I have returned with glorious stories of my travels?

Pound... pound... POUND!

No hablo Inglés. Váyase, por favor.

KNOCK... KNOCK... KNOCK!!!

Quick! Barricade the door! We've got ourselves a fighter. Dig into the trenches, boys. We're in this thing for the long haul. God save us!!!

Susie says...

This is ridiculous. So you almost killed yourself three years ago tonight.

Mr. Lemon Pie saved you. You're not dead. It was three years ago. Get over it.

Lacey says...

Way to take the wind out of my sails, bitch.

A Round of Applause

"These fancy things, will never come in between

You're part of my entity, here for infinity

When the war has took its part

When the world has dealt its cards

If the hand is hard, together we'll mend your heart"

-Rihanna

Sparky says...

Think about anyone you've ever cared about. What is the one obscure feature about them you always took note of? The ridiculous little quirk that just drove you crazy with interest. For me, it's hands.

I love hands with character. Hands that look like they have been used well. An artist's hands. A hard worker's hands. A mother's hands. The more lines, the more scars, the more cracked skin, the better.

I wrote a poem about my hands once, in high school. It won an award. I was the only person in the school that did, and I was a sophomore to boot. My only claim to high school fame. It's one of the more honest things I have ever written, pointing out that you could tell what kind of a life I've lived by my hands. I talked about the scars on them and the sad stories behind them. That was over 7 years ago. They are lot more scarred now.

People don't shake my hand often. Seeing a twisted hand scares them. As if it's going to hurt them somehow. Ha, pussies.

My best friend has even more mangled hands than I do. Her joints are fused. She's my other half. My fellow freak. We speak the same language.

She is competing in Miss Wheelchair Utah in a few days. I helped her write her speech. When she wins, I think I might cry. Honestly, it's not much of a competition, she is going to win. Her victory is not what will make me cry. It's more we will be sharing a moment together. A moment that only she and I could ever fully understand. A moment we made.

I told her if she wins I will enter next year. Hmmm...

Go Back To Sleep II

"...you were never really real to begin with.

I just made you up to hurt myself."

-Nine Inch Nails

Amanda says...

Perhaps my broken brain is the adventure I have been waiting for. I think that is the better way to look at it.

So there I was, watching tv and eating Pirate Booty. Oh how I love me some Pirate Booty. A crunchy little snack that melts in your mouth. I was chewing on a delicious piece, when suddenly out of nowhere, it didn't taste quite as delicious. Gradually the taste got worse and worse, to a point where I was unsure I could swallow it. When I finally did, it occurred to me what I was tasting... metal.

As soon as I thought of the word metal, everything went ZING! Zing is the best word I can think to describe it. The taste spread over my entire mouth and throat. And something shot through me... like zing! It wasn't painful, but it was sharp and very disorienting. I could hardly see and the zing rang in my ears. I felt like I was falling even though I was sitting down. I sat straight up and grabbed my head with both hands. I gasped loudly. The gasp is what scared me the most. I had never heard myself make a sound like that, ever. It was like I wanted to scream, but I started to choke on it. I suppose it is what I sound like when I am truly scared.

My "psychosis" returned immediately. As the zing lingered in my body I knew I was dying.

And just as quickly as it hit me, it left me. The episode lasted for one metallic breath. As soon as the breath had left my body, the world stopped spinning. I was alive and well. Once it was over, I sat there confused and terrified. What the fuck was that?!!! I looked around, as if Francis was peeking around the corner, laughing at the joke he had just played on me. I wanted to look him in the eye and cry. I wanted him to see it wasn't funny. I wanted to hold him responsible. But I was alone.

I waited there, determined to be prepared for the next attack. I was ready-- bring it on mother fucker! But it never came.

And I'm left wondering the hell it all means. I feel like I should do something about it. But then again, what is to be done? And to who? Or what?

Francis' greatest weapon is that he is not really real. Perhaps I just made him up to hurt myself.

Is there a way to take it back? I didn't really mean for it to be like this.

I'm not sure I will be able to eat Pirate Booty again.

...fuck! I really liked it too.

Communication

Amanda says...

