Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in uphevil's LiveJournal:

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Wednesday, January 17th, 2007
4:26 am	From the Eyes of a Guilty Conscience jan 16 2007 – 130ish p.m. from the eyes of my guilty conscience... The girl is so pretty today. I'm watching her, and she knows that, but doesn't seem to mind a great deal. At times I'm inside her, and she sighs a little, impatient for me to let her be. Her effort is astounding, I can't help but be perplexed. Where in hell does she find the strength? She relishes the solitude she's created for the afternoon. I can see that behind her eyes, even through the ocaasional stream of tears, which she doesn't seem to notice. She has produced a day of intense lonliness, and she's ecstatic with the result. I observe her shudders as she pushes all lucid thought out of her pretty little head. Pushes a smile behind her blank expression until it is clearly visible. And she must be buying into the facade she's painting on with dust-smelling colour, because there is nobody in the house to give a shit about how dead her ivory skin looks, save herself. I wanted to pick her up and get her moving, but for reasons unknown to me, it was more enthralling to watch her summon the stamina herself. She has dedicated this day to her own gorgeous misery, and she's done it for a reason. So I watch, like being immersed in the novel of a lifetime, twitching with anticipation to discover her motivations. It took her an hour, but she crawled out of bed, ignored the chill of the hardwood on her bare feet, and had a cigarette as she undressed for the shower. I thought I caught her scrutinizing her nakedness in the fogging mirror above the sink, but as I leaned in closer, I found it to be a simple smile on her face. Without me, she is such an intriguing creature. Her beauty is enough to overwhelm the most unfeeling being, lost in the depths of a hellish apathy. It practically drips off her fingertips as she tousles her own hair and steps into the stream of scalding water. A fleeting glimpse that she is, indeed, glad I am watching her. She is showing off for me. If I wasn't so terrified to disturb her goings-on, I would have laughed aloud. She stood in the water until it was sickly and cold. Shaved her legs and underarms with precision. Like she was off to the beach with Betty and Veronica. She jumped out of the shower, and bounced naked into the den, blasting the stereo and dancing about with a toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. Humming, and twirling, and squirming into her cutest and most revealing dress. She styled her hairover two americanos, Current Mood: accomplished (Comment on this)
Thursday, October 26th, 2006
11:01 pm	A Slice of Karma I got my paycheque today, completed my collection of shiny, stiff fifties in the condom box full of rent in my closet, and damn near forgot about the rest of it while I starved. I was online until ten-thirty, and kept reverting back to the cooking websites I frequent for romantic dinner ideas, because they have pretty pictures of food all over them. I mean, I was really hungry. Suddenly, while drooling on my tiramisu ingredient list, it dawned on me that I had enough cash in my pocket to gag an elephant. So I jumped up and rushed downstairs, planning to hit the in-lobby convenience store for Dr Pepper and taquitos (or whatever cheap knockoff the 'Just O-K Mart' carries. I thought I'd pick up a porn mag while I was at it, I probably couldn't look much lonlier, and didn't have a whole lot of pride to hold up in my socks and dirty pyjamas. As it were, the store was closed, and I was forced to plod outside and around the corner to the 'Hop In, Cracked Out' Pizza shop that only ever seems to be open late at night, when nobody with good intentions wanders the streets. I walked in and stood at the counter for a minute, trying to prioritize which to conceal, my socked feet or my protruding, frozen nipples. Some old guy came out of the kitchen with a cigarette in his mouth and a beer bottle sticking out of the pocket in his apron. He didn't speak a word of english, or any other language I can get around in, so our interactions were mostly composed of grunts and gestures that represented universal slang. He refused to sell me the last slice of beef and mushroom. I think he was either trying to tell me it was too old, or that it was laced with peyote. So I waited for a new one and drank three cans of apple juice while he smoked, ashing into the tip jar. It was filled to the brim with pennies, not even shiny ones. They spilled out onto the list of toppings and “Right To Refuse Service” sign. Several hopeful happy-faces had been added to the styrofoam cup at different times. One of them had been crossed out and replaced with a chipper “Fuck You, Pizza Dude!” and I wondered if that particular customer had left any pennies. I thought of my own tip jar at work, and suddenly got really depressed. If Pizza Dude one day chose not to stay up past nine making shitty pizza in the ghetto, all the crackheads and I would starve. I flipped a toonie into the cup, and a cloud of ashes flew out of it, getting in his eyes. He smiled, anyway, wiping at them with the stump where I assumed he once had a left thumb. For a moment I thought my two bucks had moved him to tears, which gave me the warm fuzzies, even after I realized I'd merely blinded him with his own ash. He gave a grunt that conveyed either gratitude or indigestion, and I wandered back home with my greasy pizza wrapped in tinfoil, and half a can of apple juice. As I ate it, I dreaded going back to work in the morning, and solemnly set my alarm for some ugly time before god wakes up. An there, on my partly-deflated air mattress – heater clanking and window rattling – I fell asleep knowing that my job is really no different than Pizza Dude's. Who says the impoverished can't afford to be karmic? Current Mood: awake (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Saturday, October 21st, 2006
