Tonight,
I walked through the darkness to meet Cara in a local park. Blah, blah, blah - we smoked cigarettes and talked. On the way home, I walked through the darkness - darker darkness. I met a strange stranger who I will refer to as Dustin - in honour of a fellow I know who he reminded me of.
Dustin: What's up?
Kaitlin: Nothing? What's up?
Dustin: Do you have any money?
Kaitlin: Are you "mugging" me?
Dustin: I'm not "mugging" you. I'm asking you if you have any money.
Kaitlin: In a park, in the dark. Haha, that rhymed.
Dustin: You're strange.
Kaitlin: You're a mugger.
Dustin: No, I'm not. So, do you have any money?
Kaitlin: I have seventeen cents. - The truth- .
Dustin: Do you have anything else?
Kaitlin: I have a cigarette, a red Bic lighter, and some stupid shit. - I had three cigarettes, four Bic lighters, and some stupid shit - .
Dustin: What kind of shit?
Kaitlin: Razor blades and toilet paper. - The honest to God truth - .
Dustin: Why do you have razor blades? - The toilet paper wasn't questionable? I had toilet paper in case I needed to pee - .
Kaitlin: To cut myself.
Dustin: You shouldn't cut yourself.
Kaitlin: You shouldn't mug people.
Dustin: Whatever. I'll take the seventeen cents. And the cigarette and lighter.
Kaitlin: It's in pennies. The cigarette is a Studio and the lighter is half empty. - Which is also half full, I suppose - .
Dustin: I'll take it.
Kaitlin: Okay.
Dustin: Thanks.
Kaitlin: Oh no, thank you.
Dustin: Okay, bye.
Kaitlin: Goodbye.
Then he returned to the park from whence he came. Oh, and he reminded me of a fellow I know because he smelled like Axe and lemons. Dustin wore Axe body spray and drank lemon gin.
- 1991kmh
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
This and That
I was home-schooled. My mother "taught" me. However, the only two things I remember my mother teaching me as a child were the alphabet (A-Z) and shapes (circle, square, and triangle - there were only three shapes when I was a child.)
"Intimate thoughts" sound like feelings. I avoid feelings so I also avoid "intimate thoughts". It makes sense to me.
Pick-up line: I took a shower yesterday. - I didn't do it. I don't care whether he took a shower yesterday or last year. There is no amount of soaking or soaping to remove venereal diseases from one's genitals.
I touched a two-ince centipede without hesitation - in fact, with fasination. However, I cringe at the thought of touching a cob of corn.
I read science fiction. Although, I haven't read good science fiction written in the last twenty years - including the seventeen years I've been alive. Come to think of it, I haven't read ANY science fiction written in the last twenty years.
That's all for now, folks.
- 1991kmh
"Intimate thoughts" sound like feelings. I avoid feelings so I also avoid "intimate thoughts". It makes sense to me.
Pick-up line: I took a shower yesterday. - I didn't do it. I don't care whether he took a shower yesterday or last year. There is no amount of soaking or soaping to remove venereal diseases from one's genitals.
I touched a two-ince centipede without hesitation - in fact, with fasination. However, I cringe at the thought of touching a cob of corn.
I read science fiction. Although, I haven't read good science fiction written in the last twenty years - including the seventeen years I've been alive. Come to think of it, I haven't read ANY science fiction written in the last twenty years.
That's all for now, folks.
- 1991kmh
Wednesday, September 16th, 2009.
Tonight,
I realized I should kill myself. I felt the same as when I first drank a rum cooler after three months of drinking vodka coolers all night, every night. It feels like "Woah, there has been an easier way all along!" I prefer to avoid difficulties. Because of this miraculous realization, I know how I should kill myself - vodka! Obviously not only one bottle of vodka will kill me. Goddamn unavoidable difficulties. Alas! Don't be discouraged. Updated method: 2 bottles (quarts) of vodka, 2 bottles of cough syrup, and 2 bottles (300 capsules) of Tylenol - for ol' time's sake. Yay! I'm super psyched. Oh shit, I'm going to require at least $100 for this suicide extravaganza. Goddamn difficulties.
