I just got back a rather wonderful trip to Louisiana about a week ago. Things are so different there. I loved it. I'd move there if I could. And I'm writing poetry exclusively now. Not really by choice but at least I'm writing. And some people like it. I have a style. My life is in shambles but who's isn't? I'm trying, you know? Anyway, no matter what I try I'm still depressed about my mom but that's never going to change. My dad is sicker than he should be. I won't write a lot on that. Just that I see him wilting and I remember all too clearly the former glory that was my father.

Come visit me on Myspace or writerscafe. Comment me if you want the sn's.

New week, new home. I feel like a gypsy. I never stay anywhere long. It hardly ever occurs to me to be homesick. What home am I sick for? I've got nothing. But I feel like that tonight. It's like that first night at camp when your parents are waving goodbye and you suddenly realize that you don't want to be a week without them. God, I miss when someone actually cared about me and me alone. I'm 21 years old and I still feel like a kid. I'm sitting here at Jenn's and I'm wondering if I'll ever find a place where I belong. And someone to belong to. I've been running towards something headlong for what seems like forever. And what am I running to? Nowhere. I'm a dead end. I've accomplished nothing and I have nothing to accomplish. I don't really have any friends. I'm constantly testing my family's generosity. I think if I just started walking now and I ended up somewhere far away it'd be better for everybody. I'm sick of being a drain on people. And I'm sick of this deafening silence. A silence that only comes when you realize that you are nothing and you will forever be nothing and there isn't anything anybody, especially you, can do about it.

Am I back? No, not today but maybe next week. We'll see. I'll be in a different state in both metaphorical and literal senses. The big sitd comeback is in the works. Straight up.

So, as the title says, I'm out of sorts. Nothing too strange about that but for the first time in forever I don't feel like sharing. I'm doing some real work on me; who I am, what I know, who I want to be. I'm putting things in line, filing them in the right order. Blogging isn't high on the list right now. I feel a change coming with every step that beings me closer to the "big move" that will happen sometime next year. Right now that seems like a lifetime away and maybe not even possible but I'm holding on to it. I talked to my dad tonight like I was a real person. And I can't believe how good it felt. So, no more blogging for a while. I'll check in here though for comment swapping though. (So I haven't been here in a while... I'll start back again.)

J'ai bu ce soir de six kola de régime et je suis sauté à cloche-pied vers le haut sur se sentir à un avec vous. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You can run that through a translator and it will come out as mumbo jumbo. Here's what it means: I drank 6 diet colas tonight and I'm hopped up on being at one with you.

I said I'm going to keep updating so here it is. I'm here almost unwillingly. I have an aversion to writing here for some reason. I dunno. I'll get over it. I've been filling my days with VH1 list shows, repeated viewing of "Lost In Translation", and the occassional romance novel. I haven't been devoting myself (like I swore I would) to school. It's laughable that I thought I would enjoy school this year. But I guess after a summer like the one I had even this is better. College is just one gigantic transitional period. A means to an end. I have a poetry blog on blogger. Prior to this I've been a little private about it. I've posted a few on here with sort of disaterous results but blogger is a totally different world. Myspace is like where all the trendy people from high school hang out and the uncool people kinda walk around on the edges. I am difinetly walking around the edges. More later... Later... I'm up at 5:05 am again. It's becoming a ritual. I don't want to miss anything. I can't sleep. I think it has something to do with my anxiety. I dunno. The other day my overhead lightbulb went out. I replaced it with one that is way too bright so I've been walking around with sunglasses on all night. I feel like I'm on the surface of the sun. I've been craving and eating M&Ms like crazy lately. Not normal M&Ms but the peanut ones. Ever had the crispy kind? They are disgusting. Maybe I'm preparing for Halloween? I listened to Alicia Keys "Unbreakable" all day today. Like over 100 times or something. It's a feel good song. The onset of October puts me in a funk. And not the kind of funk that the Black Eyed Peas can get me out of.