11:55 pm	I Was Brave I remember being at the children’s hospital, in the pre-op waiting room. I’d been there so many times before. The feeling in my stomach was familiar – anxious and anticipatory. I tried to think of the Archie Comics I would get to read during my time off school. I was having one operation or another; I can’t remember for the life of me what. And I can’t remember what colour my nail polish was. It was pretty, though. My mum had done my nails earlier that morning. With Love. One of those mother daughter things I was constantly starving for. She was so beautiful, my mum. Her perfect smile dazzling, and her clear cheeks rosy. Confidence beamed off of her. I wanted it, and felt guilty for my selfish jealousy of my own mother. It never seemed to matter how much I pulled at my hair with complicated brushes, or stared intently into the mirror, widening my eyes and curling individual eyelashes with my dirty thumbnails. I was always homely, and greasy in that typical childish way. My knees stunk of dirt even after rigorous scrubbing, and my knuckles always had a scrape or two. My underpants looked nothing like mum’s, which were always shinier and sometimes had lace that would have made me itch. My eyes seemed pale in the pictures, posing next to hers, which had a certain gravity to them that I couldn’t match. They took off my nail polish. The acetone was waiting for me right next to the thermometer in pre-op. I was brave. The nurse (who was young, but seemed infinitely older than me back then) kept apologizing as she wiped each finger with the ugly cotton ball. It was the cheap kind that my mother never bought. She said it would make it hard for them to monitor my oxygen levels. I guess because dying little girls lose that pinkish sheen to their cuticles as they slip away. I said I didn’t mind. That my mum was into manicures but I didn’t really care for makeup of any sort. But I had to fight back tears as I glanced up at mum with a weak smile, trying to convey a look of apology and despair. I don’t know if she ever saw it. Current Mood: thoughtful (Comment on this)
Tuesday, October 10th, 2006
2:27 pm	the poor dear thinks he's dreamed me up... Tuesday, October 10th 2006 1:52PM That was the longest bath I've ever taken, I'm convinced. Called in sick today. There was no way I was going to work, I must have hit the snooze button 34 times. (if my adding of nine-minute increments is correct). This might be the first time I've had to myself in weeks. I hate that I have to spend it in this house, where I don't live, and where my head is constantly in the throes of a crisis. I liked that bath, though. I wish someone had liked it with me. Someone I haven't seen naked this week. Because those two are driving me mad. It's enough to make a girl remove her bits with an exacto blade. (ew, that was grosser than i thought it would be) Adam remarked last night that we have this freaky attraction/repulsion thing going on. First I got pissed because i thought he was calling me repulsive, but he put it like this. Sometimes we seem to be perpetually touching, i can't keep my hands off your hair, and you hug me every time you walk by. Other times, you fall off the bed when I try to approach you. I guess we are two like poles, who can't stick together no matter what either of us wants. I don't think he gave much thought to the part where he approaches me and I run. He's such a smart guy, and it makes me wonder if I'm being unfair by thinking he's a total dunce for not taking my dozens of daily hints. But then I remember about ten times yesterday I completely changed my mind between conceding to let him love me, and wanting him to have an accident. He thinks it's because he's total milk and cookies between the sheets. I can't say he's not right. That sounds like a dumbassed reason for my disdain with him – but i can't think of a better one, so I would feel hypocritical protesting it. Current Mood: pessimistic (Comment on this)
Monday, October 9th, 2006
3:29 pm	oh god... Monday, October 9th 2006 ----- 3:04PM Saturday night I went to see Jeremy. His life has really fallen to shit since I left him. He is about to lose his job, his apartment, and has already lost all his close friends to his misery. It didn't really hurt me to see that, but it didn't delight me either. Which I thought somehow it would. I was actually pretty indifferent to it, sniffing around his house with an air of pretend disdain. I don't think he bought it. He did indeed have all my notes, and had read them all. I was also surprised by how little humiliation I felt that he was now well aware of so many things I had just not mentioned. I brought him a rose, in hopes that he would be less rigid than I expected, but I don't think the rose made a difference, he was quite ready to embrace me from the moment I got off the bus. He decided at one point to explain to me why he can't hate me like he wants to. “You have left a consortium of angry people in my heart. They're sitting around a table playing cards, and when I walk up to them and say 'Hey guys, I thought you were with her...', They sneer at me and brush me off. They keep playing