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[08 Apr 2007|08:53pm] the past two weeks have been absolutely incredible and yet heart-wrenching. my brain, stomach, and heart feel completely disoriented and astray. the next 3 months are going to be absolutely horrendous, and it terrifies me. but knowing that in july, i will be in new york city, with just me, my suitcase, and 3 best friends... gives me something to look forward to, and a reason for motivation. if i could, i'd spend my days in nashville and nights in the heart of la. 2 : you will? you will? you will?

[13 Mar 2007|11:34pm] my birthday is in 26 minutes. i remember when i was fourteen, seventeen just seemed the perfect age... and here i am. fuck. aur revoir. 4 : you will? you will? you will?

I think I'm going to start using this again. [08 Mar 2007|09:24pm] [ music | i want a sunday kind of love. ] bonjour. there is nothing quite like a cup of peppermint tea, old photos, and a bit of etta james. my birthday is in 6 days. xx 1 : you will? you will? you will?

[31 Dec 2005|09:07pm] [ mood | Nostalgic& Ready for the night ] [ music | David Bowie ] My witness is the empty sky. ( 2006 ) Ps. This is my last entry on xinsertxherex.. I have moved to _lozengeoflove 6 : you will? you will? you will?

[10 Dec 2005|10:00pm] New Livejournal: Lozenge of Love. goodbye. 3 : you will? you will? you will?

You will always have a part of me, Noone else is gonna see. [17 Nov 2005|10:32am] [ music | The Good Life ] My Half-Sister was born! Finley Grace Bennett On November 16th and weighed 7lbs 3oz. 19.5 inches. I cannot wait to meet this beautiful child. 4 : you will? you will? you will?

And I feel nothing, Not Brave...Its a hard day for breathing again. [12 Nov 2005|08:57am] Today I woke up too early. Today I woke up and switched my bangs to the other side of my face. Today I am going to wear my leopard coat. Today I'm hoping Luna will call me. Today I'm seeing someone I havn't talked to in too long. Yesterday was November 11th and supposedly between 4-7pm you were supposed to make intentions for the future... My intention was that I was happy. Simple as that. I said it outloud in the car and such a simple phrase was so painful to say. Today is the marking of two weeks till thanksgiving. Two weeks till I meet my new born sister, Two weeks till I see my father again, Two weeks till I get to wake up to snow. Have a good Today. Have a good Tomorrow. Have a good November. you will? you will? you will?

[22 Oct 2005|07:43pm] Just when you think youve hit lonliness to a 3rd degree burn, someone comes around and makes a break through in your life. I had a physic reading last night and they said my life would never be perfect but I would always be alright. They said I will be happy in a couple of monthes and someone has just recently or will come in to your surroundings who will have an effect on you. I knew exactly who they were talking about, and theres not much more to say than thankyou. Please do not leave me like the rest have, that is all I ask for. besides the point, I really am craving a pair of pirate boots.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine~ [17 Oct 2005|06:07pm] Today I slept really late, didnt go to school, wrote a history essay, uploaded pictures from my camera and watched Dr. Phil.. and all I wanted to do was go outside and dance in my big striped coat. I guess there is always tomorrow. I found this picture though.... 1 : you will? you will? you will?

[15 Oct 2005|10:35pm] I'm wrapped up in my father's old cashmere sweater with nothing else on, my window is wide open and it is pouring rain outside, my mind is still on a continuation from last night [verge of tears], listening to some old Neil Young...and yet, I've never been so content. I never understood some of the things I did, I said, or felt. 3 : you will? you will? you will?

[14 Oct 2005|09:28pm] [ music | I will follow you into the dark. ] I miss the girl I was a year ago. Something has truely changed and I keep estranging myself farther and farther away from the former me. And all I want to do is capture it again, lock me up in a vessle that is stronger than me and stay in that safe environment forever. Anyways, Luna has departed from Los Angeles. I'm taking an amazing photography course. I'm thinking of deleating my myspace. I havn't written a true story in way too long. I quit smoking and miss my Marlboro Lights and I'm going to Nashville in a month to meet my new unborn baby sister named Finley Grace. Hope all is well. 3 : you will? you will? you will?

[25 Sep 2005|11:12am] [ music | The Stars. ] The clock moved a Quarter of a turn The time it took a cigarette to burn She said, You got A lot of things to learn 12 : you will? you will? you will?

its me and the moon she said. [04 Sep 2005|09:34pm] october 6th. my lunafaye is moving to south-america. leaving me here as a heap of tears, with a pack of marlboros that she'll need to replenish [legally], a pair of sevens that no-longer fit, old text messages ill never delete, and just a hope.. a hope that we'll never lose the connection we've created. long distance charges wont apply, time distances wont hurt our lack of food, and maybe there will be clothes to flaunt in argentina. ill always have a closet here you can organize, a body aching for one of your hugs that make me spill all my coffeebean but not care, and a story to tell that only you could hear. im quite sad but can only be thankful for having you live so close for so long, and having you as an older sister. for caring more than any family member, for not judging ever. we both will have our doves on our walls and poloroids displaying the perfection of each other we'll never see. there will be more writing later..but im just taking one day at a time. making the next month go as slow as possible. your little sister loves you...until the moon goes out of orbit, and understands why you have to do this..but hates reality.