My dad and I watched Austrailian Rules Football last night. I have to say that it is one of the most exciting sports to watch. It's a circle field and they all are just running like maniacs for the entire game. Glorious. It's college football day today as well as Premiership soccer so we're making a day of it. I'm really into sports lately. I guess ever since the U.S. Open (tennis). I'm really just waiting around until rugby season (January through May). I'm doing okay otherwise. School is boring as all heck like usual and I'm not really into it (like usual) but I'm here and that counts for something. I trying to get all my poems together and sort out the good and the bad maybe get a section together. I dunno. It's hard to be objective. Another, longer entry will come tomorrow. I owe it to myself.

What movie is this from? Tommy Corn: Ah, here he comes! Albert Markovski: Oh, boy. Tommy Corn: The man-poet who banged Frances - dark lady of philosophy. The parking lot crusader of truth... who turned his back on his other like a cold-blooded gangsta.

I've been super angry at the world lately and I'm not entirely out of loop on why but the reasons are irrelevant. It's not a productive attitude. Gina dying didn't help and family members that I used to be close to treating me differently doesn't help either but the problem is me. I can't put my lack of happiness on others anymore. I'm seven and some months away from being 21, a full-fledged adult. Yesterday a man came by the house and I had to sign a paper and give him a check. He flirted and kind of hit on me. I didn't notice his intentions until way into the conversation. I seclude myself from the world so much that I don't even know what it feels like to be attractive to a guy. I think that guy thought that I was just really shy. I hope I didn't make a fool of myself. School starts in nine days. I'm super excited to go home. And yes, my little dorm room is my home. I'm really looking forward to seeing this guy that I've had a crush on since junior high. He's a year older and is one of those guitar playing cool people. He has a younger brother my age who is the biggest jerk on the planet its hard to believe they are related but anyway we've never talked even though we've been around each other pretty regularly for about eight years. I just make myself transparent when I'm uncomfortable and he definitly makes me uncomfortable but in a good way. It's fantastic to feel your heart race when this totally fantastically wonderful guy walks by and maybe you make eye contact and maybe you don't either way it's great. This year I will be more bold where men are concerned. Up to this point I have been pretty unassuming. But say goodbye to Stay-Away-Val. Okay this entry sucks. Stop reading. I mean it. Right now, stop.

Oh my God, I am so messed up. I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend like everything is perfect and that I am perfect and that I am perfectly happy. Today I felt like blowing my brains out and it wasn't because anything bad happened it was just that I was being genuinely fake to everyone. People think I am so happy-go-lucky but they have no idea. I just got so upset today that I went numb. I'm doing that more and more. Shutting myself off. I thought about what I'd write my mother if I was going to write her. I'd say that my life has not turned out how I wanted it to. I'd say that if only she'd waited a little longer. I'd say that she fucked me up. I'd say that I was sorry for lying to everybody about how well I'm dealing. I'd say that she was right, about everything. I'd ask her if she could take back some of the mean things she did to me. I'd ask her why she never told me who my real dad is. School starts in 20 days. My eyes feel hollowed out and I wonder where your soul is. It't not in your heart or in your mind. Maybe it's behind your eyes. That's why you can tell when a person is evil or the one your going to spend the rest of your life with. My soul feels like it's being stretched a thousand miles. Two months ago I was looking at the lines of my hand and giving myself a palmistry reading. Yesterday I noticed that my lines have changed. I haven't looked in my book yet because I'm scared of what it will say. Do you think sexuality is a woman's greatest power?