cards, and nobody else is permitted to sit there, because they won't share their chips, and there is only one dim light above them. So it's not even like somebody else can move a table close to them and pretend to join in. Right where they have their table is where I feel a searing pain in my chest, and realizing that they don't have any intentions of leaving in the visible future, I gather scraps of paper that you wrote on. Packs of dusty matches, music I remember you liked, pictures you drew while we were high, tickets stubs from movies we went to and cruises we took. And I stuff them in my jacket. And when they look up and demand to know what I think I'm doing, I fight back for these pieces of you, and tell them to mind their own fucking business.” I cried at that, but I don't think it's because it saddens me. I think it was just so god damned funny that if I didn't cry, I would laugh, and that made me nervous. Because I didn't know how he would react. And I remembered his roaring laughter when I punched him that night in Lakeview. And I couldn't muster up enough hatred for him to reciprocate that cruelty, not at that exact moment. I went home, late, and Adam was losing his grip. I found him balled up on the couch, watching cartoons. He got up and listlessly asked how it went, and if I was okay. He asked if I minded him lying on the couch while I read over my old journals. He said he just wanted to savor the moments he had left in my presence. That made me feel sick, or like shaking him. I wasn't partial to either. But I let him lie on the couch and watch me. It is, after all, his couch. He spent the next hour shuffling from his spot on the floor at the foot of the bed to the couch, not seeming to be comfortable in either place. I demanded to know what he was being so pissy about, pushed him to just admit he was angry, or hurt, or both. When I finally went to bed, he was in the fetal position on the floor, shuddering into a sweater. I couldn't take it. I told him to get his ass on the bed, and after some arm-twisting he conceded. To be perfectly honest, I don't remember the exact chain of events that led from that to his profession of undying love, but he must have called me beautiful a thousand times in between. He told me he loves me because I'm caring, and kind, and passionate. He said I'm living on a plane he likes, and he wants to go there, too. After laying that out in front of me, he completely let go, and I swear I've never seen a person heave so strongly with passionate sobs. I was afraid to say anything, or touch him, unclear as to whether he even knew I was still there next to him. So finally I let him win this 48 hour argument and made love to him. In the morning he was so happy compared to the night before that I was wary of him cracking, like a cold glass full of boiling water. I went back to see Jeremy in the evening. For the life of me I can't recall why. He offered me thanksgiving dinner, and when I called he sounded so forlorn and given up that I felt compelled to rush over, regardless of my lack of reasons to. Thanksgiving dinner turned out to be a shitty apple pie, mostly made by the downstairs tenants. They probably pitied him, or got tired of hearing him cry through the floorboards. I was starving, though, and ate a lot of it, picking the pieces of core from my teeth and sticking them to his dirty sheets. He read my journal, at least outwardly undaunted by my descriptions of more things I just 'hadn't mentioned'... amicable as shit. I confided more in him last night than I ever have, I think. He kept making these 'jokes' about how we should stay married since he'd already ruined my life. Or how we should grab a room for a week at the crack motel, and bang each other like mad jackrabbits, no questions asked. These 'jokes' were always followed by a tragic little chuckle ending with a hiccup as he stifled tears. All I could do was shake my head, barely empathetic, and feeling useless even though it was only I who could alleviate his despair. I slept with him, despite all my logic and reason, and gut feelings. I didn't do it to humour him, either. I did it without a single fucking thought as to why. It was over so quickly (as usual) that I didn't have time to panic until I was putting my clothes back on, remembering that I could have lived the rest of my life a happy girl without him seeing me naked. He walked me to the bus stop, chatting happily and giving me the general impression that he thought we'd be doing this again in a couple of weeks. And until I walked through Adam's door, I might have thought so, too. The feeling of having an affair with your own husband is indescribable. I found Adam on the couch again, watching cartoons, only this time when I came in the door, his face lit up and he sat up like a puppy in anticipation of a scratch behind the ears. By the time I went to the bathroom and came into the living room my head was throbbing with a migraine angrier than I was with myself. He jumped up to get me a blanket, warm milk and a cigarette, and proceeded to massage my shoulders and tell me how happy he was that I was home. He reeked of stockpiled affection, and it made me naseous. I let him carry me off to bed and rub my back for half an hour before I mumbled that he'd be better off hating me, half-asleep and in excruciating pain. He pressed me for clues as to what might have happened to make me say that, and I kept brushing him off until he choked up and frightfully asked if I was alright, if I was going to die. That broke me, and I said as calmly as I could that I had slept with