Is Something Burning?

Amanda says...

My seasonal blues have kicked in early this year. Too early. They are bleeding in to what is usually my favorite time of year. My best time of year.

I have a feeling it's going to be a long, cold, quiet couple of months. Not scary. ...just sad. And desperately lonely.

Perhaps I put myself in this position, though. Perhaps there will be a method to my madness. I would be so thrilled to find something to show for it all by Spring.

I hope.

Or perhaps I will be as hopeless as Jack Torrence, searching for what he lost in a dark, endless winter that consumes him.


Lacey says...

I am content to crouch.
Quietly.
...carefully.

Like a chaos kept in close quarters.
I will cook.
Incubate.
Become.

I will claw my way out when I'm crispy.

Underground

Insanity, can it be vanity? Where is the humanity?

And havin' a twisted fantasy with an arm a leg amputee

Straight jacket with a hundred and eight brackets

And a strap that wraps twice around my back

Then they latch it

-Eminem

Susie says...

You would think the worst part of my job would be having to help people who are more stupid than I am all day long. You would think. The truth is, that torment almost doesn't compare to working for people who are more stupid than I am. It is a game of patience I fear I am slowly starting to lose.

I have always struggled with being passive aggressive. I'm too ambitious.


Lacey says...

Insanity is coming this early. Can you smell it in the air, Miss Sunshine. Nipping at your nose. Making your hair stand on end. Like an electrical charge--lightning about to strike. The anticipation is so much worse than it's arrival. Wouldn't you agree?

Put 'em up, Sue. I'm ready to dance around the ring with. Oh so ready.

She Craves Lemon Pie III

Sparky says...

I hate it when he makes me feel like shit. He knows exactly how to. And I'd like to think he doesn't mean it. But he does. He is too smart not to.

Then again, I am too smart to let him continue to hurt me. Or to be all that offended anymore.

I suppose my heart will always break at least a little for him. He counts on it. And so do I.

Call it our sick and twisted way of still being together without actually being together.

Persy says...

Oh you poor little baby

Saving all your stupid tears for a moment that will matter

It will never matter

Get over it

You are inching closer to the blade

Try as you might to satisfy the urge

With booze and ciguarettes...

It will never satitate

A slow ache is no substitute

For quick and sharp penetration

Penetrate

Penetrate

Penetrate...

Pretty, pretty please

Purge

Amanda says...

I'm broke and depressed. Survival mode has kicked in, luckily. And either fate or coincidence (maybe both) has made the situation do-able.

I have a new roommate. I promised myself I was done with that. But sometimes shit happens.

Nina says...

Oh yes. It's become my new Lebowski. It makes my heart happy, especially before bed.

Susie says...

Alright, ladies. It's true, times have gotten a bit tough. But we all know I thrive under pressure. I will fix this. I realize and truly appreciate that you have made sacrifices. Incredibly uncomfortable sacrifices, yet, important sacrifices. Thank you for that.

Just stick with me--trust me--and things will start to feel normal again very soon. I give you my word, you will feel right at home in no time.

Sparky says...

Have I ever thanked you, Jesus? I don't think I ever have... Therfore, thank you soooo much for two of your greatest miracles. 1. Beer. (Seriously, you fuckin' rock for that one!) 2. Thank you for giving me a social niche and the conversational skills to work it. It makes it so much easier to attain and enjoy number 1.

Well now that we have gotten that out of the way.

I have made a decision. A subconscious one at first, it started mostly as a joke. It has now become a cemented rule: I will not fuck anyone new until I finish my book. Period. End of story. It will provide motivation to finish, if nothing else.

(Pray for me that I actually stick to it.)

Lacey says...

Oh my literary puzzle, you are starting to fit together so well.

Lacey ise loved.

Loved. Lovely. Longed for. And looking.

But Lacey is not lost.

She is found. Straight. Forward.

She knows where she is going.

And Lacey is not left.

She is right. Correct. True.

Lacey is not a lie.

Because Lacey is lucky.

Like the color lime green.

Not black. Or blue. Or brown.

Because Lacey is alive!

Striving. Thriving. Hypnotizing.

Tick-tocking your time away.

Till tomorrow becomes today.

Sway with her.

As she slithers up her spine.

She's slippery.

And like trickery...

She'll seduce you.

And sweep you away.

She'll sing to you. Soothe you.

And swear to you she'll stay.

She'll satiate your unsatisfiable starvation.

She'll save your soul one second!

Just to slice it up.

Swallow it down...

And savor it in the next.

But before you're aware.

You're addicted.

Inflicted!

Conflicted...

Craving her carnage.

And cursing your own curiosity.

You'll call for her.

Cling to her.

Cry. Cringe. And collapse.

Then you will crawl to her.

And she'll caress you.

Comfort and console you.

You will quiver with each calculated kiss.

As she consumes you.

Confuses you. Complicates you.

Creating something chaotic.

Where quiet composition once was.

She'll cut you down.

Contorting your character.

Till you will kill for her.

Becoming her criminal.

Committing crimes of a cataclysmic caliber.

She creeps... She creeks...

You can hear her coming.

Like the cock of a 12 gauge shotgun.

Locked. Loaded.

And longing to level you.

Aaaaaahhh!!!!!

"He who laughs last, usually laughs alone."

- The Penguin, Joker's Asylum

Nina says...

It's officical. I have become a comic book geek.

Sparky says...

The blue is showing in the sky. The hint that the relentless dawn is fast on its way.

I've decided this is the loneliness time of day. Even with a pint of whiskey in me at the break of dawn, I am stil awake and ever alert. I am the only one awake.

Sometimes, this time of day makes me long for a companion. Someone to watch the sun rise with. Some miserable clown, like me, who drags on the night hours. Because it is the only time that seems to belong to us. Quiet hours, when no one really wants anything but easy conversation. The good stuff, about the meaning of our lives and what not. It is the bonding hour, where we freaks can really connect.

My heart aches lately. I don't know what for yet.

Wired

Bright Lights

Lacey says...

