ever the narcissist... or classic histrionic...
or just plain old self-absorbed asshole...



here are some ash posts i wrote, since i can't write poetry anymore
and this is the closest i get, and i wanted to keep them on my web
site so that when i die or get better, whichever... this way there
will be some record of how i felt at this moment in time.

-grace-12/22/02-

i had this conversation with a friend, and i didn't feel like going thru it all
again, but i wanted to share it with you because you shared so much of youself.
it's kinda void of feeling because when i tell this story i can't really give
it a flourish like i could if i was just journaling or making a regular post.

but here it is... it's just the basics.
i realize this is a stupid way to post something, if i have commited some
serious net-sin by doing this... please spare me this one time.


 jw:  LMFAO   
 jw:  don't make me laugh on the inhale   
 jw:  you tryin to choke me?   
 jw:  roflmao   
 jw:  i want to tell grace that i know how she feels :(   
 jw:  stupid soul stealers.   
 jw:  i dont do it for every one to sympathize but to know that they aren't
alone   
 jw:  is that wrong? i feel like an attention whore   

what did he do? 
jw:  yeah well everyone thinks he fucked me, but i can't remember that.   
 jw:  but he did other really really gross stuff   
 jw:  my mom's boyfriend who later became my stepdad   
 jw:  evil incarnate   
 jw:  we moved to alabama... and the money we got from selling our house in
hawaii was supposed to be for a house there... we came home one day and there
was a new corvette in the driveway....   
 jw:  my mom divorced him a couple months later.   
 jw:  his mother is manic, and so is he, but he refuses to take lithium,
because "real men don't take drugs"   
 jw:  he's a bigwig in the AA now   
 jw:  and them my mom's credit was ruined from the divorce and because he spent
all our money on a car and the move across the country was financed by her
credit cards   

what did he do you ask again?
 jw:  blah   
 jw:  it's involved.   
 jw:  but ok   
 jw:  he would come into my room and tell me i had better be asleep in 5
minutes or he would come in there and PUT  me to sleep   
 jw:  ok and then   
 jw:  he'd come back and if i wasn't asleep he'd get in my bed and tell me all
sorts of reasons why i was a terrible child....    
 jw:  and why my mother was always sad because i never did as i was told   
 jw:  and sometimes i wet the bed   
 jw:  and i would hide it...    
 jw:  i was ...5 i guess   
 jw:  i would put my underpants in the hamper in  my bathroom...   
 jw:  and he would sometimes go thru the hamper to "check"   
 jw:  and then he would come get into my bed and make me wear them on my face
until i fell asleep   

[although this is only one line... there is so much emotion wrapped up in this
statement that for the world and all it's contents... i cannot bring myself to
think of this as anything but a movie scene... it's the way i felt when i
cried... it's the way i felt in anticipation of him... that i really feel
emotional about. those incidents have scarred me deeper than i let myself
know.]

 jw:  all the time telling me how terrible i was   
 jw:  he only spanked me once... made me go out in the back yard... pull down
my little brown corderoy pants and underpants and i remember the belt
buckle....    
 jw:  and whenever he punished me in some weird way... like for crying... one
time i had to kneel on the wood floor for 15 minutes leaning forward with my
hands behind my back   
 jw:  he would always tell me that "this is how my father punished me, it
hurts, doesnt it"   
 jw:  fucking lunatic freak   
 jw:  he's the only person who ever hit me   
 jw:  well, my real dad slapped me one time for telling my brother to fuck
off...   
 jw:  yeah... so i have this face thing   
 jw:  if anything gets too close to it while i'm in bed i kind flip out   
 jw:  and that thing with the china doll... i don't know if you read that
thread   
 jw:  he liked to tell me that if i was a better kid my mother wouldn't be so
sad all the time.   
 jw:  ohhh   
 jw:  yeah... there was this china doll on my dresser... and my dresser was
really tall... so i couldn't reach it myself   
 jw:  and i wasnt allowed to play with the doll   
 jw:  but sometimes he would come into my room and pick it up and ask me if i
wanted to play with it   
 jw:  when i said yes he would put it back up on the dresser and tell me i dont
deserve such pretty things... and "it's pretty isn't it?" "yes" i'd say...
"you'll never be this pretty... that's why this is here to remind you what
you'll never be"    
 jw:  and so on and so forth in that vein   
 jw:  he was very jealous of any attention my mother gave to me   
 jw:  when i was 8 they moved to hawaii...   
 jw:  my mom told me she was going on vacation and i didn't see her for 2 years
  