I talk to myself a lot more these days. Probably because I am spending more time alone. It's not like I'm having an actual conversation (I don't think, anyways), more I am just thinking outloud. It's comforting to say my thoughts. It makes me feel like I commit myself to them. Makes it harder for me to change my mind.

The Narrator says...

And now, a group session.

Lacey and Sparky plop down on the leather couch, one on each side. Susie takes a seat in the chair across from them.

"Okay, what do you want today, Miss Sunshine?" asks Lacey with an already impatient tone.

"Wait a minute, where is Nina?" asks Sparky.

Lacey looks around the room, "Yeah? Where the hell is that hippie? I thought this was suppose to be a group thing-a-muh-jig."

Shrugging her shoulders and waving a hand in the air, Susie says, "Oh don't worry about her. Apparently some guy told her she has a beautiful aura when she smiles, or something like that, and so she has been prancing around for two days now, singing this or that."

Smiling, Sparky says, "So basically she is unreachable at the moment?"

"Completely distracted, yes. Honestly, she is of no concern to me right now."

"Ha. What a sucker," says Lacey with the hint of a smirk. They are all silent for a moment, making her incredibly uneasy. "Okay, seriously, Sue, what are we doing here?"

Susie takes a moment to center herself. She sincerely hates having to be in the same room as this psycho, but she knows she has to do her best to keep it together. Lacey thrives on her ability to unravel her. "As you both know, I am extremely busy with work these days. You two did a fabulous job of tainting my near-perfect record, and it is now up to me, as always, to repair it. It is especially important the next two weeks, during my new training, that I be 100% on my game, else they may no longer feel they need my services. And in these times, unemployment would not be pretty. Especially for a physically challenged woman and an unstable lunatic."

"Please... elaborate on instability. I'm sure you have some insight to offer, Sue."

Sparky speaks up before the pending argument can ensue, "Get to the point, Susie. I think we all have better things to do."

Flashing her world-class smile, which immediately gives away her rage, Susie continues, locking eyes with Lacey. "We need to set up some rules. If I am going to do what I do best, you two need to behave."

Lacey only laughs. Susie continues, "Keep laughing. Let's see if it pays the bills."

"Alright, alright, what the fuck are these rules?" interrupts Sparky, again being the mediator.

"Well, for starters, clean up the language, Sparky. It certainly doesn't appear professional if you are dropping F-bombs and referring to people as Thundercunts under your breath. No matter how incompetent they may be."

Lacey laughs even louder and gives Sparky a high-five,"Classy."

"And as for you... stop writing all over everything! What am I suppose to say to may supervisor when she looks down at my training booklet and sees your serial killer handwriting all over it, spouting off nonsense about other planets and telephone calls?"

"Well, what the hell do you expect?!!! You've got me holed up in a room full of yuppies for hours. I get bored!"

With her smile widening, Susie says through nearly-gritted teeth, "Then bring your own notebook with you. So long as it doesn't belong to me, by all means, scribble your gibberish. Just don't put me in a position to defend your idiocy."

"Oh oh idiocy! Again, I'm all ears, Sue!"

"Oh for Christ's sake. Will you two shut the hell up. Sometimes, I swear you two should just fuck and get it over with already!" snaps Sparky, mediating for the last time. "I admit, I see your point, Susie. I will do my best to make my act PG for the time being. And Lacey, babe, can-it with the hostility for bit. For me. It's exhausting. I will buy you a six-pack to help chill you out. Deal?"

Considering the offer carefully, Lacey reluctantly says, "...deal. But I want Guinness, not PBR, you hear me?!."

"I can do that."

Breathing a sudden sigh of relief, Susie says, "Wonderful. So glad we got that taken care of. You know, you two certainly don't make things easy for me. In fact, you--"

Susie stops mid-complaint as all three of them hear Nina's voice from outside the apartment. The front door opens, and Nina dances her way in, her big Skull-Crusher headphones over her ears. She closes the door behind her, looks at the three of them, puts her fist in the air, and sings at the top of lungs "She's a killer queeeeeeen! Gunpowder, gelatin! Dynamite with a laser beam!!! Guarenteed to blow your mind... Anytiiiiiiime!!!"