Jeremy. For about 30 seconds, he was cold with me. “I see. Is that what you went over there to do in the first place?” But when I burst into tears he was instantly apologetic and continued to rub my back, assuring me that he was a little hurt, but couldn't imagine being angry with me. That I wasn't horrible. That it would all be okay, and he was still right there. My migraine escalated into a feverish nightmare as I tried to push him away for the next two hours, and the discussion was eventually halted by my delerium. I thought I heard a phone ringing, and then ten phones ringing, and then a hundred doorbells being pushed at once, and a dozen dogs barking incessantly. I thought I was going to fall into a hole, I could feel stale air rising out of it. I was terrified of falling into it, I didn't know how deep it was, and was under the distinct impression that there would likely be no air at the bottom, and I'd suffocate. Adam comforted me into the night, and listened to my rambling and held me tight while I writhed. I remember he told me he needed me, and didn't know why. I woke with a start today, convinced I was drowning. I think the first thing I said to him was that if I died, could he please not let me go to hell. It took me three hours to drag my sorry ass out of bed, and my forehead felt like it was made of pumice stone. I decided I was going to kill myself today, but somewhere along the way changed my mind, or just lost my ambition to take the time trying. I've put Adam through hell, and he still loves me, maybe even more. I want to hit him over the head with something, because he must be crazy not to run screaming. Current Mood: morose (Comment on this)
Saturday, October 7th, 2006
6:11 pm	*Lucky Little Girl* In 49 minutes I have to call Jer, I'm going over to his place tonight. To pick up my novel notes and shit, and for some other undefined reason in my head. Maybe I just need to prove to myself... prove what? Maybe I just need a removed and objuctive look at the man who is capable of reducing me to a desperate wretch, and of exhilerating me by letting me go; so many times over. Maybe some sick part of me wants to revel in the glory of what i've done to him. Taste how lost he is without my love. Maybe I want to assure myself that he is going to be aware forevr that he lost me, and in doing so killed all hope for his existence to satisfy him. - - - Huh. Looks like I'm still angry after all, doesn't it? Adam tells me I've failed miserably at being distant and ordinary. The way he's looking at me through tears today tells me he's in love with me. I have only succeeded in breaking his heart it seems. I guess that will always be my forte. Breaking hearts in good enough time that my own sustains little more than a bruise. For some reason I can't wait to see Jeremy. I don't love him anymore, far enough from it that I can barely remember if I ever did. But it's like I've stepped back far enough that it feels good now to know i'm on his mind. Not intensely good, just subtly comforting. I make such a deep, burning impression on everyone I meet. I'd kill to know what it is about me that intrigues everyone so much, it's close to being humiliating. I'm obviously doing something differently than most, which is not my intention. It makes it damn-near impossible to avoid crises when everyone gets so curious about what I'm thinking behind my darting and distracted gaze. It's cold, and getting dark. I've been chilled since I woke up, as if my skin is reflecting my heart's unseemly behaviour. If I play my cards just right, I might get to break two hearts tonight. (Lucky Little Girl...) Current Mood: listless (Comment on this)
Friday, October 6th, 2006
11:57 pm	content and not damaged you bastard Since I last Wrote - MONDAY... I worked my first day at Grounds For Reading. Instantly and closely befriended my boss, Randy. Fell in love with my job. After work I went to look at the room downtown, and had a beer and some congac with Jack. Left the deposit, and took the C Train home, where I collapsed, exhausted. Adam kept me awake being overly affectionate. TUESDAY... Worked early again, on 2 hours of sleep. Met Virginia, and really liked her. That night the Carbon monoxide alarm was going off when I got back at 5. I called Adam, and left after trying for 20 minutes to wake up the Scot in the basement. Later we all got stoned off our asses and panicked with unease as the alarm went off until the wee hours of the morning. Adam had dug up a baby salamander while working at the forming site, and brought him home for me in a coffee cup. I named him Sam. I was starving, as I hadn't eaten more than a stale cinnamon bun in 2 days, and I tried to make Mr. Noodles and breakfast sausage, but passed out in front of the stove and burnt them all. Adam kept me awake being worried. WEDNESDAY... I learned that Virgina has a serious heroin habit (similar to the one that killed her boyfriend 2 years ago) and a 12 year old son who she may have to surrender to child services shortly. She almost got fired, abd hasn't showed up since, but still has the after-hours key. Came home on the verge of insanity. Adam kept me awake pushing and pursuing. THURSDAY... Work was hellish, and I cried on all my smoke breaks. Randy bought me a dozen red roses and a pack of smokes. He also gave me a tupperware container for Sammy, who is adjusting pretty well, but won't eat. (He did curl up like a small, clammy kitten and sleep in my armpit for an hour while I watched TV.) Randy brought up the issue of my paranoia about sexual harassment in the workplace, and I gave him a