 jw:  my mom's best friend since the crib, my aunt karen... thinks that he
molested me...   
 jw:  i had a therapist who said he probably did it when i was asleep   
 jw:  but i think i'd remember that   
 jw:  i dunno   
 jw:  well.. since i don't remember it i guess it's neither here nor there   
 jw:  but that same therapist told me to come to terms with the fact that what
he did WAS sexual in nature...   
 jw:  yeah that underpants thing really fucked me up for a long time.   
 jw:  i was always afraid to pee... i'd sit on my foot to try to hold it in...
i still do that occassionally, but when i was little i did that every time.   
 jw:  what a weird ass thing to do to a kid   
 jw:  i dunno. what was the point of it?   
 jw:  hmmm   
 jw:  i have this stuffed rabbit i got for easter when i was 3 years old... i
have a picture on the easter bunny's lap with him...   
 jw:  and i still sleep with him   
 jw:  on those terrible nights when i cried myself to sleep i used to wipe my
tears with the tips of his ears.   
 jw:  i've had to sew his ears back on twice each.   
 jw:  the fur is worn away at the top from rubbing   
 jw:  when i was 9 i decided that he was telepathic with me. i could touch his
nose before i left for school, and then during the day if i needed him i could
touch my nose and we would be telepathically connected   
 jw:  if i forgot to touch his nose i would freak out lol   
 jw:  um... no i don't think my real father exactly knows the story   
 jw:  my mom doesnt even know, although she suspected i guess   
 jw:  and my dad is going thru his own child molestation shit right now...   
 jw:  :)   
 jw:  lmao   
 jw:  and my asshole step-thing wrote a book about his life   
 jw:  i bought it, my mom and i were going to go thru it with 3 hilighters, one
for truth (which we wouldnt need) one for half truth, and one for lies...   
 jw:  well she said the whole thing is pretty much a fabrication   
 jw:  and even i can pick out a few of the lies/twists, even though i don't
know much about his life   

 jw:  i want to follow him around to the places he speaks at for AA   
 jw:  and then walk up to the podium and tell my story.   

why don't i seek revenge?
 jw:  then i would be like him, be like he told me i was.   

Did you ever see a movie called Bastard Out of Carolina? 
 jw:  i read the book   
 jw:  it was so fucking awesome...   
 jw:  god i felt so intune with that book   


 jw:  part of me wants him to admit it...   
 jw:  you know what, once when i was 11, the first time i went to hawaii for a
visit... he picked me up from the airport cause my mom was working   
 jw:  i hadn't seem him in at least 3 years...   
 jw:  and he decided to do "fun" things that i would like   
 jw:  so we were in this parking lot at an arcade...   
 jw:  and he actually said he was sorry for "all the stuff that happened when
(i) was a kid"    
 jw:  but then... i went to an alanon meeting   
 jw:  and i realized it was part of AA to make ammends....   
 jw:  he did that because he HAD to, for himself   
 jw:  i felt that was even more dispicable than just denying it all   
 jw:  it wasn't for me... it was for him   

 jw:  oh yeah he was always drunk when i was little... drink + pills.
 jw:  he and my mother MET in detox   
 jw:  he told her he was akin to jesus and then showed her these wounds he made
in his hands and feet   
 jw:  and then... like a cinderella story they magically fell in love   

------------------------------------

it is kind of devoid of emotion.
but... i'm sure as time passes i will explore these events with more emotion.

just wanted to say.