And with that, she leaves the three of them sitting in silence with nothing left to say. As she walks down the hall, they hear her song trail off, "Recommended at the price... Insatiable an appetite..."

As always, Queen saves the day.

Someone Said Shredded

"Body"

http://calis.deviantart.com/

Amanda says...

I can't move today. I can feel winter in my bones.

Lacey says...

I haven't slept. I've been awake since yesterday. What the hell is wrong with me?

I think it may be a last gasp. I'm trying to make the joy last, baby. I wanna make sure I get every last drop.

It's snowing. My sanity has already started to slip. I will start to... shred?

Shit.

(I can't stop shaking. Son-of-a-bitch!)

I'll sleep soon.

When I wake up, the snow will have set it in.

I will be stuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Sing With Lust

Nina says...

Wouldn't it be something if I actually had the guts to sing in front of an audience.

I imagine it would be in some dive, blues bar, somewhere in the heart of New Orleans. Some old, run down place off Bourbon Street with too many stories. I would go on around 1:00 a.m., just as the night was winding down. The patrons would be drunk and tired, but they would wait for me. They couldn't possibly go to sleep until they'd heard me sing.

The lights would dim and a blue spot light would hit the stage. It would have to be blue. A smoky, male voice would be heard over the quiet rumble of the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen... Miss Nina would like to bid you all good night."

I would walk onto the stage with me head down, dressed all in black. Calmly I would approach the microphone, still staring at the floor, waiting for my music to arrive. Out of the dark, the first piano notes would hit. And as I opened my mouth, I would look up, the electric blue of my eyes would overwhelm the moment.

My voice would be slow and steady, full of lost inhibitions and carnal desire. I would melt you.

"Love me love me love me

Say you do

Let me fly away

with you

For my love is like

the wind

And wild is the wind

Give me more

than one caress

Satisfy this

hungriness

Let the wind

blow through your heart

For wild is the wind

You...

touch me...

I hear the sound

of mandolins

You...

kiss me...

With your kiss

my life begins

You're spring to me

All things

to me

Don't you know you're

life itself

Like a leaf clings

to a tree

Oh my darling,

cling to me

For we're creatures

of the wind

And wild is the wind

So wild is the wind

Wild is the wind

Wild is the wind"

I would be wild and inconsolable. Something just beyond your reach. A creature not of this world. I would intoxicate you. Lead you on without you ever knowing it. I would take you to a different planet that felt like home.

I would be so beautiful.

"Do you get the gist of the song now?"

-Nina Simone

Go Back To Sleep

"Even now I can feel it, buried somewhere deep inside, watching me, waiting..."

Nina says...


I'm fairly certain that my favorite comic is the Hulk. I just feel like I can relate to Bruce Banner sometimes, ya know? Poor, poor Bruce.





Amanda says...


I hate talking about this stuff, but I feel like it's important to start keeping a record of it somewhere.


So last night I got a migraine. First one I have had in a few months, at least. And when I say migraine, it was a doozy.


The pain started around 3 am. I just sat down and noticed that my head sort of hurt. I took some Ibuprofen, smoked a bowl, and decided to go to bed. Around 3:30 am, my head really started to hurt, and I decided to take a muscle relaxer. At 3:45 am I started to vomit and thereby decided it was going to be a long night, since when that happens it is officially a migraine. Once vomitting starts, I can no longer take any more medication, I will only throw it up. So at that point I was in pain, very sick, and kicking myself for not taking my antinausea medication when I had the chance. I stopped vomitting around 4:30 am, and that is when things start to get fuzzy.


So 4:30 am to about 10:00 am this morning, this is what I know. My head was in tremendous amounts of pain. I remember at one point lying in my bed, rubbing my head, and getting some morbid amusement from feeling all the knots in the muscles around my temple. I remember laughing and saying "Well, Francis, it seems you have come to keep me company tonight." Then I remember suddenly being really scared because I was certain that Francis had come to kill me, and I was alone. I was convinced I was dying. I called a friend, who didn't answer because it was five in the goddamn morning. By the time I hung up the phone, I wasn't even sure why I had called him. I was completely confused. I honestly had no idea what was going on, aside from the fact that my head really fucking hurt.