brief but gory synopsis of my history. I was supposed to have my divorce hearing, and Adam called me about six times at work, and damn near followed me there, I had to pull out my emotional jaws of life just to make it there on time, and unescorted. Jeremy showed up cold and angry with Barry's cort, and the office was closed anyway. He acted like a total prick, and I nearly lost it with him. I met a really cute guy who offered me a quarter to play the cort while I waited for the doors to open (ha!), which I didn't accept, but let him jam on it anyway. I came home furious, and called my mother, methodically incredulous with how close we become the farther away I get. Adam kept me awake clinging and begging. TODAY... I was going nucking futs, though work was good. Adam showed up unexpectedly to pick me up from work, and I stood outside myself and watched as I transformed into a huge bitch and left him outside the door, taking a ride home with Randy anyway. At the time the extra five minutes without him seemed like a godsend. Back here, I stepped back from him until the edge was right under my heels, at which point he flat-out initiated the bomb being dropped, and I was as honest as I pleased - i.e. I am not sharing your bed anymore, you drive me insane, I don't want your attention, your involment, your caring your phone calls, your concern, your shit-all, I didn't want this to begin with, get fucked. He got understandably pissy, but passed out in a rage on the floor when I refused to swallow his catty jab at my psychiatric history (some crap about how typical it is for damaged girls to sabotage a good thing deliberately, out of fear). So I smoked up with the aussies, laughed with jeff and fell into a placebo album with ryan. I explained to the scot's girlfiend (Aimee) why adam was stomping around in the bathroom, over a smoke on the back porch, and she was empathetic, and I was vindicated. Jeff is short, squinty-eyed, and jumpy. He loves to smoke pot and has mild tourettes, from the look of it. The two make him a joy to be around on a Friday night. He says hello to hot girls in snowboarding magazines, yells condescendingly at his noodles while they cook, and is known tenderly for blurting random off-colour remarks like "I ain't a gynecologist, sugar" and "Daddy, would you like some sausage?". I was walking by the bathroom to get some milk, and he was trying on his new knit hat in the mirror, making faces and chuckling, all the while grunting and rambling to himself. He looked up at my innocently yet unashamed and laughed a light-hearted, contagious laughter. This alone appeased my frustrations a bit, and at the very least, made it not so akward when he burst into the bathroom Kramer-Style while I was mid-urination. Ryan is a wonderful listener, he takes a genuine interest, and never forgets to ask how my day was, or what I think of the new NOFX album he downloaded.He is fun, hilarious, perpetually happy, enthusiastic, respectful, and happily shares his pot with any takers. He is tall and slender, with stocky arms and curly hair. (And lord knows curly hair leaves me dreamily imagining him asleep next to me) He adores placebo as much as I do, even if for different reasons, and laughs all day. I ran into him at the bus stop a few days ago and he walked home with me, listening to me gush about my recent publications. He asked for an autographed copy of l'injecteur, and adorably commented that he would have to tell his buddies back down under that he knows a canadian writer now. Looking at him, I remember my raging sexual appetite, and forget all the complications I've become entwined in with Adam. Reverting back to adam's desperate conversation is comparatively painful. I will remember never to let anyone buy me a coffee again until they prove they can hold their alcohol. Could be tricky, but I'll make it my protocol from this day forward. I hope all my pains and efforts to make adam's eyes stop pleading with me from across the room are not obsolete when he wakes up sober tomorrow. Current Mood: aggravated (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Sunday, October 1st, 2006
6:59 pm	Mine is an idea i cherish... holy shit - i'm going insane here. i am repulsed by his affection all of a sudden. Am i such a vindictive shrew that I only needed him as a crutch while i reeled back into my proper slot after severing myself from jeremy, and the hell he entailed? Isn't that, after all, what i did with andrew in east york not even two months ago? (christ - seems like forever, and my liver may not even have recovered yet) No, not quite. But neither of them really "victimized" me, either... it was somewhere in between the two. I'll find some way to get him off of me; i have to. because he has leeched onto my heart and i'm losing qquarts of patience with it. Maybe it's just that i can see myself hurling into the trap at full velocity, and i'm practically shitting myself to get out of the vacuum... I set myself up, though.... stupid girl. I want to get back to that place i was on the highway to ottawa. It's amazing to know that my relapse (read - marrying the biggest prick i know) didn't kill it. It makes it easier to understand that happy eryn is real eryn. That i didn't have to feign it, or even put forth the slightest effort to attain it. It is my innate solitary nature that i gave up in fucking grade 7 for the longing of a boy... stupid girl. I'm mostly just terrified (right now) of losing it with him and shattering his tender, neurotic little heart. But for christ's sake, he's practically stepping on my heels. I have flat