Oh my dear, Sparky. What have you gotten yourself into?

And I thought Susie was a slut. Turns out you are just as eager to sell your soul for a shot at the big time. We both know you will do it. And that by the end of it you will be nothing more than a cute little credit for the people to gawk at. You can hold your breath all you want, hoping the story associated with it is worth telling. As for me, I'm breathing deep and moving on.

They own you now. And he owns your words.

...that's the real matter at hand. The story is up in the air. And who knows, he may actually surprise me with what he writes. He's a good writer. But if I can help it, it will be the last thing he ever writes about you.

Never trust a cat. They may look at you with big blue eyes that make you think they are there for you completey. But underneath it all, they are self-serving. You are only as good as the attention you give them. And when put to the test, they will prove it to you. They will leave you high and dry without batting an eye, because they already got what they wanted out of you.

You have become irrelevant.

So show me the dotted line where we sign our soul away. Promise me the world and I will give you my signature. Let's get this show on the road!

You are going to make the most fabulous Little Trooper this world has ever seen.

Exquisite Corpse

Nina says...

Oh Hedwig, my dear. You've taught me the art of imperfection.

"Some girls they got natural ease

They wear it any way they please

With their French flipped curls

And perfumed magazines

Wear it up

Let it down!

This is the best way that I've found

To be the best you've ever seen."

Sparky says...

I've always wanted a chance to be brilliant. A chance to do something I'm good at. A chance to make people understand. A chance to display my so-called imperfections to the world and not only be proud of them, but make the world love them.

Well, maybe not love them. But see them. Really see them.

I have no idea what to do with a dream come true. So I am not calling it that yet. I'm just going to call it getting busy.

But I would be lying if I didn't say I'm holding my breath.

Susie says...

Now now, Sparky. Let's not get carried away.

You can daydream later. For now, please go to bed. Some of us actually work in a few hours.

Ghryc II

Susie says...

I've never been so grateful to have Francis show up. For once, he was actually useful. He put an end to something that never should have started in the first place. At least for now.

Lacey says...

Well let's just be honest, you turned out to be a total fucking waste of time. Nothing but an awkward, gothic kid trying to make it big. You drove over 800 miles for what exactly?

Do you feel like a fool? Were you shocked to find an actual monster lurking underneath the dark intrigue? Or did your fascination slowly ferment into fear... Fear that you couldn't help drink like some potion in hopes of making your attempted act real?

I knew the moment you walked in. You wouldn't look me in the eye. Your shock at your own bravery was so obvious. I should have just sent you home then. But your game was far too tempting to pass up. You were so vulnerable. The tables turned so tenderly and tragically once you wondered so far away from home. And you really had no idea.

I tested your boundaries. And you tried to remain. You twisted that tongue and told your tall tales. You tried to sell me your sadistic stories, and feed me false fury. But the truth is you were retreating. And I let you think I was retarded.

I practically begged you to break me. But beneath your breath, you backed away. Baby.

The panic in your eyes when you saw real pain was priceless.

Hear this now... "Hate" fuck me. I dare you! Destroy me. Please, baby, please! Tie me down and take my trust. Gag me till I give in. Show me that unmerciful rage you've warned me of. Pull my hair back and whisper in my ear all the horrible things I want to hear me. Humiliate me. Hunt me. Hurt me.

...hahahahahahaha!

Francis Watch?

Amanda says...

I don't know why, but lately I have been experiencing only what I can describe as an unusual alertness. A sensitivity of some sort.

My mania is more manic. I find myself in either a really high high, or a very low low. I feel like it's been a while since I've seen middle ground. It doesn't take much to upset me to the point of tears. However, it is very easy to cheer me up again. Too easy.

I've been having flashbacks too. At random times. I haven't had those in over a year.

I'm also having weird visual and auditory... well, hallucinations is what you would call them, I guess. Basically, sometimes I will look at something brightly colored, and it will appear to flash at me. Just all of the sudden it will light up for a second. And then it will go away. (My colorful house has been tripping the fuck out!) And I am hearing weird shit. I swear I can constantly hear a washing machine running when I'm in my bathroom. Every time I'm in there. And only in the bathroom. A washing machine. Weird, I know!

I would be scared that I'm going crazy... but I already know these things are crazy. I know they don't make sense. I know that it probably means there is something wrong with me. I'm cool with that.

But I am curious. What the fuck is going on?

Corner-Baggy Blues

Nina says...

I love spending nights alone with Freddy. He just gets me, ya know?

"I work hard every day of my life

I work till I ache my bones

At the end of the day I take home my hard-earned pay

All on my own

I get down on knees

And I start to pray

Till the tears run down from my eyes

Lord! Somebody? Somebody!

Can anybody find me somebody to love?"

Sparky says...

Sometimes, when it's quiet like this in the apartment, I wonder what it would be like to be in love. I've realized it really wouldn't take much to make me a happy woman.

He wouldn't give me much attention, because he would know I don't like it. But we would still hang out a lot. I imagine us sitting side by side for hours, not speaking, just doing our own thing. Together. Occasionally nudging one another, thanking the other for taking up space so well.

We would talk about music a lot. We would dedicate each night of the week to a different artist, teaching each other our favorites. Critiquing. Debating. Listening.

Our arguments would be wonderful. Never about anything important, but passionate nonetheless. Because we would both be stubborn. We would bicker constantly, always pushing the other's buttons.

Most importantly, we would go. Whenever and wherever we felt like. We wouldn't make plans.

I like this man, whoever he is. I hope I meet him someday.

Restless

Nina says...

I'm so bored with this world and everyone in it. Everything is the same lately. Predictable and so unworthy of my time.

I'm going to drastically change things soon. Again.

I can't stand being on THIS planet alone anymore. Time to find another.

Punk II

Amanda says...

I hate today. I hate this whole week. And there is no getting around it either, that's the kicker. I wish I could just hit the fast forward button; next week please! I can't help it either. I try so hard not to remember the date. But once I look at the calendar, all the negative thoughts start rolling in. I can't stop those either, anymore than I can stop June from having a third... or a fourth, fifth, sixth... Though I secretly hope that someday I can.