I think I fell asleep around 6:00. I woke up at 10:00, and I was fine. I had a dull headache, but nothing nearly as bad. I was tired, but I was fine.

So then, what have I learned from this whole event? While Francis is no longer showing up on a regular basis, he is certainly showing more gusto then he has in the past. That's okay, I can handle it. Obviously. I'm still here, and I am fine.


The only thing concerning me, though, is this... confusion, dellusion, psychosis?... I can't find the right word here... that I seem to feel when I am in the midst of an ... episode?... is that the right word? I mean, I know very well now that I was not dying, nor am I ever dying when these things happen. I just have a migraine. Problem is, I am so certain that I am dying at the time. And combining fear with pain is not a good thing.


Hmmm... I'm gonna have to think of possible solutions to this problem. I need to find a way to remind myself that I am fine when I am in those states. Maybe I will make some sort of sign for my room. It will have to read something like "Relax, man" or something that will make me laugh. Something ridiculous and comforting.

She Craves Lemon Pie II

Sparky says...



Try to keep up with me here. I'm still reeling.



First of all, I blame this entire MINDFUCK on that stupid movie the Fourth Kind. Why did I go to a movie that I knew was going to scare me? I couldn't go home to an empty apartment after that.





Have you ever had a person you just couldn't get rid of? They stick to you, cling to you like velcro. Attach themselves to you like a permanent pathogen, always sneaking around from cell to cell in your body, ever ellusive and mutating as time goes on. You'll always have them there, like your favorite scar on your body-- it's probably the most grotesque but it has the most epic story! They are the person you would hate if you didn't love them so fucking much.



I have him. And sometimes he has me. I have felt many things for this man. I have liked, loved, and even hated it. But tonight, I just missed him. I missed the good old times, when our conversations were nothing but awesome bullshit. The days when we picked on each other or sat there and bitched. I wanted my boy back. The friend I could count on to cheer me up just because he knew I needed it. The guy who would get hammered with me so we could argue about Greek Mythology or the deep philosophical meaning behind He who is the Dude.



So I went to visit him. And it was awesome. Nothing ever changes between he and I, no matter how much time passes. It's as if every conversation we have goes exactly as it should.



But then something snuck up on both of us. Our inner voices started screaming at each other, "Haha, remember when we use to fuck? Good times!" We both knew what the other thinking, that is the disgusting beauty of he and I. Suddenly my friend was gone and my lover had returned. What was a perfectly appropriate moment now felt like a moment I was stealing, even though nothing at all happened. It was a "now or never" type of moment. One I can imagine I will look back on and constantly wonder if I made the right decision.

I chose never.

It was the right choice, even if I don't want it to be.


Lacey says...

High five!!!

What About What I Need?

Sparky says...



Whoa, whoa, whoa... I wasn't around when everyone got to do their new life affirmations activity. And call me a selfish bitch, but I want to play too.



I need to be seen. I need to pick a fight, even if it's a petty argument. I need to fuck with people. I need to get all fired up! I need to perfect my act. I need to be narccistic. I need to roll into a room and know I own the attention of every person in it. I need to get in shape. I need to remind myself the past is in the past, you can't take it back, but you can most certainly repeat it.



The last one is the toughest I think. In a lot of ways.

Communication

The Narrator says...

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you a dialog between nemeses.

With a low glare and a slight smirk, Lacey looks up to see a familiar face moving her way. She doesn't bother to get up from her comfy spot on the couch, just says without hesitation, "Well then, what the fuck can I do for you this evening, Miss Sunshine?"

"Charming," Susie says with her practiced smile. She walks calmly over to the opposite end of the couch and sits down gently. "Let us just skip the formalities, shall we," she says as she sits up straight and looks at the floor. "I have a problem. I surprisingly and regretfully need your advice, please."

Lacey's smirk widens. As she looks at the broken mirror across the room from her she sees several faces smiling back at her. She stands up quickly and moves to the chair across from the couch. "Since you asked me so sweetly, please proceed. Just watching the hatred in your eyes when you talk to me delights me. It doesn't even matter what you say."

