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{You're eyes roll over me like blue ocean dream...
Don't you want me?}
-- Apparently, that was the last thing I wrote here, saved as a draft, and never returned to again.
Who knows when that was written
or who it was about.
<b>


My oh my, how times have changed. How I have changed. How my mind and opinions have changed.... In these past four years.
[Though things are chaotic as ever. In my head.]

I guess I should just pick up from here, because I could not possibly explain the past four years in great detail or even nearly factual recollection.
I ended up leaving Ant a few years ago and ended up immediately getting into a serious, committed relationship with JM. Things were really bad with Ant towards the end and I had been looking for an escape for almost a year. I was stuck though. Stuck in a one bedroom apartment in the Acre, with 12 cats and one dog whom I loved and a significant other with a severe cocaine addiction. All of my precious things began disappearing. My first ever cherry red guitar, my toolbox full of oil & acrylic paints, paint brushes, charcoals, tools, pencils and all sorts of arts & crafts essentials, my 32gb Ipod (twice), my digital camera, DVD players, DVD's, computer games, brand new Sony Vaio laptop.... (the list is too long to keep going.) One day I just couldn't take the bullshit anymore. I was sick of prostitutes and crackheads banging on my windows at 4 and 5 a.m., sick of going down to the basement to find strangers shooting up drugs and smoking rock, sick of the lies and stealing and the fear and anxiety and all the other bad feelings and experiences that went along with that relationship. I called my mother and said I was going to be staying with her for some time. I packed a few items of clothes and necessities, took my dog and left. He stopped me on my way out, and I was terrified that he wouldn't let me go. He asked where I was going and I told him I was going to spend the night at my mother's. He asked why I was taking my dog and I made up some reason why. I remember him saying to me, "You better come back". I assured him I was only spending one night and that I'd be back the next day, but of course, I had no intentions of coming back, ever.
And that is how I escaped.
That horrorshow at least.
I immediately began a relationship with another guy I had known for about a year. We had met at work. He was the boss' son and had had a crush on me for quite some time. I never found him attractive, though he was very intelligent and had a good heart. Even before we started dating, he would pick me up and drive me to wherever I needed to go. I didn't have a car (or a valid license) at the time, so I really depended on him to get around to important places, and he was reliable and he was a good friend. That's how the feelings started to bloom. He was such a good person, he listened, gave advice and treated me so well, I started to see him in a different light. Eventually I started developing real feelings for him and our relationship sprouted from there. That;s how trouble always begins.... when something is forced.
 

I've been having a sudden, new-found surge of feeling.
Fresh as the raindrops dripping from my ceiling. 
Freshly  wet as the paint after I painted the town red
with my own blood.
Been trying to do more. Be more. See more. Share more. HEAL MORE. REVEAL more. LIVE more. than what I already have.
Signed up for a class at the college. Signed up for Yoga and kickboxing. Gotta get in touch with my body mind soul emotions past present wants needs thought processes. %strange revelations.% Gotta get in tune with the moon, fine tuned automobile purring engine sleek and burn fasting in the past basting in the waste... 
                                                                                                                 I gotta get free of all these ties that bind me.
                                                                                                                                         Literally.
[%change the thought process%%:]
     
I haven't been writing as much as I'd like to lately, not nearly as much as I used to-- which makes me feel empty and unable. Utterly generic and predictable.
   No, not gorgeously magical at all... no, not magical at all.

There's so much I could write about, so much that I could/[have to] say- and I just cannot get it out. It's as if I've no more words left. They've fled. I took them all, each gorgeous diamond one for granted. And now there showing me what damage their absence can do.

I used to dream in black & white, 
of dictionary pages full of luscious definitions and translations. 
Sentences and fragments that held so much more blood and meaning that the notebook pages would bend and curl under the weight of the words.

Snorting lines and retorting lines.
Free  from  thoughts with my free-form thoughts.
My memories were memoirs of honesty and horror, indexes of incidences; tiny collections of recollection. 'Laundry list' journal entries of reasons and bad dreams. Fantastical fantasies filled with floating haiku's, hokku's and senryu. 
Poems were metaphorical metamorphosis' for me, littered with wild punctuation, misused grammar, vintage slang. Parallel paragraphs comparing the similarities between similes, run-on sentences with beautiful rhythms and rhymes that came just oh-so-naturally to me. 
                                                (Give me the Apostrophe Trophy.)