-1991kmh
I realized I should kill myself. I felt the same as when I first drank a rum cooler after three months of drinking vodka coolers all night, every night. It feels like "Woah, there has been an easier way all along!" I prefer to avoid difficulties. Because of this miraculous realization, I know how I should kill myself - vodka! Obviously not only one bottle of vodka will kill me. Goddamn unavoidable difficulties. Alas! Don't be discouraged. Updated method: 2 bottles (quarts) of vodka, 2 bottles of cough syrup, and 2 bottles (300 capsules) of Tylenol - for ol' time's sake. Yay! I'm super psyched. Oh shit, I'm going to require at least $100 for this suicide extravaganza. Goddamn difficulties.
-1991kmh
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Monday, September 14th, 2009.
Tonight,
I argued with my father. "You're an ass." He'd gone out of his way to kill and insect I'd gone out of my way to save from my sister, Jennifer - she's entomophobic, assuming entomophobic is the scientific term for "fear of insects". "Please don't use THAT language." I laughed in his face. "Ass? Dictionary definition: A slang term for a donkey; a slang term for a part of the human anatomy; a technical term for you." It wasn't amusing or clever but he cracked a smile. "Please don't," he repeated. "Ass!" He frowned.
- Exit my father; enter my conscience - . The honest to God truth is that my father is not actually an ass. Me? Yes, I'm an ass, a genuine ass. A moment of self-depreciative reflection and I followed him. "Dad?" He sighed, "Yes, Kaitlin?" I didn't know what to say so I said what I knew. "I'm sorry. I'm fucking - he cringed - frustrated with two men in my life - Matt and Ryan, if you were wondering - and I'm releasing my frustrations on you, you being the only other one, man in my life." He exhaled. "Thank you. I love you." I said that I loved him too - which I do. I retreated, defeated by my own foolish, selfish, anger and pride.
Fifteen minutes after my own defeat of myself, I sat in bed and cut myself. My name is Kaitlin and I am a self-injurer. - Hello Kaitlin - . How? either hot objects or sharp objects. Most of the time, the latter. Why? Either I want to or I feel I need to. Tonight, the latter.
I argued with my father. "You're an ass." He'd gone out of his way to kill and insect I'd gone out of my way to save from my sister, Jennifer - she's entomophobic, assuming entomophobic is the scientific term for "fear of insects". "Please don't use THAT language." I laughed in his face. "Ass? Dictionary definition: A slang term for a donkey; a slang term for a part of the human anatomy; a technical term for you." It wasn't amusing or clever but he cracked a smile. "Please don't," he repeated. "Ass!" He frowned.
- Exit my father; enter my conscience - . The honest to God truth is that my father is not actually an ass. Me? Yes, I'm an ass, a genuine ass. A moment of self-depreciative reflection and I followed him. "Dad?" He sighed, "Yes, Kaitlin?" I didn't know what to say so I said what I knew. "I'm sorry. I'm fucking - he cringed - frustrated with two men in my life - Matt and Ryan, if you were wondering - and I'm releasing my frustrations on you, you being the only other one, man in my life." He exhaled. "Thank you. I love you." I said that I loved him too - which I do. I retreated, defeated by my own foolish, selfish, anger and pride.
Fifteen minutes after my own defeat of myself, I sat in bed and cut myself. My name is Kaitlin and I am a self-injurer. - Hello Kaitlin - . How? either hot objects or sharp objects. Most of the time, the latter. Why? Either I want to or I feel I need to. Tonight, the latter.
-1991kmh
Sunday, September 13th, 2009.
Tonight,
I was standing in my backyard, a cardboard box balanced on my head - an impromptu umbrella to protect me and my cigarette from the torrential downpour. Several minutes and a cigarette following my exit from the great indoors - entrance to the great outdoors -, as I was lighting another cigarette, I noticed an older woman, standing in her open garage, with her own cigarette. She appeared to have noticed me - or rather, she appeared to have noticed me noticing her noticing me. Thus, being the personable and sociable person that I so obviously am, I did the neighbourly thing and skipped - yes, skipped - through the rain, across my lawn, the street, and her driveway, and landed squarely on a cement block - strategically placed in front of her open garage, effectively blocking her vehicle, a black SUV. She stepped backward - ah, she was "taken aback".