-jw
--
*~the only thing i ever really wanted to say was wrong~*

-treading water-01/28/03-

now i'm just trying to keep my fingers busy for an hour until star trek
comes on you know it's going to be the one where picard is captured by the
cardassians and tortured. i really love that one. i guess it's two i guess
the first one came on yesterday but they didn't turn my cable on until this
morning so i couldn't watch it yesterday. there are like 10 episodes i don't
have, and after tonight i guess it will be 9.

i'm just treading water now
just biding time
thinking of silly things to say to keep my fingers from looking for the razor.
like i'm not bleeding enough already.

i could have a shower
i could go get coffeee
but i won't
because i can't

so i'll sit here and write stupid replies to my own stupid posts.

and then i'll sit on the edge of the bed with a black silk scarf and make
myself black out
and make my dog look at me strange
and my cigarettes taste bad still
you know how they taste when you're sick
that's how they taste
so i shouldn't go out anyway cause i'm sick.

i'm pitiful and i'm sick
and i don't know where else to turn
i guess i just want to put my words out there i want to put them up there
on a shelf

i can't write like i used to be able to.
i could make a metaphor
i could make a double entendre
back when i was sane.
back when i felt pain
but i feel nothing now.
i feel empty and hollow
and blank

when i was 5 my grandmother took me to this lady's house in our neighborhood
who gave swimming lessons. she had a daughter a year younger than me named
Brindley. we played together once maybe but maybe she didn't like me or
something. anyway one day i went to this woman's house for swim lessons. she
told me to get into the pool and i did then to swim out to where i couldn't
stand up and i did and then she told me to tread water and she went into the
house

and i never went back to her house again.

but when i was in high school i tried out for the soccer team and i know
this sounds queer, but all i ever wanted in high school was a letter. i
wanted to be rewarded for a talent... i wanted the cool jacket... i don't
even know anymore. but i switched schools so often that i was never at one
long enough to get a letter. anyway. i made the soccer team, i played soccer
since i was 10 and guess who the coach was... that's right. mrs. swim
lesson.

so one day it was raining during practice. and we were told to bring our
suits, we'd swim in the pools at LSU...

and i should tell you that everyone says what a cool little kid i was. i was
unafraid, i would talk to anyone, and i could carry a conversation. one
thing i like about me is that everyone says i was a great kid.

so here we are in the pool... and i flash on swim lessons when i was a
kid... and i look at the coach and say, hey, you gave me swim lessons, huh?
and she said yes and i said "i was a terrible little kid, huh?" knowing that
she would say no... you were great! and she said "yeah, we had our
differences"

and on that team i felt like i could do no right. maybe she had it out for
me from the beginning. i don't know, but i rarely got to play... when i had
been one of the better players on the other teams i was on... i only got
negative attention from her. in the picture we took for the yearbook i hid
behind a tree, and no one noticed.

i don't even know what i'm saying anymore
silly stories by jen, #39.

-so this is what we call a lunchtime poll-1/31/03-

eraser/jenna/jen/piece of shit.
it's all the same thing. it's all the same thing.

WHY why can't i hear anyone say that they like me.
WHY does it freak me the fuck out?

i can't handle it.
i just can't handle it.

and then i feel terrible for shitting all over some innocent person who was
only trying to be my friend. god i've perfected the art of shitting on
someone who's vulnerable.

i'm going to lie in bed now and stare at the television and smoke cigarettes
that only taste like burnt yams because i've got this stupid sinus
infection. and i'm going to berate myself even more and wonder what's wrong
with me. yep. that's how it's going to go. i'm going to be awake for at
least two more hours. but i'm not going to come back to the computer i'm
not. i'm going to lie in bed and watch the lights flicker on the television
and wonder what in my life has made me like this.

there are a few people here that can attest to the fact.
i freak out when any affection is shown to me.

i get nervous and twitchy and change the subject.
something isn't right in my head.

why did ONE little word stir me up this much?
how can one little touch make me jump out of my skin?