A set of letters formed words,
and words created pictures
and without even seeing the scene I had seen, you could imagine the image I had burning in my mind,
my mouth,
right on the very tip of my tongue--- 
A unique inscription of descriptions inscribed on the inside of my mind. 
Conversing in verses. I was lying with lyrics, using only the limited language I've learned, past down through generations from the dead before us.
Saved and educated by mouth-to-mouth pronunciation.
Shared, taught and learned from tongues and parted lips,
this graveyard language.
This graveyard language of song, faery tales and scary tales.
This graveyard language of pain and anguish that I languish.
This graveyard language... this graveyard language of the dead.
                       --------xx-----------

I'm thinking about doing so many many things as of late. Yoga classes, kickboxing, creative writing, to begin painting again, playing my guitar again, maybe start a band again, write that book, feed and car for the strays and unwanted, the lost and lonely seeking comfort and warmth. I feel most for those little creatures. I used to be them. I know what it's like to sleep in the cold with only the blanket of the sky to cover you. I know what the midnight looks like after it has undressed, slipped off that slip of blackness. 
I know the feelings of "Loss", "Lost", and "Lose".
I know the power of a dollar $ and having to choose.
I know the Wind and Rain by their first & last christian names.
I know the terrible Loneliness that comes around at violet dusk.
I know the pain of doing what you mustn't do just because
you must.
                                                 (I know I know I know I know shut up...)



x
Empty bellied & Fiend-minded,
Miss Dahlia Black

Masuimi Max interview


This is the most *Gorgeous* woman in the universe... literally. I want to consume her.
"believe in me die for me drop at the feet of my dreams keep turning green the noose you choose it's nothing new it's all an excuse the tracks are loose i hold my breath i'm scared to death this is the truth this is the truth this is the TRUTH.

you make me LAUGH MY HEAD OFF
you MAKE ME laugh my head off
YOU make me LAUGH MY FUCKING HEAD OFF."


This is probably the last time I'm going to post publically. Obviously you can tell that I don't make public entries too often, because previous ignorant losers with no lives used to read my entries and sat around talking about me, and were dwelling in th words that I wrote and were getting really involved in my life, even though they didn't know me (only seen me in highschool). These fucking losers made it a point to take the time out of their lives and sign onto the computer everyday to check what the fuck I was writing in MY journal, they just HAD to know what was going on with me in my life, they could not survive without their daily fix of Erica's Life. Apparantly my life is just oh-so-fucking interesting because OTHER people have rose up from the fucking mud to dive into whatever I write on this stupid fucking computer screen, to suck it up and spit it back out in the faces of people that like me and are my friends. See, I thought maybe since those other people from years ago have grown up and matured and have gotten lives, that it was safe to make a few public random entries where I ramble on about my day or what's currently happening, but hahahahha... I can't believe I was that fucking dumb, I totally forgot that there are still fucking losers out there that seem to stalk my stupid LJ, because I had just made that entry and no less than like 3 seconds and it was already being used as evidence to threaten someone over a fucking touch-up tattoo. FOr fuck's sake. LEAVE IT ALONE. I dont give a FUCK about you, your friends, your fucking meaningless life, your thoughts, your opinions, your agenda, your activities, your beliefs and especailly your stupid boring fucking livejournal. GET A FUCKING LIFE AND STAY THE FUCK OUT OF MINE. And don't be reading this (and I know you ARE READING THIS) and think, "Hmmmm I wonder if she's talking about me??" Don't play fucking dumb. You know who you are and how fucking childish you are acting. I really don't feel like typing everything that I think about you here, I'd rather say it to your face. That's just how I am, but you wouldn't know that would you? No, you probably wouldn't, and that makes sense because YOU DONT EVEN FUCKING KNOW ME. So, how could you possibly know that I AM SO FUCKING SICK OF YOU AND YOUR BULLSHIT. I have ENOUGH shit to deal with in my life every FUCKING DAY, and I don't need to get phonecalls or hear things about "this kid and this girl said something to so and so about you and now blah blah blah blah blah blah" Everyday it seems it'ssomething fucking different. I'm going to start stalking your journals and your BME pages and discussing your lives and agendas with everyone I know, and if you are friends with someone who is friends with me, I am definately going to let them have a big earful of shit from me because I don't want to have friends that have other friends, especially you guys. Yeah, I'm going to be THAT fucking ignorant, lame and especailly ENVIOUS.

I grow weary of displaying so much hate and resentment.
I'm sure you both will comment back some of your righteous bullshit and I will read it in the future and vomit at the sight of your idiot statements... but until then dears, be expecting a phonecall from your favorite person in the world....
little old me.
And be sure you answer the phone when I call, I got a fistfull of things to say to you.
Trust me... You don't wanna miss this.