More than anything I wish I could cut it all away. Remove it. Erase the significance from my memory. I would rather be bored right now, a clean slate. Free of the ghosts.

The date feels stained, just like I feel stained. Used already, reserved. Tainted.

I miss feeling whole. Like a real person.

I hate remembering the things I may never get back.

Persy says...

Did someone say cut?

I dare you to try

Maybe you really can make it all go away

Go on, give it a whirl

Attempt to carve it away

I'll cheer you on

So you won't be alone

I bet you can do it

Just pick up the blade

And see what happens

...I won't tell a soul.

Breakthrough

The Narrator says...

You have to understand, it was a perfect moment. A symphony of stimulation. Each entity that dwells within her was completely satisfied. They were synchronized: one.

"A Mess to Be Made," by the Format played in one ear, to Nina's pure delight.

American Psycho, playing in the other room, could be heard in the other ear, easing Lacey's urge for violent rebellion to a situation beyond her control, distracting her from self-sabotage.

On the other end of the shared headphones a charming boy sat across from Sparky, singing to her while holding her gaze and attention in the strangest of stares.

The boy was eloquent and inteligent, which of course, impressed Susie.

He told her nice things about herself, leaving Persy at a loss for words.

You see, a perfect moment. Rare, beautiful, and happy. A moment she would never get back, making hesitation the same as failure.

It was a moment that had to end in a kiss because it would have been wrong to let it slip away unrecognized.

Social Experimenting

"Boy, you think you're clever, don't ya

Girl, you think you're so smart

Come with me to another side

In a world so cold and so dark

Stay wide awake

A world so dark, a world so cold

A world where only some will go

But none return

When will they learn

Where do they go

God only knows

Stay wide awake

So dark and so cold

My friends don't know this other side of me

There's a monster inside of me

It's quite ugly and it frightens me

But they can't see what I can see

There's a vacancy in my tummy

It's makin' me play hide'n seek like Jason

I'm so hungry"

-Eminem

Nina says...

Okay, no more smoking weed before we go out. Things just get too weird.

Sparky says...

I went to a nearby coffee shop tonight. I never go on Sunday evenings, but I found myself not wanting to be home and I was in the mood to write. So off I went.

I arrived only to find my comfortable, hang out swarming with teenagers. I had unintentionally wandered into an Open Mic Night.

And then it started to rain. Literally, within the minute I entered the shop... downpour!

I was trapped for a little while.

My thoughts started to race a bit. I don't think I can properly explain the dread. It was comparable to what I'm sure a cornered animal feels. A mixture of fear and fury.

I tried not to panic. I realized I could either let this happen, or I could get cold and wet. Neither sounded appealing, so I said "fuck it" and decided to order some coffee.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, I was spotted! In my state of quiet frenzy I had overlooked the fact that the kid standing next to me in line was an old acquaintance. I had worked with his older brother at the haunted house. I distinctly remember him unsuccessfully propositioning me to have sex in one of the coffins almost every night one season, till I had one of my Boys talk to him. He is currently in prison for the rape and attempted murder of his girlfriend. The brothers could have been twins, they looked so much alike. Needless to say, I was not expecting to see this kid tonight. By the time I realized who he was I was too far into small talk to get out, with a big, polite, shit-eating grin on my face.

The kid offered to buy my coffee. I pretended not to hear him over the roar of angsty teen poets, staring off into the crowd. But then he asked me a second time, already with the money in his hand. "You sure you don't want anything?" he said. Before I could answer, or not answer, the barista, who of course recognized me, said "Oh yeah, she's a White Mocha girl." Now I was fucking committed. Shit.

I decided it would be best to sit outside, despite the cold. Most of the young people were inside, plus my new friend wasn't too keen on it. I figured as long I stayed under the metal canopy, out of the rain, it wouldn't be that bad.

The kid sat with me for a bit, we made more small talk. I got worse and worse at it as it went on; I don't have much patience for that type of conversation. I intentionally let things get boring, especially after he mentioned me coming to hang out with him at his new place. He finished up a cigarette and informed me he was going inside to listen. I didn't object.

Immediately after he was gone, I quickly got my iPod and notebook out. I was going to make the place habitable till the rain stopped, goddamit!

Sunddenly! ...(I promise you, the events of this evening really did happen quite quickly and unexpectedly.)... but yes, SUDDENLY! A herd of minors started piling out of the shop. Apparently, the first Round was over. I instantly regretted sitting with my back to the door, because I heard them before I saw them. It was terrifying.

I was surrounded within seconds. They overtook the table I was at without saying a word. They completely ignored me. I sat right in the middle of them, and they hardly looked at me. They knew I was there, it was obvious I made them nervous. I found it amusing for a little while. I just sat there, staring at them as they spoke, waiting to see if any of them would ask me what the hell my problem was. They did nothing.

Isn't it interesting how the teenager acts? They literally choose not to acknowledge the strange and unusual because it makes them so nervous. Because it scares them. Yet, they also have no problem moving in on it, trying to outcast it. So comfortable in a crowd of their peers.

Well, I could only handle so much of that before I'd had enough. Soon the headphones went in and the black hood went up. The Eminem started blasting and I started writing, in that wonderful serial-killer way. And soon I started bouncing to the music, obviously doing my own thing. I closed my eyes.

When I opened them again most of the kids who had been sitting with me were standing, some of them in the rain. Eventually they all went back inside for Round Two.

I sat there writing. And waited for the rain to stop.

...honestly, I feel like it was a successful experiment, really. A bit uncomfortable, but I think I came out victorious in the end.

Lacey says...

It really is starting to come together. It won't be long till it's finished.

Lacey is loved.

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 the color lime green.

Not black. Or blue. Or brown.

Lacey is alive.

Thriving. Striving. Hypnotizing.

Tick-tocking your time away.

Till tomorrow becomes today.

Sway with her.

As she slithers up your spine.

She's slippery.

Like trickery.

She'll seduce you.