HOW. how. how....
i don't know.
i probably do know, somewhere in the darkness of my thoughts that i'm going
to avoid by lying in the bed and staring at the tv and smoking and trying
not to think about how i hurt people who are vulnerable when they express
affection or even just like... even just to like me... that's a fucking
crime. i make it a crime. and it's all in my head. and i don't know how to
handle it.

oh my god. i'm going to lie in the bed i've made.

-pitiful excuse for a ___fill_in_the_blank___

-lunchtime poll revisited-2/2/03-

i don't have much to say

don't you know what i'm thinking?

i guess not.

someone stop me from giving a shit.

will it be you?

you?

YOU?

i didn't think so.

try again later the 8ball says.

ok. i think i won't.

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~
burble into gerbil
flimflam artist on the make
sourdough bread to break
kiss me on the cheek
i'll burn you with my beak
don't take this the right way
i just don't get you
what i mean to say i can't
when i'm mean i say i can't
but you can't pin all your hope on me
i'm nothing
you should know that
i'm cruel
i'm without a heart
so don't start to
love me
(those words seem so odd together)
don't build me up into whatever you need
i can't be that for myself
and i can't be that for you.
i'm trash thru and thru
the closer you try to get
the deeper i will hurt you
i will hurt you
i do it all the time
why can't you see
you shouldn't talk to me
yet when you show up on my doorstep
i take you in
you've been taken in
by a deviousness
that i didn't intend
i never mean to be mean
it's just the way it comes out
and i can't help myself
because you push me
you try to get something out of me
that just is NOT there.
it isn't there.
it's so hard for me to trust anyone.
it takes a long time.
and i speak in code
trying not to step on your feelings.
but this is the way it is.
you intimidate me with your openness
and i scatter
i run like a baby animal
scrambling
so don't try
don't try to love me
it might seem simple
but once you're in the middle
of the maze of me
you may never find your way out again
stuck on a feedback loop
like a rollercoaster
you want off you want off
and only you can do that
only you can ask for release
and i recommend you do
because i hurt you
i do it every time
don't i?
don't lie.
it's obvious to me
and to you
do what needs to be done for you.
i will miss you,
but it's better this way.
~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

i thought i was blank.
i guess i am.