out told him he's allowing himslef to become far too smitten with me, but his justification just comes out as a warbling complaint, and it infuriates me. It's flattering, but more smothering than anything else. The guy makes me completely claustrophobic. I grit my teeth and tense up my shoulders, regulate my breathing and try to distance myself as much as possible... but it doesn't seem to sway him in the least. He's so far down the rabbit-hole of infatuation that even my cruelest rejections leave him undaunted. It makes me feel like such a cold-hearted cunt... that can't be healthy. ---- going nuts... the darkness and isolation of this house is unhinging me. I've spent the day doing jackshit in my PJs, but the effort to run from his hands and dodge his mouth has left me exhausted anyway. I'm being chased in circles around his house. I feel like screaming at him... why can't i? maybe because i know the psychosis is my own. Current Mood: cold (Comment on this)
Saturday, September 30th, 2006
11:42 pm	the smell of inscence Saturday, September 30th, 2006 11:30 am A terrifying lack of words has just struck me. I will spend today looking for them. I wish I could find something to pull out of my fingertips and weave into a beautiful quilt. I'm tempted to cut slits into all my cuticles and dig around with shards of glass until something strikes me. Sounds gory and delicious. He discovered my sexual weakness last night, running his tongue over my spine. I'd almost forgotten finding my inner vixen with mandy during that late night blizzard, when i was crying on her waterbed... she ran her fingers ever-so-lightly up and down my inner forearms, and kissed my spine with her sweet little parted mouth. It may have been the first time I was aroused in any company other than my own. It took me a long time to learn how to feel good without that touch. 4:19pm I feel so beautiful. I hope I look beautiful. I'm hungry for nicotine, for milk and lipstick, for head rushes...for being watched, for anger, for laughter... hungry for love and affection... hungry to be touched, hungry to not let anyone. I'm starving, feeding off myself. If I wanted to be in love, which I don't, it would be with someone just like me; just like now. The first day I spend alone in my own space, i really ought to spend naked, listening to “meds” by placebo. The pain of it is tantalizing, it really is. The ability to NOT hurt myself into onblivion at its touch is fucking orgasmic. ---Baby, did you forget to take your meds? I can go back home to my birth as a beautiful creature and taste the lithium. Smell the blood, feel the cold sweat, and hear the alarm clock going off for hours in the darkness of my room. I can see the tiny print on the ativan, I can remember the revulsion to water and diet dr. pepper. I can remember crying at my face in the mirror. I can see the faces of the fat-lady store saleswomen. I can feel myself lying on the kitchen floor crying into the fur of a sleeping German Shepherd. I can remember fantasizing furiously with my dry eyes clamped shut, feeling shameful and ugly getting undressed for a shower. The sting of hot water on my wrists, and the way it felt to know i would do it again just days later. The way it pissed me off to hear that i was pretty, or normal, or that they understood... because i was only a hideous shell of a dead child, and i knew they were lying to me. The taste of cigarettes that I could never be satiated by. The smell of sweat, guilt, and lonliness on my filthy down duvet as I threw it off of me, completely incapable of getting comfortable enough to sleep. Trapped in an akward, heavy body I resented with all my might. The gagging I learned to accept as a twice daily ritual. The sick feeling I got when my mother acted impressed at my talent for swallowing 12 pills at once – DO I GET A FUCKING STICKER? I forget all the time that I'm teh same person. I forget the pain a lot. I like it. I need it, or the shock of the life I'm accquiring these days is too much for me. I like remembering that I fucking deserve all this sad beauty I posess, and exactly why. Without the anger, and without the pain, my beauty starves, and wilts, and dissipates into god knows what... and I can't let that happen. Current Mood: apathetic (Comment on this)
Friday, September 29th, 2006
11:02 pm	star trek quotes will be my downfall i'm in love with catherine, and hurting to see my mother, hug her intensely. i'm hungry for solitude, and nervous around adam. i'm fascinated by his roomates, and yearning for a bed of my own. I'm bleeding out onto this paper, and lusting for my own hands. I want to spend tomorrow getting more accquainted with this prodigy i've sculpted out of my damaged self. I long to talk on the phone for hours, and get letters i could reread a thousand times. I'm not even terrified to hear from jeremy anymore. i'm almost anticipating being able to laugh out loud when i realize life is better without his cruel little doses of obligation. ----------- A snap went off inside my head, a cheesy cherry-bomb video effect from a 60s sci-fi movie, a sudden appearance of motivation left behind. I need an apartment. ---------- The purolater guy left a package here today, adam thought it was pot. When it was finally opened it revealed a set of keys (returned via war amps tag) belonging to the previous owner of the house, who died of a heart attack last month. Jeff (one of the aussies) was so boyish opening them, squeezing the bubblewrap and peeking into a hole in the bag... "A keychain... in't that gay?" and trying the keys on the back door, examining the keytag number with intense scrutiny. It was somehow (in MY head, anyway) a touching tribute to the dead dude who lost his keys somewhere along his daily business. I wondered if losing them was that "last straw" that caused his heart to crap out on him. I wondered if he (wherever he is now) was as delighted with jeff's youthful attack on the package as I was. Maybe, if christmas morning had been good to him as a child. If it was me who was dead, and my keys in the mail, i would have been proud. maybe given a vindicated giggle from limbo. Current Mood: complacent (Comment on this)