And sweep you away.

She'll sing to you.

Soothe you.

And swear to you she'll stay.

She'll satiate your unsatisfiable starvation.

She'll save your soul one second.

Just to slice it up,

Swallow it down,

And savor it in the next.

Before you're aware

You're addicted.

Inflicted.

Conflicted.

Creep

Sparky says...

Fuck it.

Lady Goodman

Sparky says...

I remember when I was seventeen years old I saw the movie Almost Famous. As cheesy at it sounds, it changed my life. More specifically the character Penny Lane changed my life.

I saw in her everything I wanted to be. She is a creature of the moment. Heartbreaking now, only to be enchanting later. A go-getter. An artist. A muse.

I think that is when I decided I was ready to move on in my life. I was ready to live. It was the beginning of my reinvention.

Psycho!

Nina says...

There are no words. Only heavy beats.

Sparky says...

Party mode: engaged!

Of course, I have been painfully reminded of the greatest annoyance of playing the social butterfly. I also happen to be a creep magnet. How the hell did I forget that?

I wish I could have a talk with these boys before they decide I'm their game for the night. At least give them a heads up. Let them know it doesn't matter how many compliments they pay me, or how sincere their "little trooper" admiration speech is. I still know what they are doing. And I know why they're doing it. I wanna tell them they got gypped on their fleece coat, because they still look like a wolf to me.

Lacey says...

The first thing he did when I entered the door was smell me. He put his nose right above my head, almost nestled in my hair, and said, "Oh my God, you smell amazing." It wasn't the fact that he did it, it was the way he did it. He hovered, I could almost feel his deep breathing not even inches away from me. I immediately thought of Jack the Ripper. And suddenly this man, who had always seemed off to me, was my predator.

The night raged on, and he hunted. He followed me like my biggest fan. He sat next to me, he stood by my side. He drank what was left of my shots when I was too drunk to get all the booze down, sometimes plucking the glass from my hand. He laughed at my jokes. He complimented me. He told me I was amazing.

By the end of the night he was caressing my back and giving me too many hugs. He lingered... all night he lingered, like he was waiting for more.

I didn't say much to him. Quite honestly I was waiting for the alcohol to make him go away. And yet, he stayed.

And at one very drunken point in the night. He put his hand on my back and said, "I feel like I'm paying you a lot of attention," he stared down at me, "I feel like I am paying you too much attention." And there he waited!

...and did I mention his girlfriend was passed out not ten feet away from this entire shit show?

All I could do was laugh and walk away.

Keep it up, fucker. Keep it up.

Don't Stop Me Now

Lacey says...

I have made the recent presumption that I am going to be a spinster for the rest of my life. It is not nearly as sad as everyone believes. Honestly, I am quite comfortable with the idea.

Allow me to tell you why...

My life is full of pain. Physical and emotional. That is not my imagination, nor is it an exaggeration. It is quite simply a fact. How could it not be? I am a physically challenged woman. I am not the norm. My life is not easy compared to most. My future is unpredictable. If I grow old, it will be a painful, debilitating, and most likely deforming process.

I am perfectly fine with this fact, most days. In fact, usually I don't even notice the degree of my hardships. Sometimes I even doubt there is a degree. Most days, my hardships are just life to me.

How have I learned to deal? Humor. I have a wonderful sense of humor about myself. There really is nothing funnier to me than a good, real tragedy. Why not laugh at what you can't change? That is my philosophy, and it has done me well. But I realize it is a philosophy that most don't understand. I know that more often than not, I am laughing alone.

It is hard to ask someone to accept a life of constant "tragedy." And I don't think I have the patience to reassure someone that it is all okay when it isn't. This why I think I will most likely be single forever.

At this point in my life, I am okay with that, because I am not willing to settle for just anything ever again. I deserve the best. Even if the "best" may not be realistic.

I am not going to hold my breath for Mr. Right. I am too picky. And I have grander expectations for my life than just being someone's wife.

...besides, I think it is a good career move. I can't very well write multiple volumes of my sex life if I don't continue to play the field.

I Want Your Horror

Nina says...

Despite quite desperate attempts to detest her... I seem to have caught a bit of Ga Ga fever. How disgusting.

Sparky says...

Oh what a lovely Saturday night it was.

I took shots of Jameson with one of my boys over facebook. ...over... FACEBOOK!

Parts of the night are missing.

I feel a wave of partying coming on. And I intend to ride it.

I'm A Rocket Man!

The Narrator says...

Sparky shifts her eyes from her dinner plate to the thirty guests that sit before her. Her audience. A quiet part of her has always prepared for this moment. It silently took notes over the years, hanging on moments that would be important later. Moments that are important tonight. She's ready to change a life or two.

She then looks to her right, at her father, the birthday boy. Her purpose.

Quickly, she decides not to look at him until she needs to.

Sparky says...

Holy fuckin' showtime! (...I hope this Susie Sunshine shit works.)

Watch my glitter fly, bitches. Prepare to get misty eyed.

Ahem!

"I am very proud to be here tonight. And to have the chance to tell you, and him, that my dad has always been my greatest teacher. Whether the lesson is big or small, I always listen carefully to what he has to say. In the end, he is usually right. He’s stubborn too. He won’t give up on me until I get it. I remember when I was younger he was helping me with my homework, I was learning fractions. Every time I got a problem right he jogged a lap around the living room. By the end of the night he was pretty tired, but I was a pro at fractions.

He’s taught me more than just fractions. He’s taught me that you should always be prepared for the worst case scenario. That having a sense of adventure will keep you young. And that the easiest way to bring meaning to life is to simply put someone else’s needs before your own. But I think the most important thing he will ever teach me is that it doesn’t matter where you’ve come from, who you once were, or what uncontrollable circumstance you may find yourself in. As long as you do the right things for the right reasons, and you always keep the faith, you can make something great of your life. You can be brilliant, as he is brilliant.

Here’s to you, Sir. Happy Birthday! It’s been a very well-earned sixty years."

Lacey says...

Cheers, daddy.