[20 Aug 2005|12:54pm] it's a cheap hotel, the heat pipes hiss, the bathroom's down the hall, and it smells like piss. it's another night in another town and i'm another blues traveler headed down. falling out of love is a dangerous thing, with its slippery slopes and its weighted wings, with its birds of prey circling overhead casting vulture shadows on barren beds. let me out, set me free. the clock inside the church bell tower rings your name every hour, i see your face, i touch your hair, then the ringing fades and nobody's there. falling out of love is a treacherous thing with its crucible kiss and its ravaged ring.. with its holy whispers and labyrinth lies, sacrilegious hungry sighs.. let me out, set me free.

[17 Aug 2005|11:04pm] here i go again..saying my i love you's. who am i fooling? me or him?

dont love this story, but its all i got. [09 Aug 2005|11:23am] [ mood | talentless ] the days kept coming as she sipped time into her day. her life went by routine, everything started and paralyzed at certain times. she would wake up, dress herself enough times to be compared as the dolls her father gave her when she was younger, and yet she was never happy with the result. those dolls fucking haunted her, they would stare at her as she wrote fake suicide notes, as she drenched herself in her homework, as she ignored all around her, they kept staring. they were tangible momentos of her father, he had moved miles and miles away, and though he wasn't dead---he was dead enough for her liking. she heard his voice once a while, maybe once a day, once a week, depending on how busy work was. she never called him, that was his duty, and yet she would be upset if he missed a day. to him, she was just the conversation between work and home, and she knew it. she always felt like the leftovers in her parents relationships. they had moved on, but she couldnt, they were all she had and yet it was dissapearing just as he did. and now he was gone. but those dolls, they kept staring at her, almost accusing her of sins and she knew her wrong-doings more than anyone else. she spent days, hours, minutes just focusing on her flaws. lists, notes, essays, filled papers and computer screens of how much she hated herself. she hated how her mind took certain routes of inprisonment. she hated how she would rather be alone than with a group of fake girls, she sometimes wished she could be fake like them, like those dolls. and in some ways, she was exactly like them. penetrating eyes glancing others, cracking their skin like it was porcelien, she always discovered stranger's flaws instead of their strengths. she lived with many defense mechanisms, she didnt want to be broken again, like her father had created in the past. now she would break others, so she could share the pain. in the end, that was all she wanted, someone to understand her insides, someone who could xray her body front and back and yet grin the whole way, someone who could clear her mind, breath, and thoughts...take a syringe and stick it in.. take out all the pain, make her numb and yet real...like her dolls, remaining to stare. she just wanted to be understood.. but that would never happen, because of fear. fear of them using it against her, fear of judgement and critisizm, she would never let someone get close enough to be understood. she had let her father see all sides of her, and he had just left her...why wouldnt anyone else? if your parent cant even remain constant in your life, how is anyone else? how the fuck is anyone else? so she just sat there, didnt get ready for school that day, and stared to see what would happen. she threw the porcelien doll across her room and called her dad up. he was in a meeting, but she left a message to her assistant saying, "our relationship is over, cracked open on my bedroom floor." and then she felt alive again, finally. nothing haunting her, just a bunch of glass to clean up, but that would be taken care of because the cleaning person was to come that day. her only problem now, was she was late for school. for the first time in her life, she was out of routine but nothing felt close to stopping. infinite. 9 : you will? you will? you will?

everything in its right place. [09 Aug 2005|10:47am] [ music | radiohead- morning bell ] fucking writers block. i cant write. everything i try to put down, sounds like complete shit. i have no talent. xx

