I WANTTO LEAVE ;A;

COME TO MY HOUSE

I WANT TO BUT NOT WITHOUT MY LAPTOP

JUST
CHAIN IT AWAY

UH WHAT

I MEAN
GET IT AWAY OR SOMETHING
OFF THE CHAIN

I CANT

USE A SAW

I DO NOT HAVE A SAW

YOUR DAD DOES
I SAW IT
HA HA HA haHA

WHAT

I SAW HIS SAW
SAW

AAAAAAAAA

-I really like you name
its good alliteration
Caitlin Cassidy
like you should be Nancy Drew's sidekick or something

-you know, i'd never thought of my name like that
what a great thing to aspire to

-heh
absolutely
but no it flows off the tongue

-however isnt her sidekick already the little mexican kid?

-i dunno
dont care
you'd make a better one

-Lucky fucking cats

-they dont know how well they have it
with their fur
and their eyes

-Nine lives Kate

-that too
but mostly their fur and eyes

-Tails

-legs
back

-We already have those...

-true
but do we really?

-Well we definitely have better backs than my grandmas cat

-but are they actual backs?

-Or just spare fronts?

-does anybody know?

-No one can ever know

-why is life such a mystery

-YOU ARE MY MOTHER'S SISTER'S CHILD

-AM I IN REAL LIFE

-yes.

-THAT IS CRRRAAZZYZYZYYZYZY
HOW DID THAT HAPPEN

-i don't want to get into the specifics, discussing consummation makes me mildly uncomfortable

-WAIT, WE'RE PREGNANT WITH EACH OTHER?

-don't you remember that hot steamy night in Timbuktu?

-ONLY FROM A NOVEL I ONCE READ
ABSENT OF SEX

-I used my psychic powers to impregnate you

-I DONT THINK THATS SCIENTIFICALLY POSSIBLE

Just found an essays worth of Facebook status.

Jordan Santos
Why do I love Green Day? Okay. I'll tell you why.
Before I found them, I was majorly depressed. I was in a place I didn't want to be in, I was over 125kgs, i had no friends, everybody hated me, and I was headed down the path of suicide. I was looking to put some new music on my iPod to listen to while I was going to do it, until I came across Green Day's album "American Idiot". I listened to it, and I felt for the first time in a long time that somebody actually understood. The song "Jesus Of Suburbia" was the song that got me through it all. I felt that I had so much more to live for. It's been about a year now since I started listening to them, and my life has changed dramatically. I now weigh about 85kg, and a quarter of that is muscle, I'm not severely depressed anymore, I live with my father in relative peace, and life is so, SO different for me now. Green Day is the reason I took up playing guitar, they are the reason I started writing my own songs, and they are the reason I am alive and healthy today.

well this is just ridiculous. I mean for one thing, nobody even asked this guy why he loves Green Day in the first place.

woo clerks

Oh, fuck you! Fuck you, pal! There you go, tryin' to pass the buck; I'm the source of all your misery. Who closed the store to play hockey? Who closed the store to go to a wake? Who tried to get back together with his ex-girlfriend without even discussing how he felt with his present one?! You wanna blame somebody? Blame yourself! "I'm not even supposed to be here today." You sound like an asshole! Jesus, nobody twisted your arm to be here. You're here of your own volition. You like to think the weight of the world rests on your shoulders. Like this place would fall apart if Dante wasn't here. Jesus, you overcompensate for having what's basically a monkey's job. You push fucking buttons. Anybody can just waltz in here and do our jobs. You're so obsessed with making it seem so much more epic, so much more important than it really is. Christ, you work in a convenience store, Dante — and badly, I might add. I work in a shitty video store — badly as well. You know, that guy Jay's got it right, man. He has no delusions about what he does. Us, we like to make ourselves seem so much more important than the people that come in here to buy a paper, or, God forbid, cigarettes. We look down on them as if we're so advanced. Well, if we're so fucking advanced, what are we doing working here? - Randal

Heard about the guy who fell off a skyscraper? On his way down past each floor, he kept saying to reassure himself: So far so good... so far so good... so far so good. How you fall doesn't matter. It's how you land. - La Haine

“There's good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too fucking sad.”

“There was an intelligence about him (Joe Strummer) that allowed his band to change and evolve, just as Johnny Rotten and the Sex Pistols were disappearing up their own bondage trousers. And there was a generosity about Strummer, too, a warmth and humanity about the guy. He was a brilliant musician, a beautiful man, and a charismatic artist.The Clash were not about milking if for a lifetime...I thought they were the greatest band I had ever seen. And, half a lifetime on, in a large part of my soul, I still do...They changed lives. They certainly changed mine. Because they made me believe that, with passion and commitment and a bit of fire in your belly, you could be exactly the person you wanted to be.” - Tony Parsons

I've been bound to the memories of yesterday's clouds.

Well I'm beginning to see the light. Some people work very hard, but still they never get it right. Well I'm beginning to see the light. There are problems in these times, but none of them are mine. Baby, I'm beginning to see the light.
Here we go again,
I thought that you were my friend.
Here we go again,
I thought that you were my friend.









How does it feel to be loved? How does it feel to be loved?