Detoxed

Lacey says...

Oh yes, that old familiar feeling. That scintillating sting. Pain.

I feel cozy again. Right as right can be...

I can dwell in this universe while I skip along to the beat of this broken body.

I think I will curl up with this carnage. This deterioration. This horrific reminder of how it will all end someday.

I feel home again. Back in that wide open space where my voice echoes. The place that few people visit because why would they? It's just me, myself, and I again in this dangerous land.

It feels oh so sadly meant to be.

Amanda says...

Drugs suck. Don't ever let any doctor tell you differently.

I'm completely off Baclofen. It feels amazingly awful. My mind is so much clearer. Even though the rest of me feels like shit. The detox has been rough. And I went into it almost completely blind. I had a really hard time finding information on what to expect. I realize now it's because most people who start using it never come off it again.

I had a migraine for a week straight, followed by constant back/shoulder/neck pain that I am still trying to deal with. Sitting still for a long period of time has become a challenge. Sleeping is almost impossible. Relaxation is a memory. I only seem to feel okay if I am moving. Therefore, my apartment looks lovely because what else is there to do at 2 in morning other than clean? I'm losing weight too. So detox isn't all bad.

For as long as I can remember people have asked me if I am in constant pain. My answer was no. I wonder if I couldn't feel it because I just didn't know any better. Ignorance is bliss.

It's No Serenade

Amanda says...

So I'm on Day 5 of my detoxification from Baclofen. In total it will take three weeks if everything goes according to plan. Today was the first morning I didn't wake up with a headache in a cold sweat, which was nice. But I am definitely feeling antsy. I have been cleaning everything!!! And thinking way too much.

My doctor was full of shit. She said it would be easy to come off this drug. I have only dropped one of three pills a day and I have felt like shit. I can't even imagine what I would be feeling if I had decided to quit cold turkey.

Nina says...

You know what, Sir Elton John, I'm so glad you are gay and therefore would most likely never write a song for me. Because I would be bitterly disappointed in you. This is by far one of the worst written songs ever. Why do people think it's so romantic?

Your Song

It's a little bit funny this feeling inside
I'm not one of those who can easily hide

(No shit, considering you sound like Captain Obvious.)
I don't have much money but boy if I did
I'd buy a big house where we both could live

(Shut the fuck up, I know your loaded.)

If I was a sculptor, but then again, no
Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show

(You're just a shitty artist. Period.)
I know it's not much but it's the best I can do
My gift is my song and this one's for you

(All I get is this shitty song? Seriously?)

And you can tell everybody this is your song

(Why the hell would I want to do that?)
It may be quite simple but now that it's done
I hope you don't mind

(I do mind, you narcissistic weirdo!)
I hope you don't mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you're in the world

I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss

(And this concerns me how exactly...?)
Well a few of the verses well they've got me quite cross

(Maybe it's because you are just no good at this.)
But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song

(Again, why do I care?)
It's for people like you that keep it turned on

(Bitch, I always change the channel when this song comes on.)

So excuse me forgetting but these things I do
You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue

(So you're actually admitting you forgot what color my eyes are? Moron!)
Anyway the thing is what I really mean

(And you don't even care!)
Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen

(Ha, nice try, but you didn't save yourself, man.)

My White Flag Has Turned Black

***WARNING!!! THIS ENTRY IS FAIRLY PERSONAL AND CONTAINS SOME SERIOUS TMI. IT HAS BEEN WRITTEN MAINLY FOR PERSONAL RECORD, AND ON THE OFF CHANCE THAT SOMEONE READING THIS HAS ANY INTEREST IN MY COMPLICATED HEALTH SITUATION. BE PREPARED TO LEARN A BIT TOO MUCH ABOUT ME IF YOU CONTINUE.***

Amanda says...

So I have been taking the muscle relaxer Baclofen to help manage my migraines. And it has been quite effective. My headaches have been less frequent and fairly predictable. Wonderful, right? I should have done more research.

First of all, Baclofen causes insomnia. Ha, well there is one mystery solved. It's also the reason for this moment of "medical eureka." I feel like I haven't really slept in a year now, and there is only so much entertainment one can get from Facebook and Myspace before they turn to random research.

It was my random research that brought me to the interesting fact that Baclofen increases blood sugar levels. Guess what that can lead to... yeast infections. I have spent the last three months caught up in one of the most frustrating medical dilemmas of my life, a mysterious yeast infection with some ridiculous gusto to it. I have been tested several times for STDs, pregnancy, and hormonal imbalances, all coming up negative. I have tried every treatment available, even the last resort of Boric Acid capsules, which are just as painful and humiliating as they sound. Still, my infection persists. I have been to several doctors, wherein which I have learned firsthand that as a disabled young woman it can be extremely difficult to be properly treated for such a common problem since the first doctor I saw refused to examine me (and look me in the eye, I might add) saying it wasn't necessary for a proper diagnosis. Not to mention what it has done to my mental health, I feel disgusting.

Now I learn (on my own) that a simple blood sugar test and change of medication may be the answer to all of it. What the hell are any of these doctors good for? It's not like I have kept my Baclofen use a secret.

However, the truth is, it may not be a matter of just a simple medication change. Turns out Baclofen can be somewhat difficult to get off of once you have been taking it for a prolonged period of time. A prolonged period of time being a few months. I have been taking it for almost a year. You have to be tapered off the drug slowly, otherwise you can suffer severe withdrawal, the main symptoms being hallucinations that can borderline mania and/or seizures. Also severe muscle rigidity, particularly in patients with spastic diplegia. Oh goody.

Some other interesting information I found on Baclofen include studies that suggest it is not right for people with a history of mental illness as it can increase confusion, depersonalization, and depression. Perhaps this could explain my recently developed anxiety problem.

I suddenly find myself in what may be a complicated medical situation. All because I didn't take the time to research a pill before I started popping it and because I put too much faith in doctors who just don't take enough personal interest in me. But can I blame them? It's not like I'm an easy patient.