[07 Aug 2005|12:46pm] [ music | daft punk ] id never ever imagine saying i enjoyed my time in nashville with my father, but i have immensly. everything is just so much easier and laid back here. i impress here, i feel aknowledged, i feel i have a purpose here.. and yet at home, im just another person who looks like me, makes the same grades, reads the same books, smokes the same cigarettes. im just so done with that life. i am dreading to every second of walking back at school, seeing the same people who i have mingled with for 11 years. i dont need the stress, i dont need the tests atleast once a dya, its all bullshit. i do need the photography program, i anticipate the developing of my own work, i do need the literature, i do need the few who have been gone this whole summer. im dying without jenna, and noone else can say that. im dying without becca, our philosophies and theories..we'll make it next year together, right?!. im dying without miranda, miss olivia muniak, and whoever else i havnt seen this summer who i miss immensly. and to those i have seen, it means ive been able to gain enough sanity to collaberate with you again. this year i plan on giong to many open houses for new schools [wildwood really interests me and i know many amazing people there] and focusing on not getting lost in everyone else's life. i dont want to be judged, i dont want to be critiszed, i dont want to be compared. and that is what oakwood brings. nashville has given me the complete opposite, though i could never imagine residing here. my job is more than amazing, i have made so much money for myself and have impressed my bosses to such an extent they are shocked. i have surpassed my fathers expectations which is more of an accomplishment than anyone could say, and lent my heart to many. i have made friends [jill and rachel], alix and i get by with trainspotting and hot hot heat [and chips/pickles/diet cokes] and of course the new love of my life.. nikki. its so different, and nothing you would think i love. but everyday here helps me transcend enprisonment and closer and closer to freedom. i depart from the airport on monday and head towards reality..with nothing to look forward to. this isnt me trying to be emo or deep, just really whats going on and what i want/need. i feel healthy here, natural, no bullshit, no shadows locking me to the ground. and i love it. farewell. edit. im now leaving on thursday morning. and going straight to san fran. no LA till the 15th. 19 : you will? you will? you will?

there was no reason to be afraid, ever. [30 Jul 2005|09:08pm] [ mood | rested ] [ music | broken social scene ] hmm well summer has been pretty amazing. ive been reading, painting, exploring, laughing, and getting many adrenaline rushes. im currently visiting my father in nashville: last time before christmas, and ive met a few people and learned the scene. back in la im missing a lot but i know ill have a full year of all those people ahead of me. i am actually dreading every moment of walking back in school, my sanity just isnt ready for the stress and competetion.. so until then, i shall keep reading, painting, laughing, etc. i just finished reading fear and loathing is las vegas for my first time. i now understand why it is such a phenomena.. it keeps you focused and wanting more. i never put it down for a whole day, and before i knew it, it was gone. i was finished. and yet, it had a very nice closure. the drugs are fucking wild, and all of those nights that i thought i was adventourous...gives me a whole new perspective. i recognize the feeling greatly of sad closures.. in the end, the american dream is not what its made out to be, and all of your hopes and wishes are thrown down the toilet. hmmm just my thoughts, now i have to read the required reading for the summer.. some war book by tim o' brian, and i am not excited by the least. but next on my list is finishing the great gatsby, and then maybe on the road by jack kerouac. i am such a loser but i love reading and am not ashamed by my love of drenching myself in other's personal lives and thrills. as much as i love to write, i could never actually write a whole story.... it is so hard to maintain a nonexistant memory that elongated.. hmm, whatever. im going to use livejournal a lot now, but for my own reasons. they will all be public but most of them will be uncommentable. i dont know, i just like it like that. well all you hollywooders, i miss you all. Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Five years later? Six? It seems like a lifetime, or at least a main era - -the kind of peak that never comes again. San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run, but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant. There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda. You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. And that, I think, was the handle - -that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn't need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting - -on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark - -the place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.

drowning is good, in a sea of blood. [20 Jul 2005|12:54am] tomorrow starts "look-good-in-jeans" diet. or the "cokehead/model-legs" diet. which im not sure what is involved, but i have 50 days to lose my thighs. 1) anxious with our spider legs, our easilly scratched skins touching plastic amusement figures, walking across the planks of wood in our attic. my red bow paralleling your shoe-laces, the match to the one hung across my neck. when you tied it for me, we were quite a small number in age, you could of let my pain stop.. let me hang there, with the swings, let my blood be salty rain for the beatles.. but you liked to see me suffer. 2) romping across the stage, our trembling feet, keeping up with the pace, making sure us soldiers, didnt step once out of line. we were dressed according to formality, penguins marching to the storm. you could of let me freeze, you had poured my punch that night. i had seen the bottle of brandy in your coat pocket. but you drowned yourself in poison, left me there to elucidate your slurred prose, envious of your paralyzation. 3) releasing your stress at the gun cages, our marital status was vacillating and i was your prey. came home with a breath distinct of merlot, as i scorched your microwave dinner with radiation. they said i was award’n you cancer, yet my cachet in our life was the kill. i could’ve spent my last waking hour, throwing my body back and forth with yours, until you reached from under the bed with your pistol. but i never saw that pistol leave its home, and i never left your 20/20 site. 4) god only knows why i think like this. i ended up growing old in age. alzheimer's they say. my last word was about the walls meltin in, and you kidnapping my lungs and smokin dope do dispatch the torment. but you were right by my melting skin, the sun orbiting my mind, they say my chemical imbalance went in circles. only a rare case of living beings called humanity catch it, sent me right to the hospital. never was cured, never survived. died thinkin it would be your fault, knew it all along, and i was more than right. some say im phsycotic, some say i was a phsycologist.

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