Susie moves her gaze to Lacey's, and yet again flashes her perfected grin. "As I was saying, I have a problem. You may have recently noticed that this apartment is now officially occupied by only one person. There are no roommates to compromise with, as well as no roommates to possibly trash something. The extra room is empty, I need to fill it. Quickly."

With an expression that gives no hints, Lacey waits for the rest of the story. When nothing is said, she says, "What? Do you want my help picking out the drapes? Why the fuck does this concern me? This isn't my area, Sue."

"Su-SIE!" snapped back the nevermore particular Miss Susie Sunshine, with a nevermore larger smile, "Now, I realize that home decor is not your area, thank goodness. Rest assured I have plans in the works to turn that into the best room in the apartment. However, my current problem is something much more... irrational... I think that's the word for it. That is absolutely your area."

"If it's so irrational, what the problem?" Lacey says.

"I'm having trouble going into the room. It scares me."

Laughing slowly, Lacey says,"What the fuck is wrong with you? It's just a room."

"Of course I know that! I didn't mean I was irrational, I meant the problem is irrational," says Susie desperately trying to keep her cool. God, what she would give to be having this conversation over the phone right now. She imagines typing the word cunt over and over again on the word processor of her work computer and starts to feel a little calmer.

"I stick by my answer, Sue, "says Lacey winking. "It is only a room. What's scary about that?"

"I have already thought of three things. One, lots of empty, ominous space. Two, the sounds. Because of the empty space, it echoes. And three, I have never gone in that room much. I realize that even though I have lived here for four years now, that room has always belonged to a roommate. So I just, never went in there. It feels like I don't belong in there."

Lacey rolls her eyes and says, "This is ridiculous." She stands up and grabs Susie's arm pulling to her to her feet.

Protesting, but knowing she can't get away from her grip, Susie firmly says,"Oh please, this is completely unnecessary."

Ignoring her plea, Lacey drags her through the living room and down the hallway, saying, "It's just a fuckin' room." She turns the door nob of the room and shoves it open. The sound of it slamming against the closet behind it surrounds them as they enter. Lacey pulls Susie to the middle of the room and turns to face her. "So here we are. What now?" she says throwing her hands in the air.

Susie looks down, "I think it's just so empty."

Again rolling her eyes, Lacey says, "No it's not. You and I are in it."

With that, Lacey marches out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Yet again, the sound is amplified. Susie hears her say from outside the door,"Now you're in it. Stop wasting my time."

She hears her walk down the hallway and out the front door. Susie stands alone in the room and realizes the little cunt is absolutely right. "What now, indeed."

Harvest Time

Amanda says...

I needed a project. I didn't realize I needed one so much until I started this one.

You know, something happened when I started working at the haunted house. It allowed me to tap into a creative part of myself I may have never found. I don't know why or how I came up with Lacey. But for five years she has been brewing in my mind, even after place closed. She's been gaining momentum, running around, becoming more complex over time.

I think I love it.

So I made a Halloween costume. At least, that was my excuse. The costume took me just under a month to make. I am fairly certain I'm going to keep adding to it, especially the jacket. Honestly, I have now created another layer to this whole Lacey complex. It's starting to get ridiculous. But I'm just going roll with it.

This is the back of the straight jacket.
Made of old t shirts and safety pins.

The front and sleeves of the jacket.
The patch on the left arm was from my Fear of Going Insane tank from the haunted house. It was tough to cut it up, but worth it.

The front and back of the pants.

"Sweet Dreams (Are Made of These)," by The Eurythmics.
"Crazy," Patsy Cline.
I think this is my favorite section on the pants.

From The Shining, by Stephen King.
Currently reading this, like I do every Fall.

Of course.
It almost fills the whole left pant leg.

From 12 Monkies.
The whole right pant leg is dedicated to the movie.

The pants also include:
Excerpts from the movies Session 9 and Silence of the Lambs.
An excerpt from the book Fight Club, by Chuck Palahniuk.
Lyrics from "They're Coming to Take Me Away," by Dr. Dimento, "Crazy," by Gnarles Barkley, and "Only," by Nine Inch Nails.
And a quote from Edgar Allen Poe.

Lacey says...

I feel pretty...
Oh so pretty...