I raised my voice, "I noticed we have similar plights!" She registered no observable understanding of our "similar plights" so I continued, "I noticed we have both been dismissed to our respective yards to enjoy our cigarettes in the pleasure of the tropical storm!" She laughed, uncomfortable, I suspect, and proceeded to invite me into the protection of her garage. She introduced herself - Annette, Rosemary, or Anne Marie, I think. I introduced myself also. I spelled my name "K-A-I-T-L-I-N". She complimented me on it, repeating it two or three times to add a sense of honest emphasis. "Oh my! A very pretty name!" I smiled. Oh my! I thought, a very common name! As a matter of fact, the third most common name of 1991 - the year I was born. I highly doubted she was aware of so trivial a fact so I immediately informed her of it. She smiled.
We made genial - good word, like "genital" - small talk for four minutes, which I timed, silently counting to 240 while engaged in superficial expression of my social ability. I'd go so far as to label it "superability". Anyway, four minutes and one cigarette later, I politely excused myself. I promised to return on my next cancer-causing excursion. I skipped joyfully - or joyously - through the rain, across her driveway, the street, and my lawn, and landed in my garage. I poured myself a drink - don't worry AA, diet raspberry iced tea, be happy AA - and reflected fondly on mine and my neighbour's similar plights.
As I promised, on my next cancer-causing excursion, I returned to my backyard, a cardboard box balanced on my head. To my dismay, Annetterosemaryannemarie's garage was closed - I felt suddenly alone.
- 1991kmh
I was standing in my backyard, a cardboard box balanced on my head - an impromptu umbrella to protect me and my cigarette from the torrential downpour. Several minutes and a cigarette following my exit from the great indoors - entrance to the great outdoors -, as I was lighting another cigarette, I noticed an older woman, standing in her open garage, with her own cigarette. She appeared to have noticed me - or rather, she appeared to have noticed me noticing her noticing me. Thus, being the personable and sociable person that I so obviously am, I did the neighbourly thing and skipped - yes, skipped - through the rain, across my lawn, the street, and her driveway, and landed squarely on a cement block - strategically placed in front of her open garage, effectively blocking her vehicle, a black SUV. She stepped backward - ah, she was "taken aback".
I raised my voice, "I noticed we have similar plights!" She registered no observable understanding of our "similar plights" so I continued, "I noticed we have both been dismissed to our respective yards to enjoy our cigarettes in the pleasure of the tropical storm!" She laughed, uncomfortable, I suspect, and proceeded to invite me into the protection of her garage. She introduced herself - Annette, Rosemary, or Anne Marie, I think. I introduced myself also. I spelled my name "K-A-I-T-L-I-N". She complimented me on it, repeating it two or three times to add a sense of honest emphasis. "Oh my! A very pretty name!" I smiled. Oh my! I thought, a very common name! As a matter of fact, the third most common name of 1991 - the year I was born. I highly doubted she was aware of so trivial a fact so I immediately informed her of it. She smiled.
We made genial - good word, like "genital" - small talk for four minutes, which I timed, silently counting to 240 while engaged in superficial expression of my social ability. I'd go so far as to label it "superability". Anyway, four minutes and one cigarette later, I politely excused myself. I promised to return on my next cancer-causing excursion. I skipped joyfully - or joyously - through the rain, across her driveway, the street, and my lawn, and landed in my garage. I poured myself a drink - don't worry AA, diet raspberry iced tea, be happy AA - and reflected fondly on mine and my neighbour's similar plights.
As I promised, on my next cancer-causing excursion, I returned to my backyard, a cardboard box balanced on my head. To my dismay, Annetterosemaryannemarie's garage was closed - I felt suddenly alone.
- 1991kmh
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