Your truly,
Boiling blood and raincloud above,
Miss Erica

...and just think, it's little old me. Miss Don't Give A Fuck, still won't leave.

"And everytime I write a rhyme these people think it's a crime to tell them what's on my mind. I don't gotta say a word I just flip them the bird and keep going, I don't take shit from no one."

Swallowed. Hollowed.

I have been corresponding back and forth with Layne Staley's mother. I reicieved TWO emails from her today. I love her. She is sooo great and incredibly smart and has such a way with words.
I love confessing my sins to complete strangers. Haha.

anyway, things have been alright on this side of the shade.
hung out with heaher and her new bf the other night. it was definately fun, AND her friend, and my new best friend, Nick said that he would tattoo me for free, which is always an excellant thing. i have all my tattoos all planned out already. they are going to look so fucking good. he tattoos in a shop in NH, and his work is really really fucking good.so, hahaha and a big FUCK YOU to all of those kids out there getting shitty crooked tattoos of dumb generic shit from some lame-o fucking high smoking weed, tattooing underage kids out of his basement... yea, that's wicked fucking cool huh? haha. fucking losers.

anyhow, ralf and i have been just great lately too. we are so in love it's sick to watch us together.
we both attended a cook out at my father's house earlier today and it was really really nice to be there. honestly, i was excited to go, because my cousin Jimmy was there and i haven't seen him in over ten years, and it was really really cool to find that he had grown up to be pretty cool. he plays guitar and digs Led Zepplin and Nirvana and all the early 90's bands that i love oh-so-much, and especially, he likes ALICE IN CHAINS, which is all that matters to me. ;)

anyhow, ralf just showed up here at my friends house, so i am off to be with my baby and watch some flicks.

see you all around.
maybe.

butterfly heart and bruised arms,
Miss Erica

Not too fucked
2day.
Maybe...

"Rose white. Rose red. Rose up in my head. God I HATE you. God is DEAD."
i'll give up, it wants me dead.

goddamn this noise inside my head.

S[t]ol:en'

01: what is your first memory of me:
02: how long have we been friends:
03: tell about one memory we share together:
04: describe me in four adjectives:
05: if we could spend a day together what would we do:
06: name one thing you really don't like about me:
07: name one thing you really do like about me:
08: if you could give me a gift what would it be:
09: have we ever gotten in a fight & about what:
10: have we ever hugged:
11: have we ever danced with each other:
12: have you ever seen me cry:
13: have i ever offended you:
14: what is something embarrassing that i've done:
15: what do i usually look like when you see me:
16: what do i say all the time\whats my catch phrase:
17: do you think we will be friends in 5 years:
18: do you think i am bitchy:
19: has there been anything you wanted to tell me, but didn't:
20: what advice would you give me, in general:
21: wanna make out:
22: suggest a band / cd for me to listen to:
23: is there a song that reminds you of me:

Currently writing with disgust

All I have to say is that there are some people on livejournal that are complete losers haha. It makes me laugh when I see people trying so hard. Ahhhhh.... hahaha... it's fucking hilarious. It's like I can totally picture these people saying, "Ooo look at me look at me!! I fit in too!! I'm like you... please please oh please like me and think I'm cool!" Fucking LAME. Whatever. It's really none of my business... I say, let people do what they want as long as it doesn't concern me.

Anyhow, Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. I can't really explain why, but it's just something about the way it feels. Everyone seems to be in good spirits and it's starting to rub off on me. I can't wait to re-start skool again. I'm gonna have a blast. Also I'm looking forward to tomorrow, might go hit up the club with Heather and Ralfie and I hear Trinity might be going... I just hope the plans are still on. If not, I'm still chillin with Katie... so it's all good.

Ripe as a cherry and butterfly heart,
Miss Erica

oh sweet revelation...
I will never forget this past weekend.
Thinking of you. Thinking of you. Thinking...

burn the bitch...

i made my first new icon. how do you like it? it kind of sucks actually, but whatever, it's my first time using that program.
i'll make better ones once i get my new pics on my computer.

anyhow, i've been up since 8 am. i'm going to take a nap now...

weary stars & anxious scars,
miss erica
xo

I am what I am...

DisorderRating
Paranoid:High
Schizoid:High
Schizotypal:High
Antisocial:High
Borderline:Very High
Histrionic:Very High
Narcissistic:High
Avoidant:Very High
Dependent:Very High
Obsessive-Compulsive:Moderate

-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! --



_________________________________________________

awww.... aren't i soo sweet and loveable?
kiss kiss
x