Then there is also the migraine problem. If I stop the medication, my migraines will come back full force. I will be debilitated 3-5 times a month. How the hell am I suppose to work? It's not like a I can keep Francis on a schedule.

Some days my life just sucks.

It [Was]n't Me

"My nightly bloodlust [has] overflowed into my days. I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip."

-Patrick Bateman, American Psycho

Lacey says...

I am so fucking sick of keeping it together. I am reaching that point where mania will take over and I will have an "episode." It's been a painfully long while since I've lost my mind.

Things will stop making sense. I will become emotion-- rage! Lots of rage!!! I'm sick of things being broken. And since I can't fix them, I will simply break more. Why not?

Imagine my mind is a ledge, lined with beautiful, crystal wine glasses. From afar a mysterious sniper is shooting them one by one. Complete silence and then BOOM! Shards fly and a once perfect glass is obliterated. It is a slow way to destroy a mind. I can't stand it. So instead of waiting for the sadistic sniper to finish his job, I would rather destroy the glasses all at once. Throwing them to the ground till it shimmers with the pieces of my sanity. At least I will have made the mess myself. And the destruction will be finished.

I need to fuck or fight. Or both. Yes yes, both. With blood, bruises, and broken bodies.

I need a victim.

Preferably not me.

A Quiet Meltdown

Nina says...

And now I shall quote Dennis Lehane from the book Shutter Island. The elusive Rachel Solando is the most useful character in the whole story.

"If you are deemed insane, then all actions that would otherwise prove you are not do, in actuality, fall into the framework of an insane person's actions. Your sound protests constitute denial. Your valid fears are labeled paranoia. Your survival instincts are labeled defense mechanisms. It's a no-win situation. It's a death penalty really. Once you're here, you're not getting out..."

Oh and...

"...Now ask yourself, how does pain enter the body?"

"It depends on where you're hurt."

"No." She shook her head emphatically. "It has nothing to do with the flesh. The brain sends neural transmitters down through the nervous system. The brain controls pain," she said. "It controls fear. Sleep. Empathy. Hunger. Everything we associate with the heart or the soul or the nervous system is actually controlled by the brain. Everything."

"Okay..."

Her eyes shone in the firelight. "What if you could control it?"

I like this book.

Lacey says...

Everything feels wrong today!

I've somehow skipped a beat. Lost a few minutes while I slept and I have arrived here too early. Nothing sounds right. Or tastes right. Nothing feels right.

I am a molecule with one too many electrons. I am unstable. Yes yes, I like how that word rolls off my tongue... uuunnnnsssstttaaabbbllleee... Mmmmm... at least that tasted right.

Perhaps I've been shoved in a corner for a bit too long and cabin fever is finally settling in. Or perhaps I've been alerted somehow by an outside force that a war is coming and it's high-time I put up my dukes! FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!!! Or perhaps that one stubborn screw has finally come a bit too loose and the whole structure has begun to shake with the inevitability of a great collapse.

I need to fix this incongruency. I need synchronization!!! I need to find those minutes that got away from me and yank them back into place. I need to climb the missing seconds to get back on top of my game. I need to fit the square pegs into those tiny, round holes. I need to pound them into place until they are stuck stuck stuck!!!

I need to fit again.

Let's Compare Scars

Nina says...

There is this brief and delicate alternate universe wherein which I live happily ever after with my Housecat, this crazy man I happened to stumble upon. It's a strange universe that I really don't understand. But, as always, I will just hum along to the music till the image fades.

Swing Life Away by Rise Against

"Am I loud and clear or am I breaking up?

Am I still your charm or am I just bad luck?

Are we getting closer, are we just getting more lost?

I'll show you mine if you show me yours first

Let's compare scars I'll tell you whose is worse

Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words

We live on front porches and swing life away

We get by just fine here on minimum wage

If love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end

I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand

I've been here so long; think that its time to move

The winter's so cold summer's over too soon

so let's pack our bags and settle down where palm trees grow

I've got some friends, some that I hardly know

But we've had some times I wouldn't trade for the world

We chase these days down with talks of the places that we will go

We live on front porches and swing life away

We get by just fine here on minimum wage

If love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end

I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand, until you hold my hand

I'll show you mine if you show me yours first

Let's compare scars I'll tell you whose is worse

Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words

We live on front porches and swing life away

We get by just fine here on minimum wage

If love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end

I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand

swing life away

swing life away

swing life away

swing life away"

The Child is Gone

The Narrator says...

When the going gets tough, the tough get going. If you keep your mind and body preoccupied with meaningful things, the meaningless tribulations of our lives that we cannot control become just that. And vice versa.

Susie says...

I find myself in the zone lately. I'm on an upswing, and I'm still climbing. I'm focused.

I am good at my job when I want to be. I have phenomenal people skills and a ridiculous abundance of patience. I can be quite impressive, in my own way, when I want to be. It really comes down to doing good work and sucking up to the right people. Both of which come naturally to me when I'm motivated.

I am oh so motivated lately. It's not like I know where I'm going. I only know that anywhere is better than here. That is plenty motivation for me.

I think I could find meaning in my job someday. Perhaps if I became one of the people who overlooked ADA matters for the company. Help the handicapped take vacations and such. I think I would like that. And who is to say it's a far-fetched idea?

By staying busy with my job, I've stayed busy with my other projects as well. The extra room in the apartment is now painted a vibrant green (the color is called "center stage") and I am slowly collecting furniture and such for it. I bought a vintage, decorative end table that is almost exactly the same color of green at a second-hand shop. And to go on top of it... a beautiful, heavy, black typewriter. My prediction is it dates back to the 30's or 40's. I saw it and I knew it was mine.

The kitchen is finally finished too. I didn't think I would like having a tin back splash at first, but I do. It seems to fit.

The next project is the broken mirror.

Persy says...

You are such a slut. Go on... lick every rung of the corporate ladder with lust. Sell that soul of sunshine for sweet, sinful success. See if I sweat it.

We both know you cant board up the bitterness forever. There isn't a hole hollow enough to hide your horrors. They will always haunt you.