5:16 pm	crazy crazy Friday, september 29th 2006 11:15 am Why am I such a malcontented wretch? not even – i'm very content... I'm so content being restless... I'd say it drives me insane... but that's the irony of it – it doesn't. I love my life so much, like i never did before. and it's bizzare how the parts of it that are the most chaotic feel the most exhilerating for me. Good Christ, am I becoming selfish? 11:30ish Why doesn't that even bother me, come to think of it? The only thing that concerns me is that nothing seems to. * sigh * -6:30 pm (thereabouts ) Jesus whipped i'd do anything to capture this. I see beauty, and it's ME for god's sake. I think I understand what the 'epiphany' i've been waiting for so quietly IS. I wish I could photograph this part of my existence with my pen... cinemagraph it with my words. I can see it, i know somehow that i'm heading for heaven. I'm remorseless... exhilerated... infatuated... alive! It's exciting! Is this what I found (and lost) in july when i left montreal? I swear on my own grave I will hold onto it. I will capture it, cage it, feed and water, I will mother it. I'm in love with the smell of this evening. I was sitting here stoned off my ass eating deep fried chinese dumplings out of adam's wok, and watching one of the aussies talk. His movement, combined with my intoxication, my memory, and the placebo on the stereo, made me float through my cloudy thoughts and into an image of me, with my laptop, sandalwood inscence, and lavender note cards tacked to the wall. Dirty sheets and hash, headphones, and sunlight, and i'm wearing a negligee and a work shirt, fishnets and heels, and i'm getting myself off all afternoon, filling up pages. loving, hating, living, dying, heart-wrenchingly gorgeous, completely alone. I almost came right there in the kitchen chair on wheels. I finished myself off in the bathroom, closing my eyes and seeing me in the late-morning light, running in a sundress, barefoot, laughing provocatively over my shoulder, with soft, powder blue wings. i came so violently i couldn't breathe for 20 minutes. and i had to write it down. i love the idea of living alone so much i had a spontaneous orgasm. if that's not an epiphany, then what the fuck is? Current Mood: accomplished (Comment on this)
Monday, September 25th, 2006
2:57 am	crappity crap crap So all... I haven't written in forever, i'm in calgary now... working hard and dicking around in equal quantaties, i suppose... shouldn't that be how it is for every girl? i'm abnormally happy tonight. could have been the keiths i had with dinner. miss everyone... one of these days i'll get around to posting an actual explanation for my disappearance. Eryn PS Those of you in TO should give a crap about this - my most recent publication is out this month... Toronto Public Library and the Evergreen put out a spot for me (thankyou katherine!) so check that out if you care... my piece is the one about the disturbing things in my pocket when i was fifteen. Current Mood: chipper (Comment on this)
Saturday, September 23rd, 2006
9:32 pm	hmmm September 23rd 2006 What have you done, child? I think I've lost my grip on time again... It strikes me this might be a permanent side effect of all the drugs I've taken in the past. God only knows what I've done to myself. Not that I regret much of anything. I'm trying to remember what day I got to this city on. I know what I was doing on the fourth of August, beyond that I don't know much. I was convinced I had been working for Lila for three weeks, I just noticed yesterday that I was only finishing my second week there. *sigh* I'm not unhappy. About ten times a day though, I find myself ambiently wondering if I even exist at all. Not that I'm being ignored... far from it. I feel more NOTICED than I ever have, I think. I have this unusual grip on everyone I meet. I can casually return someone's call a week late only to find that they were waiting, losing sleep wondering what I was up to. For reasons unknown to me, I find that fact more flattering than creepy. Maybe because I still remember a time when I would have killed to have more than a handful of people even know my name. I don't even mind the odd person being furious with me. Not that I like it, I'm just sort of indifferent. Not even six months ago I would have been contemplating a gory suicide if I'd recieved as many deliberately hateful words and gestures as I have this week. I couldn't give two craps, as it is. I have been laughing a fair bit more than usual, and I can't even believe how gracefully I have been recieving compliments recently. Completely unlike me... Jesus whipped, writing is so difficult tonight... Jeremy has all my writing from the past two years at least. It's like without it I don't even know how to produce more. That novel was going to be damn good, you know. I don't mind losing all my notes, though, because I think it became much too focused on that pigeon-bitch. It was a sickly cross between a bad Harlequin Romance novel and