Please... Not Yet! Ha!

Nina says...

Yes, Freddy! Do it to me!!!!

"Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time
I feel alive and the world it's turning inside out Yeah!
I'm floating around in ecstasy
So don't stop me now don't stop me
'Cause I'm having a good time having a good time

I'm a shooting star leaping through the skies
Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity
I'm a racing car passing by like Lady Godiva
I'm gonna go go go
There's no stopping me

I'm burning through the skies Yeah!
Two hundred degrees
That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit
I'm trav'ling at the speed of light
I wanna make a supersonic man of you

Don't stop me now I'm having such a good time
I'm having a ball don't stop me now
If you wanna have a good time just give me a call
Don't stop me now ('Cause I'm having a good time)
Don't stop me now (Yes I'm having a good time)
I don't want to stop at all

I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars
On a collision course
I am a satellite I'm out of control
I am a sex machine ready to reload
Like an atom bomb about to
Oh oh oh oh oh explode

I'm burning through the skies Yeah!
Two hundred degrees
That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit
I'm trav'ling at the speed of light
I wanna make a supersonic woman out of you

Don't stop me don't stop me don't stop me
Hey hey hey!
Don't stop me don't stop me
Ooh ooh ooh (I like it)
Don't stop me have a good time good time
Don't stop me don't stop me
Ooh ooh Alright"

Sparky says...

I feel better. And I shouldn't.

I needed to do something to remind me of how bad ass I can really be. Just a little pick-me-up. Nothing too intense, just something tiny to get me through my emo night.

I stole something. I shit you not, I did. You know how I have had this little itch lately to see if I could get away with murder? Well, I scratched it a bit.

Now before you start thinking something grand (Hollywood, big-budget where I roll into the convenient store, my scooter equipped with lethal lasers, and demand preposterous items), let me ruin the awe of your curiosity... I only shoplifted one, inconsequential item. A small package of feminine napkins. I figured if I happened to get caught carting that out the big sliding doors, at least I could pull a cripple card, start to cry, and plead with the clerks that I was just too embarrassed to buy them! Honestly, what would they do to a frantic, physically challenged, young woman in tears who was only stealing some pads? Never mind that I have bought condoms there on several occasions before.

I kept it simple. I just slipped the package into my basket, along with a few other items I decided I "needed." Then, I rolled nonchalantly (any ideas on a cripple-friendly term for "strolled?") down a deserted costume aisle and slipped it into my purse. I paid for my other items, and cruised by the security detectors on my way out the doors. Simple. Discreet. Victorious.

I doubt the clerks took much note of me. Aside, from maybe the stray thought of "Oh, here's that cute disabled girl who always comes in at weird hours to grocery shop." Not a suspicion in the world. Oh yes, Jesus is good to the cripples sometimes.

As a strange afterthought, I noticed another shoplifter while I myself was shoplifting. (I always seem to notice the sketchy people!) He was dumber than I was. I kept running into him while I was looking for an empty aisle. He was a scruffy-looking fellow, wearing a big coat, and pushing around a nearly empty cart. Every time we saw each other, he became more uneasy. I can only imagine what he thought. I wonder if it was even beyond him to think that I could be a shoplifter. I'd like to think maybe he thought I was more likely a cop of sorts. A shoplifting mole. Ha! Because that would happen!

And one final note, don't get your panties in a twist, Miss Sunshine. I doubt I will do it again. The act served its purpose, I am satisfied.

Please, Not Yet

Nina says...

Only Wumpscut is loud enough for me today.


Sparky says...

Weight. It's always been a huge issue for me. It's always been a huge issue for my whole family.

Growing up I would say alcoholism and drug addiction was the first problem, but it was followed very closely and with just as much gusto by the weight topic. Throughout my life my father has bounced back and forth between 175 lbs to upwards of 300 lbs. I even suspect that he first started using cocaine, which would eventually lead to one of his downfalls, as a means to lose weight. His depression would set in, and he would eat to cope, since he couldn't use drugs anymore. Then as he would gain more weight, he would get more depressed, he would eat more, and so on. Until finally he would reach a breaking point where he would decided enough is enough, and turn to some radical diet or supposed miracle supplement (years ago he was one of the people who fell into the whole Fen-Phen debacle, losing a dramatic 200 lbs). All of this of course was to no avail, since the radical weight loss is simply what starts the whole cycle over again.