I like listening to the tick-tock of your clock anyways. The creep of your count-down comforts me. Soon enough you will be a shit show worth seeing. I promise.

Breakthrough

Running With Scissors | Movie Trailers

Amanda says...

What is it called when you have a question that never ends? A question that loops... What came first the chicken or the egg? That kind of annoying shit that inspired the song that never ends...

(Nina whispers... A conundrum.)

A conundrum! Yes, a conundrum! I fuckin hate those. I hate it even worse when I find ones in my life. Conundrums belong in philosophy books. Not in my life. Not in my head. And vice versa.

I hate myself when I am high these days. I don't hate myself because I'm high, I really don't feel remorse or shame about it. I feel like I hate myself when I'm high.

I'm not sure if it's because I lie to myself when I'm high, or because I tell myself the bitter, honest truth. I seriously don't know.

And here is the kicker of the whole thing, the real joke Jesus is playing on me... while I feel miserable mentally, I feel phenomenal physically. My constant little aches and pains fall silent for an hour or so. The pain hasn't gone away, though. It's morphed. The physical pain becomes mental.

It's as if my pain is separate from myself, so I cannot control or destroy it, but it dwells within me. The pain always exists, in one way or another. Almost as if it must. It's eternal, like a demon.

Maybe that is why the thought of possession scares the hell out of me. Because I really am possessed. Only not by something supernatural. I am possessed by a very worldly pain.

Do you suppose you can exercise something worldly from your body? How do you think one would do that?

Something radical is about to happen in my life! Monumental! I can feel it. Like the Tower card in the Tarot!!! Reward from catastrophe. A baptism by fire. Rebirth.

A Day

Sparky says...

I knew a man once, named Romeo. A beautiful name for a beautiful boy. A cocky man. If you had any question about how amazing he was, all you need do was ask him and he would tell you all about it.

He was a bouncer at the only bar I frequented back then. I will never forget the first time I met him. I scooted past him in the bar's the parking lot. He yelled out. "So what does it take to get a ride on that thing?"

"Buy me a drink," I said.

"That easy, huh? I wonder what it takes to get you into bed." He said it easily, staring right at me. No other man had ever been so daring, sure, and sincere with me. Not to mention such an asshole.

That was it. He had hooked me. It was delicious in the most pathetic way.

One night, we were sitting on my porch drinking some beers together. This was before we had slept together, mind you. (The game was far too fun to give in quickly.) He was a lot more drunk than I was, meaning he was more prone to going off on tangents. Suddenly, he started in on one about his father. His father was in a wheelchair and Romeo spent a good deal of time looking after him. I wish I could remember why he was in a wheelchair. A war wound, maybe?

"You know, I let my dad get away with so much shit. I seriously let him be as mean as he wants to me. And he is a son-of-a-bitch. But it's just the way things are. It's the right thing to do. There will be days when I look over at him and can tell something is wrong. But when I ask him what's bothering him, all I get from him is 'I'm just having a day.' That's it, he won't say anymore."

I sat there quietly waiting for him to get to the point, because I knew he would eventually. I was rather enjoying this tangent, anyways.

"So one day I asked him, 'Dad, what the hell does that mean?' And he looked at me, with the scariest smile on his face, and he said, 'You ever have one of those days where things go wrong. All things that can't be fixed no matter what. A day where Jesus just seems to hate you for no good reason. Well, those are called days.' " He said it with a little smirk on his face I can only imagine he got from his dad and he continued.

"So, I said to him, 'Dad, those are called bad days.' And he actually laughed at me and said, 'Not when you are me. When you are me, those are just called days.' "

He took another swig of his beer, all the while looking me in the eye. I didn't say anything. I didn't need to. We both knew it was something he had always wanted to talk about with someone, because it was important to him. Because he loved his father. But it was something that most people could never fully understand. I understood, though. It made more sense to me than anything else I had ever heard before.

Ladies and gentleman, I'm having a day. I had one yesterday and I will probably have one tomorrow too. They are starting to exhaust me.

Persy says...

Poor little princess.

You're such a pussy.

Either give in or get on with it. Go go go...

Don't act like you're not dreaming of your own destruction.

(...your delicate and delayed demise.)

The further and faster you run, the further and faster you fall.

Are you dizzy, darling?

Or do I need to run 'round raging some more.

Trial, tribulation, triumph... Trial, tribulation, triumph... Trial, tribulation, triumph...

Do it, already. We all know you will in end, anyways.

Franis Watch

Lacey says...

Oh you little son-of-a-bitch. You think you're so sneaky, don't you? ...but I'm getting better at this game, muthafucka!


Amanda says...

I think it's important to note that I am writing this while in bed. I would also like to note it took me 45 minutes to set up mobile blogger. My patience astounds me sometimes.

My back has been hurting for a few days and I had a slight neck ache when I got home tonight around 23:30. By 00:00 the ache got worse and the muscles in my forehead and right side of my head began to tense up. I also began to have intense muscle spasms in my legs, which is new. I haven't had spasms that bad since my surgery when I was 10.

Taken...

800 mg Ibuprofen
10 mg Baclofen
2 hits Marijuanna (Mcgiver piece)


Possible Causes (Aside from physical)...

Stress - 90% sure this is the number one cause. Family, work, car/scooter issues, health, book, goals, life...

Weirdo psychic link to Mom (had a mini seizure tonight)? We shall further explore this option when more sense can be made of it. For now, it could be the meds talking.

I continue to amuse myself with my prepatory measures. The doors are locked and all the lights are out, except the laundry room light shining through the door (it's bright enough so I can see should I need to get up, but not bright enough to make my head hurt). I've turned my heater up. I have all my rescue meds together should an actual migraine hit. A towl on the floor in front of the toilet should I start vomitting. And I've gotten into bed.

I'm doing well, I think.

Fidelity?

Nina says...

Why my dear friend, Regina, I had no idea how much I missed you. You say even the saddest things with a smile.