various rewrites of Broken Girl. (which – don't get me wrong – I adored, but it's the kind of story that can only be told once i think.) I was humiliated at my old place in Lakeview. Not much of anything MINE was left there. I guess he took everything with any sort of monetary value to it, my camera, the alarm clock, Barry's Cort, and so on. As for all my photographs and writing notes, that was too terrible to brush off, and I burst into tears. I could practically SMELL it in his parting words that he has no leftover feelings for me that are incredibly selfless, and he didn't keep the writing because of any literary taste or intellectual hunger he had. The guy would be happy as shit reading nothing but PEANUTS comics for the rest of his life, I'm convinced. At first I thought that taking the Cort was spiteful as well, but I guess the guy is pretty hard up for cash, and probably needed some extra alcohol money to make himself feel angry for a sufficient amount of time. Hope I Helped. Current Mood: cheerful (Comment on this)
Tuesday, April 25th, 2006
2:47 pm	blahbityblahblahblah allo... life can be so sad, or sometimes so uneventful... it makes me cringe. i think imight be losing my mind... you think so... i have no question mark key on this dang frenchie keyboard, so three dots (...) could either mean a pause for thought or a question being posed... you will never know the difference will you... ah well... i think this is dumb, because nobody has ever even read this thing... Current Mood: cynical (Comment on this)
Sunday, April 2nd, 2006
10:25 am	proud new puppy mom wow, my puppy is a sweetie, little reese's pieces. last night was his fourth night with me, and the first night he actually slept instead of crying, yelping, chewing, pissing, etc. my little baby is growing up. he injured himself this morning, poor little bugger, his toe is all swollen, and he's feeling pretty sorry for himself. i mushed up a chunk of low-dose tylenol in his food, and he passed out. i'm sure he'll be fine. (maybe he's learned not to chew shoes while they're on people's feet, lol) Current Mood: chipper (Comment on this)
Thursday, March 2nd, 2006
1:31 pm	cat fight with myself like i mentioned yesterday, about the blender, except today i think it's one of those hand-held milkshake mixers... like mo had at her house. ahhh... mo, do you remember when yer dad made swedish meatball subs and i just had bread and mayonaise? that was the night he spilled the beans about what you looked like when you were born... that's okay, i was so fat they couldn't tell if i was a boy or a girl... don't feel bad. wow... i miss everyone so much. what a sucky feeling. i know! i'll have a beeg pahtay, and invite everybody i've ever met... well, with the exception of a couple of people who i hate. i'll put a list of people up on telephone poles who are NOT invited to my party. everyone else, feel free! haha. i wonder where the telephone pole that the most things have been stapled to is. my new career options: (i have given these major thought based on my skills and interests) Professional Zamboni Driver Mortician Mattress Tester Extraordinaire Please let me know which you think would best suit me... Current Mood: bouncy (Comment on this)
Wednesday, March 1st, 2006
3:58 pm	boo wind sucky cold outside. last night was brandy night, waiting for summer. Every 12 hours or so somebody seems to be sticking an electric mixer in my brain. everything gets sickening and mixed up... i keep changing my needs and wants around like i'm a card trick. am i crazy??? Current Mood: crazy (Comment on this)
Wednesday, February 22nd, 2006
1:47 pm	woah woah man it's been a bit now, hasn't it? man i'm running on empty these days, little sleep, lotsa stress... ack. i think i have been infested with bedbugs, a big itchy thankyou to everyone who left their crap in my apartment. i freaking hate you. (well, i won't STAY mad, but jeebus, keep yer parasites to yourself!) not much else is up, i guess it doesn't really matter, because i'm starting to wonder if anyone has ever even been to this page who's not me. Current Mood: annoyed (Comment on this)
Monday, February 6th, 2006
11:32 pm	eek well, as glad as i am they have decided to clean up our building, the police once again held me inside, and are now holding me out. i kinda wish i could go back, i'm not sure what's going on with my boyfriend. he didn't do anything wrong, but it's hard to explain to cops that you live in a crackshack that makes the weekly news, and you're totally clean and legit. ON THE BRIGHT SIDE - Found a new apartment today *crossing my fingers, toes, etc.* it's beautiful. if we are accepted, we will move march first. woot! not much else to say, i really just kinda want coffee, everything else is fine. eve p.s. man, i just realized my kd surprise will be cold when i get back. i hope my rat's okay. wish i'd snuck her over here in my pocket. Current Mood: crappy (Comment on this)
Sunday, February 5th, 2006
12:09 am	liberating geneva I liberated a lab-rat today. found her in the lobby, shivering in a tiny cage, well, tiny for the size of her. she's white with malevolant little red eyeballs, which she keeps open while sleeping. she had a mannequin's left hand in her cage with her. weird. named her Geneva Craig, Jenny for short, cuz she's big 'n' fat. gave her some donut and a hotdog bun soaked in milk, she's happy as shit now. i don't know how old she is, but she's really tame, and gives little kisses already, and i've only had her for two hours. that should keep me busy for a bit, i spose. eve Current Mood: amused (Comment on this)