And then there is my mother. A woman who has never felt beautiful enough. She had/has has an eating disorder my life. She wouldn't eat anything at all, or if she did, she would either over-exercise or "feel sick" shortly after a meal. Growing up, my father had to practically be a drill sergeant about her eating habits, making damn certain she was eating, what she was eating, how much she was eating, when she was eating, and so forth. If he didn't do it, she wouldn't. I was often my father's spy. He would come home from work and ask for the daily report on my mother. I thought this was normal for a long time, just assuming that's the way things worked. When I was 10 I caught my mother throwing up behind a locked door. I panicked, thinking only that mommy is sick and I can't get to her! When she came out of the bathroom she sat me down, looked me in the eye, and said, "I was only sick. Okay? I was just sick and I am better now. Okay?" She stopped throwing up after that night. Her hands no longer smelled like vomit all the time, and she would actually stick around for conversation when dinner was through. However, even today, eating is not easy for her. I find myself having dinner with her more often than I should, just to make sure she is eating.

Then there are my own weight issues. I use to be a fat girl. At my heaviest I was close to 170 lbs. This is not in my head, I have pictures to prove it. Being fat and in a wheelchair, what a horrible combination. I lost the weight and I swore to myself I would never go back. I dare say there is no more of a euphoric feeling than having all the people look at you in wonder and tell you how good you look. And to know you look better than you did, and to know you put in the effort to improve yourself. My greatest fear is to have the tables turn. To be the subject of ridicule for letting myself go, again. To have those same people who offered me praise say what a shame it all is.

I'm having a fat day. I feel fat. I look fat. I am fat.

Fuck all the mirrors in my apartment.

Persy says...

You fat fucking cow
What the hell is wrong with you?
You're absolutelely disgusting
And you know it
But you won't fix it
How dare you make me endure this!
Again

Put the pieces back together
Like a pretty little puzzle
Make it perfect
Pronto!

Are We There Yet?

"All the odds are in my favor
Something's bound to give in"
-Cabaret

The Narrator says...

When just one decides to knock, they all knock. When just one breaks loose, do they all flee?


Amanda says...

A lot going on in my head lately! It's made it difficult to write because I am having trouble organizing all my ideas, they are all jumbled in my mind, speaking to me all at once. It's the Fall season, it always stimulates my creativity. But man, it's crazy this year! I feel like at any moment my thoughts will start spilling from my ears.


Nina says...

It's happening again. For the first time in years... it is happening again. Music is no longer just background noise, it's something to absorb. I find myself stopping in the middle of doing something important to get lost in whatever is playing in my headphones. I suddenly forget what I am doing and follow a heavy beat. I... just... can't... help it! Music has become a complete experience again. I see, hear, smell, taste and feet it. It rips me from this world and shoves me into a war zone in my mind, and the battle is epic! Bombs of the most symphonic noise burst before me and send gravel composed of vibrant colors flying through the aromatic air around me! I am lost before I even have time to remember where I came from.

It's all about the music again. And it's all thanks to one ridiculous, girly, gay television show: Glee. That's right, I said it, GLEE!!! I'm saying it loudly, proudly and completely without shame, I love Glee! It's my new drug.

Their rendition of Maybe This Time, from Cabaret brought me to actual tears. (True story.) It's amazing what inspires me these days.

P.S. Natalie just gets me this morning:

"Ophelia was a tempest cyclone
A god damned hurricane
Your common sense
Your best defense
Lay wasted and in vain

Ophelia'd know your every woe
And pain you'd ever had
She'd sympathize
And dry your eyes
And help you to forget...

Ophelia's mind went wandering
You'd wonder where she'd gone
Through secret doors
Down corridors
She'd wander them alone
All alone..."

Sparky says...

So something has changed. Things are definitely different these days. Not than I'm complaining, I adore change! It's all about reinvention. But I didn't mean to change this time. Hell, I don't even know what I changed.

How do I know something has changed? Well, allow me to get blatantly egotistical for a moment.