"I never loved nobody fully

Always one foot on the ground

And by protecting by heart truly

I got lost

In the sounds

I hear in my mind

All of these voices

I hear in my mind all of these words

I hear in my mind

All of this music

And it breaks my heart

It breaks my heart"

Just Breathe

Nina says...

Oh life's extremes... You can be free one moment, only to find yourself a slave the next.

But there is something masochistically healing in the sound of your shackles as you force yourself to go on. Survive the tough times, see what you're made of, kid.

But you have to make sure you have a steady war drum. Something you can march to, a rhythm you can sync your heart with.

... I always listen to what Johnny has to say. Why do I fear God? Because the man in black told me to.

SNOW!!!

Lacey says...

Susie, you're a cruel creature. If I can get downright obscene for a second, YOU ARE A COCK-GURGLING THUNDERCUNT! Go on, spread those legs widely and invite that horrendously fat dick that belongs to the enemy to pillage your so-called innocence. You are fucking The Man, admit it! You disgusting little whore. Sucker of Satan's cock!!!

How is he in bed, by the way? Is he giving it to you hard and rough, like the one in charge? Or does he leave you feeling unsatisfied, constantly awaiting the good time he promises in overly-eager kisses? Do you feel like the disappointed girl who lost herself in a night of passion, left to sleep alone, still naked, buried deep in the folds of her tainted sheets?

How does it feel to sell your soul? Is it all you ever wanted it to be?

Susie says...

Grow up. I'm too busy for this nonsense right now.

Communication

The Narrator says...

To titillate the imagination, I present to you a dream...


Upon an empty stage Sparky sits in front of a microphone. She stares out at the empty seats on the prowl for a set of mysterious eyes she knows she won't find, but still fears are there. With the coast clear, she takes the microphone off its stand and sits very still. She puts her head down with a sigh and closes her eyes. She's waiting, patiently. She's not sure what for yet, but it will come to her.

Like a ninja Nina sneaks up behind her and whispers in her ear, "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

Sparky opens her eyes slowly but doesn't turn around, seemingly undisturbed by Nina's surprise presence. "I don't know. I just don't know."

Now whispering in the other ear she says. "Don't think then. Just go."

That was it! Sparky knew it. Just like that a beat started up. And Sparky began to sway with it, the breaks of her scooter squeaking back and forth quietly. Then she began to bump with it. And from her mouth sprouted something unexpected... but perfect. She always knew there was a reason she harbored a disgusting crush for Marshal Mathers.

"There's no escaping
There's no place to hide
You scream, "Someone save me!"
But they don't pay no mind
Goodbye

You're walkin' down a horror corridor
It's almost 4 in the mornin' and your in a...
Nightmare it's horrible
Right there's the coroner
Waitin' for you to turn the corner so he can corner ya'
You're a goner, he's on to ya'
Out the corner of his cornea, he just saw you run
All you want is to rest cause you can't run anymore, you're done
All he wants is to kill you in front of an audience
While everybody is watching in the party, applauding it
Here I sit while I'm caught up in deep thought again
Contemplating my next plot again
Swallowing the Calotapin
While I'm nodding in and out on the ottoman
At the Ramada Inn holding onto the pill bottle then
Lick my finger and swirl it round the bottom
And make sure I got all of it
Wake up naked at McDonald's with blood all over me
Dead bodies behind the counter, shit
Guess I must've just blacked out again
Not again

It's 3 A.M. in the morning
Put my key in the door and
Bodies laying all over the floor and...
I don't remember how they got there
But I guess I must've killed em' (Killed em')

Sitting nude in my living room
It's almost noon
I wonder what's on the tube
Maybe they'll show some boobs
Surfing every channel until I find Hannah Montana
Then I reach for the aloe and lanolin
Bust all over the wall paneling
Dismantling every candle on top of the fire place mantle and...
Grab my flannel and my bandanna then...
Kiss the naked mannequin man again
You can see him standing in my front window, if you look in
I'm just a hooligan who's used to using hallucinogens
Causing illusions again
Brain contusions again
Cutting and bruising the skin
Razors, scissors, and pins
Jesus, When does it end?
Phases that I go through
Dazed and I'm so confused
Days that I don't know who
Gave these molecules to
Me, what am I gonna do
Hey, the prodigal son
The godfather for one
Very methodical when I slaughter them

It's 3 A.M. in the morning
Put my key in the door and
Bodies laying all over the floor and...
I don't remember how they got there
But I guess I must've killed em' (Killed em')

She puts the lotion in the bucket
It puts the lotion on the skin
Or else it gets the hose again

I cut and I slash slice and gash
Last night was a blast
I can't quite remember when I had that
Much fun off a half-pint of a Jack
My last vic and a half
A flashlight up Kim Kardashian's ass
I remember the first time I dismembered a family member
December, I think it was
I was having drinks with my cousin
I wrapped him in Christmas lights
Pushed him into the stinking tub
Cut him up into pieces and just when I went to drink his blood
I thought I oughta' drink his bathwater that oughta' be fun
That's when my days of serial murder manslaughter begun
The sight of blood excites me, that might be an artery son
Your blood curdling screams just don't seem to bother me none
It's 3 A.M. and here I come so you should probably run
A secret passageway around here, man, There's got to be one
Oh no there's probably none
He can scream all that he wants
Top of his lungs
But ain't no stopping me from chopping him up (up)

It's 3 A.M. in the morning
Put my key in the door and
Bodies laying all over the floor and...
I don't remember how they got there
But I guess I must've killed em' (Killed em')"

As the music begins to fade, Sparky smiles. She feels absolutely ridiculous. When the silence sets in, a solitary applause arises from the back row. She laughs without looking. She knows. A few moments later she raises her eyes to Persy's, staring her down. The clapping stops.

Sparky slowly stands up and puts the microphone back on its stand. She carefully leans forward on her scooter and takes her bow. As she turns to head off stage, she hears whispering again in her ear. It shocks her.

"You make the perfect little play thing, princess. A jubilant jester, indeed. My merry monkey. Dance, darling. DANCE!"

...The scene fades to black in a dramatic fashion! The end.