-jen
--
"Well, for you I'd do anything;  I'd almost be willing to live my life over
again,almost." - from "Harvey"
~~~~~~~~~~
From: theves
Date: 2003-02-02 19:11:42 PST

its just...
probably
just
being in the right time and in the right place
when your only shelter is
maybe the dark skies?
amidst the dark desert
or the tears
running down the face

it made me smile. you silly silly girl
:D

its nothing! just nothing!
get it?
:) and 'tis it.

-trust on ash?-02/11/03-

can i trust any of you?

will you go through the next ten days with me, by my side? or will you fight
me? i want to feel like this is the one place where i don't have any
secrets. is it? no, probably not.

i went to the sporting goods store today. i filled out the appropriate
paperwork and held the weapon in my hand. ten days. 3:15pm. can i trust you
with this? no, probably not.

you don't want me to die for selfish reasons. selfish reasons. i am calm and
clear today. how will i be in ten days? i'm going to quit taking the zoloft.
and logistically speaking i probably won't have it in my hand until the
24th. will you wish me luck? peace? probably not.

i want to trust you ash, so badly i need to trust that this is all right. i
know what i must do. does this make me mentally ill? probably so.

i can't go on just existing for no reason. the pain is too much. it's too
damn much. breathing is a chore. i will hike up to the hilltop by the golf
course, an 8 story fall. not enough to kill me for certain. so there i will
put the barrel of my 12 gauge single barrel shot gun in my mouth and exhale
into it... look around and the beauty that is southern california... and
with a stick on the trigger i will keep my eyes open as i look at everything
i am leaving behind. everything that was not enough to keep me alive.
everything that i don't understand. yes. probably so.

i want to talk through the next couple weeks with you here, but if i think
for a second that you want to stand in my way i WILL desert even you,
beautiful ash.

there is no meaning. no reason for me to go on. my life has no purpose that
is not fleeting. my word for the day is resolve.

i thought it would be dark in here, but i have seen more light than you can
know. and now sadly... sadly i will leave it all. i'm sorry if i'm being so
overly dramatic, it's just the words coming from my fingertips... i have no
control.

-jen

-the only thing i ever really wanted to say was wrong.

-next jen-2/15/03-

want to type, don't want to type.

but i'll go through the feelings here, god dammit, ash you are a harsh
mistress. hr ash... human resources?ash harsh... heavenly radium? ash...
hash... pipe smoke the ashes... oh but i'm going off on my own tangent
now...

as long as i've known myself --- if one can truly know oneself --- there's
been this thing in me that gets overjoyed sometimes for no apparent reason.
it's a sense of elation that last for about 5 seconds. it manifests itself
physically. i usually make a little squealing sound under my breath. it
comes up like a ball from my stomach and lurches out of my throat.

i have been empowered by the purchase of a gun. i don't have it in my hands
yet, but when i think about holding it i squeal with delight. when i think
about getting it on with the fireman, i squeal with delight. when i gel up
my new haircut i squeal with delight. and then it's gone. but those little
rushes of joy inside of me... are so beautiful. i wish i could stretch them
out to make them less intense for a longer period of time. but i can't.

not that anyone cares, but i got a hair cut to die for. :-D
i feel like i revolutionize myself when i get a new hair style. it's
probably something they programmed into me as a young girl, but it's
something i'm thankful for. HEY! i can go and buy some hair dye! yeah that's what i'll do.
i know how trivial it seems, but for the past few months i haven't cut my
hair because i haven't had the $15 to spare.

i don't even really know what i'm trying to say.

nothing really matters anymore

my boyfriend handed me his wallet and said :
"guard this with your life"
    "i'd gladly give my life for the sake of your wallet"
"no, the money is replaceable, i can't go get a Next Jen at Walmart"
    "oh but really, it's ok, perhaps you will find a Jenerator"
"really baby, don't talk like that, you aren't going anywhere"
    "oh... ok..."
                    and i guard my secret as if it were my life.

-eg
--
Well, for you I'd do anything. I'd almost be willing to live my life over again. Almost.

-erasermush-3/1/03-

revolver

closed in a hole that the only exit seems to be
two paths light and dark
and the dark one is life
and i can't control my urges
please god don't let me do it in the house.

not in the house.
i don't want my dog licking up the puddle of blood...
sick to the stomach

but nothing
there is nothing
there's no reason to live
and now now i have the means
there's no reason to die.

god it's strange
just sitting here knowing
i could be dead soon, but won't
what am i afraid of, really?

life or death?

revolving door of desire
i stand on one side and watch it flip past
trying to peek through the intermittent cracks