"I will be with you when you lose your breath"

things my mother hates:
'people i love dying / rats / being an unhappy family / deadlines / injustice / ageing'

Some pictures of a squirrel I saw that was awesome:




things that make me happy/want to cry:

grandfathers walking through parks -
leaves falling from trees -
songs like
here comes the sun -
children who
smile as
wide
as possible
-
laughing on bikes - lying on bright towels - humming on silent trains - kicking stones -
when water ripples -
the word ;
'echo'
-

she remembers building huts on her parents farm in the place where she only now knows she felt safest she used to swim in the river with her friends and convince people you were walking on sheep bones and by the time the other children realised it was just sticks there was no longer any significance in the car with her mother she listened to jazz records and grew up liking them in secret but now alone in the safety of her room she listens to 'bright side of the road' and remembers kicked up dust covering the tyres and bumping along tracks worn with occasional use and her mothers raspy voice like sand paper she thinks back to the days of sitting in a classroom looking outside at the clouds that seemed to be spinning and learning french verbs based entirely on the dreams of one day going there from her peeling wooden desk in the middle of an ocean her fantasies seemed as far away as the places in which they existed je vois tu vois il voit nous voyons vous voyez ils voient but her mother told her while hanging billowing washing on rusting lines 'believe in yourself, because theres nothing else to believe in' so she looked at the clouds and imagined the world she had not yet seen and now that she had she missed the days of shelter and grass and heat and afternoons her father used to strike huge dusty books onto the dining room table about faraway lands with exotic words speaking of people they had never before seen and she pored over them with him in their cramped spaces that seemed to extend across the entire universe and now that she'd discovered it all with a pounding heart he had filled with hope she discovered that she had loved them most in their faded dining room, closer to pure happiness than she had ever again managed to salvage.

Dear Sir, I have a complaint. Can't remember what it is.

He sat on the train eating peaches.
Tie loose and crumpled, he rubbed his hands together after he finished each one.
Rip peach in half, bite down on flesh, gently remove stone, bite down on flesh, 'patterns' I think 'we live by them.'
His skin was dark and olive, his arms thin and delicate;
'i used to be a gymnast.'
My mother talked to him about home, he said; 'I'll go back to see my parents die.'
I watched his eyes as he spoke,
small and dark brown,
he squinted
when he tried to think of something.
My mother laughed like shattering glass,
'whats money got to do with it?'
He looked at her through thick framed glasses,
'i fear you're right.'
Conversation trickled into choppy silences, burst back again quickly, slowly,
I thought;
'talking to people is like a dance.'
- - -
We reached our stop and got up, hasty and fumbling 'nice to meet you, what are the odds!' my mum called in a
rushed breath,
the man smiled his smile, then said it in a whisper while looking at an invisible speck somewhere beyond the window;

'it's funny, isn't it.'

The memories come in wisps. They blow through the wind and creep up on me when I least expect it. I sit outside and feel the wind rush across the street, then a few words of a forgotten song plays and drapes me in thick nostalgia. I remember on Tuesdays I would sit on a piano stool in a quiet room, a place where outside sounds arrived in faint gasps, and brush keys with my fingers. And when I took away my hand the piano left traces of dust where my press had lingered. On those days, there was nothing to do but let yourself drift. I didn't think to play the piano, I don't think I had ever learnt how. But I rested on the keys and brushed away slivers of dust so it didn't feel as lonely. I learnt the signifigance of appearance. Sometimes I sat with a friend I have long since forgotten and listened to her play shaky chords of sad songs that she sung in a whisper, and the beauty of it made the room feel like it was sinking into the sea, to a place so small and deep underground you lost the concept of 'outside.' There was just here, and us, and the slow trickle of notes. I've forgotten so much of my life, so many thoughts, so many feelings, so many faraway dreams, but every time I hear the flutter of a piano I think of Tuesday afternoons and diving deep, deep under, into a darkness so complete you could, for a fleeting second,

see.

When you were young You were the king of carrot flowers And how you built a tower tumbling through the trees In holy rattlesnakes that fell all around your feet And your mom would stick a fork right into daddy's shoulder And dad would throw the garbage all across the floor As we would lay and learn what each other's bodies were for And this is the room One afternoon I knew I could love you And from above you how I sank into your soul Into that secret place where no one dares to go And your mom would drink until she was no longer speaking And dad would dream of all the different ways to die Each one a little more than he could dare to try

The two most purchased items in supermarkets are cigarettes and coke.
This is a metaphorical reflection of the current society in which we live.


I would have thought;
toilet paper and milk. Something like toilet paper and milk. At least toilet paper though. I mean, do people really smoke more than they take a shit?
Weird.

Quite depressing, too. Like, no wonder people die young. Do people die young? No wonder theres disease, then. Or suicide. Or even just obesity really.

~

The paramedics took Cecilia to Bon Secours Hospital on Kercheval and Maumee. In the Emergency room Cecilia watched the attempt to save her life with an eerie detachment. Her yellow eyes didn't blink, nor did she flinch when they stuck a needle in her arm. Dr. Armonson stitched up her wrist wounds. Within five minutes of the transfusion he declared her out of danger. Chucking her under her chin, he said "What are you doing here, honey? You're not even old enough to know how bad life gets."
And it was then Cecilia gave orally what was to be her only form of a suicide note, and a useless one at that, because she was going to live:
"Obviously, Doctor," she said, "you've never been a thirteen-year-old girl."

switch on summer from a slot machine

woo there is tomato sauce all over my hand and i have no idea how it got here and my mum is drunk and phoebe is drunk and they keep coming in like yep lets all have a big old party in caitlins room why not bring your friends. And I dunno. Last night was nice when I was looking through spencers amazing cd collection and records and wow there were like hundreds and it was beautiful and there was more david bowie than i have seen anywhere and i found people that liked lou reed and that was good to be like ~bonding with strangers over music omg~ oop very difficult to type when mum keeps coming in !!!11! and friday night was beautiful, and i have always wanted to get high in warrandyte, and at that brief moment when i was intoxicated and on drugs and cigarettes and various things it was just perfect, and ~nothing mattered anymore~ and i was happy and so calm and moral of the story sanity sucks !!!! but yep. now its just later than i remembered it being, and there is still tomato sauce on my hand, and i'm overtired, and a little worried, and mostly just feel kind of sick.