The men are flocking to me. And they are all men from my past who decided to overlook me. It's almost like a buzzer went off in their heads, letting them know it was time for a girl like me in their lives. I've heard things like "You know, I have no idea why I never took it to the next step with you," and "I always liked you, I just don't know why I never did anything about it," oh and this one "I just need a guy with tits and a vagina, just like you!"

I will be honest with you, boys, if you had come to me back in the day, I would have melted for you. You would have made me gitty, totally at the command of your will. I would have given you everything. But you didn't say it back then, when it mattered. And I moved on without even realizing it.

I don't want to be with any of them. It's not because I think I'm better than them or because they've treated me badly. They are all perfect. I just don't want to be with anyone. I'm enjoying being selfish too much.

...what the fuck?! Seriously! How is this fair? Is this Jesus' ultimate punishment, an incongruity of hearts? I don't know.

And when did I grow an ego? Oh oh! Maybe that's what changed. Yeah. Ha.

Or maybe, they just want to be in my book. Sneaky bastards.


Susie says...

Busy, busy, busy. Work, play, write, travel... I hardly have time for it all.

I am at my best under these conditions. I work well under pressure. I like forcing myself to be productive. And having the chance to excel. I've decided I need competition in my life. What's the point if I don't have someone to one up? Even if that someone is only myself.

The only discouraging thing is my severe lack of money to show for all my business. True I am broker than a joke at the moment. But I will just consider that another challenge.


Lacey says....

Hahahaha, yes! I'm having so much fun right now. Out here in the open, for all the people to gawk at, to fear. I want them all to see me, to love me for reasons they are unsure of. And right when I have them where I want them, I will switch it up and change the game. Confuse them. Weed out the weak ones. Destroy them.

This season is much better than I could have ever imagined. I'm living it up while I can.

You know what they say... the higher they rise, the harder they fall. And we are pretty fuckin high right now. Just remember what happened last November, and the November before that, and even the November before that! The leaves fall, and the snow sets in. And all those grand emotions we fire up suddenly become stifled by the cold. It creates a mess. A mess we have narrowly made it through in the past.

The joy will die with the first snow. As soon as I'm caged, I will lose it, like always. I know it. You know it. We all know it.

So skip to the sway of the ticking clock sucking away the seconds. Play well now. Pay the price later.

Do you understand... FINALLY?!!!

Amanda says...

I visited a haunted house in Phoenix. It felt nice to scratch the itch I always feel around this time of year.


Lacey says...

I went home. I forgot how much I missed it.

The smell is gone. So are the dark corners. And the ghosts. (I never would have thought I would miss them.) But it still feels perfect. And the same old music is playing... "You couldn't turn back time, thank you, Einstein. Now he... HE was nuts!"

And waiting for me was a synthetic joker, a would be Dark Night with a fake smile. He tried so very hard to stand his ground. Silly boy.

We'll see what the funny man looks like
When he frowns
I'll turn that smile upside down
Pull those teeth out one by one
I won't stop till they're all gone

It's so easy to play a person
Who's already been portrayed
But I dare you!
Plunge deep within yourself
Pull out the darkest pieces
And put them on parade
For all the people to poke and prod at
Plunder your pain
Pillage the potential
Pick at the possibilities

You are far too frightened to be fearless
You are a fake
You are finishd

Oh...
Why so serious now?

He got in my face and tried so hard to make me see the funny side of life. He did his best to stare me down and convince me of his freedom. But when I did nothing but stare back, with a silent intent that led him to believe I would destroy him if only I wasn't contained, he coward before me. Despite his best efforts, he was not a worthy adversary. He wanted me to see chaos in him. Instead, he found it within me. Once he saw it, he wouldn't even look at me anymore. It seems I still have a place where the more I hate people, the better the show. And it's a good thing. It's a great thing.

Funny how a spook house can be so important. For Christ sake it's just a bunch of ply wood and eerie lighting. But it brought me out to play. I guess something real can emerge from make-believe.


Sparky says...

God I love to perform! Especially in a place where I particularly fit in. I really think that someday I just may run away and join a sideshow. It just feels so right sometimes.