but i see no future
i see no hope
i can't even see tomorrow

the couple things i said i wanted before i died have occurred
so what's left.

what's left
what's right?

flight risk
hold my passport pending investigation
pending trial
pendulum of a revolving door

and i can't pick up momentum necessary to jump into it
one way or the other
left or right
risk of flight
stay and fight

i'm weak,
i'm self-absorbed,
i'm weak.

weakling
week long
furlong
into the revolving door
revolve
dissolving pathways of the brain

left or right
what's left if i'm wrong?
nothing either way
do i fight or do i stay here...
melting in a puddle of what i can't help but create
berate myself
for not having the courage to stay or go

i sit and wait for the door to pull me in and spit me out
one way or another
left or right
but it's only me with the feet
only i can carry on
one way or another

i can't contain the puddle of who i've become
so i create self-defecating maneuvers
manure my mind
fertilize the green hills with the grey hurt
left side right side inside blown outside

still i carry on
forward? no.
i march in time
run in place
stand at the gate of the everlasting peace
without courage to sink
or swim

goddamnit if i can't swim then i should drown
shouldn't i drown?
be sinking down

no i'm left right here
no place at all
staring at a door
without the courage to ignore
it or myself
doubt pervades
persuades
engages me

stand still, i'm trying to focus.

"pepsi zen"
if you feel you need better help, then just plain ask
> for it! don't drop hints, don't act weird. just ask.
>
>    -pepsi zen

pepsi i need help

my hystrionicalitousiousness is getting out of control. i found 3 phone
numbers for couns in my areola of the unilatteral verse and now now now hi
now... i'm wondering to if i should call now i'm wondering and my mind i
know i'm here i can see me but something is switched off. i can't tell if
there's anything i love in the world. i can't tell.

the weight of the world is not on your shoulders

and that's me peeking out from under your bed, throwing things at the mean
cat.

i mean cat.
i MEAN cat.
i mean CAT.
i mean C-A-T.

damnit all, you know what i mean.

omg the STDs are eating my brain with fava beans. i don't know how to react.
i think i'm slipping.

or is it all an act?

yes it's all part of my evil manipulation.

when i was 15 he came into my room one day, my mother wasn't home.
he told me 'you know everything that ever happened to you when you were a
kid was your own fault. you were such a manipulative little child.'

and i still am. look at me. i still am.

i'm scared and lonely and i want to be loved.
and i will do anything it takes to get away from the voices in my head.
anything it takes

and suicide doesn't seem so drastic really, does it?
is it really that big of a deal to our society?
it is, isn't it?
but i can't see that. i can't turn around he's standing there
and i can't see it, i'm just a manipulative little child.
manipulative.
manipulative.

he made me that way. he created this horrid beast that i've become.
i hope he comes to my funeral. i'll leave a note telling him i'm sorry i
killed myself, i hope it doesn't manipulate you at all.

he said when we'd get into the car i'd ask if we were going to steve's
house. that's mom's ex boyfriend before him. and i knew damn well we weren't
going to steve's house, but you would say things like that just to hurt me.
just to hurt me manipulative little child.

freak
bitch
freak
unlovable
your mother doesn't love you
you aren't good enough you aren't good enough

god damnit will i ever be good enough
i can't stand it anymore
i want to be good enough

nothing i do makes me any better
i need to leave i need to hide from him
i need to i need to

SHUT THE FUCK UP
you manipulative little freak freak
no one will ever love you
no one will ever think you're pretty because you're not
the only reason people tell you you're pretty is because they want things
from you
you shouldn't smile at them
you shouldn't look at them
LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU
LOOK AT ME
look at me manipulator

DON'T CRY DON'T CRY
babies cry you are not baby do shut the FUCK UP
whimper in silence convulsing in bed and he lies down with me and i shut off

i can't believe you, your mother behaves like she does because of you
everything she ever does is because of you. you manipulator. it's your fault
she drinks it's your fault she passes out
it's your fault she doesn't love me.

rotten to the core
rotting on the shore
i can't control the past
i'm leaving here at last
open up old wounds
buried in the night
he came to me
he came on me
i was so small
inside
i can't control the past
i need to forget it all
blank
go blank
under the blanket
cold it's so cold
there's a fire in his room
yet my bed feels like a tomb
be asleep in five minutes
asleep soon
i can't sleep
i can't cry
i lie
paralyzed
learn to pretend unconsciousness
i practice this every day
so fuck you all
fuck you all
don't touch what you can't see




oh my god, what's going on with me right now? i'm sorry, i'm sorry.
-eg
--
~the only thing i ever really wanted to say was wrong~

3/1/03