July 27, 2005 / 10:12 am Last night was one of the hottest of my life. I wish I could say it was because of events but no, the heat index was 95. I hate sweating when I’m trying to sleep. I’ve been avoiding my diary (like usual) since Gina’s funeral. The day of it there was a get-together at Nick’s dad’s house and in the front room there was a big board with pictures of her and Nick’s dad kept saying “We’re celebrating her life” and I felt like puking or screaming or just asking what that means. Yes, your not thinking of her death but of her life but the reason your doing that is because she is dead. Gone forever. And I wonder when Nick will get tired of saying “My mom passed away” and start saying “My mom is dead”. I got tired of “passed away” about a week after my mom died and even though I know it’s insensitive to just spit it out like that I think people kind of deserve it. They have moms and Nick and I don’t. Here’s how the conversation usually goes: Someone Who Doesn’t Really Know Me: What about your mom? Me: She’s dead. SWDRKM (gets wide eyed and guilty faced and pats my hand): Oh. And a piece of me says “na-na-na” because now they can feel bad about it instead of me. Horrible. I read the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants yesterday. It was good considering it is one of those teen girl books. You should read it if you have absolutely nothing else to do and you’re a girl. I don’t think guys would get much out of it. I don’t really know any books that guys would like and girls wouldn’t except maybe motorcycle manuals or plumbing how-to’s. And do guys actually like those or do they read them out of necessity? I’ve been going up and down lately. Last night I was in a wonderful mood but then I watched the episode of Roseanne where Dan has the heart attack and of course I was sad after that. This morning I woke up (despite being extremely hot) excited to get stuff done but now I’m decidedly not excited about anything besides getting back to school in three weeks. Just to be alone in my little dorm room shut out from the world would be magical right now. I mean now I feel cut off but its not because I chose to. I have no choice. When I’m at school I can put up the walls and know that it’s me pushing them away and not vice-versa. Being pushed away is the worst feeling ever. Nick told me a few days ago that his mom used to call us (my sister, myself, and Nick) the three musketeers. I miss her. She gave Jhonna and I matching necklaces for Christmas and I’ve been wearing mine every day since I got it but Jhonna just started. And now that she’s gone (DEAD!) my mind just comes up with things I want to tell her. Like yesterday I saw Bush on TV and I wanted to call and tell her that President Pinhead was on making a fool of himself and she would have laughed but she’s dead. Maybe if I kepp saying it it will get through. It was funny my reaction when Nick told me that she was dead. I just thought “I didn’t bargain with God” because just that morning I was thinking that I never do that. I never say I will give up something or that I’ll do something to God so I’ll get things I pray for. I didn’t believe in it. But now maybe I do. Maybe if I’d said that I’d give up my diary (a big part of my life most of the time) He would have kept her on. But on the other side I think when its your time to go, you go no matter what. It could be that you inhale a pin or something. But after Nick told me I went inside (we were standing outside the Omelet Shoppe) to the bathroom and looked in the mirror and said what I always say when I’m upset: “I can’t do this” over and over again. For some reason it calms me down and I left and my dad was sitting in the booth across from me and I was saying that it must have been her time and he just shook his head and wouldn’t comment on it. And I think that maybe my dad’s faith is slipping and I can see that he is dying too. Not fast like Nick’s mom but not slow like I am either. And I don’t know what I’ll do when I’m an orphan. Not that I depend on him that much (not that I ever did, really) but it’ll be odd when both my parents are dead. Do you think you can bargain God out of death? Or anything? And if so, what’s your bargaining chip? I got a new astrology book yesterday “Ruling Planets”. It’s very accurate. It says “… your emotions are so fluid and changeable that the love you feel for a lover is going to be the same love you feel for a sunny day or a favorite pet.” Totally true. I thought I was abnormal. Matlock is on and I should be working but I can’t work up the enthusiasm to care about putting in receipts. I don’t deserve money. I discovered yesterday that I have the same birthday as Jack Kerouac. If you don’t know who he is you should first of all smack yourself across the face and then look him up on wikipedia. I finally saw Lost in Translation and Kill Bill Vol. I and II. Lost in Translation was… fantastically touching. Bill Murray is… should be in a lot more movies. The best part of that movie is when they are singing karaoke and she has the pink wig on. Scarlett Johansson is so natural. I loved her in In Good Company. I feel lost in translation. Kill Bill was really good. I’m not normally into all that fight crap but it looked like art and Uma Thurman is fantastic.

I can't believe that Gina is dead. My mind will not accept it. Last night I just thought over and over that I would go through all the pain of losing my mom again if I could take away Nick's pain. And going into it you feel like it will never be okay again and to a point it isn't but not being okay becomes normal. It's weird that three weeks ago I was truly suicidal. More than I've ever been and then this happens and I think I can't do this to my family now. But I don't think I could do it ever. Death has a way of breaking into your life and staying there. Forever haunting memories. And I don't want to leave a legacy of pain behind. Today my grandmother was in court sueing a doctor for malpractice (she broke her arm and he butchered her) and my whole family was there to show our support. Except that we weren't really being supportive at all. It's all backstabbing and gossip and I'm in on it too. And I'm wondering why I do that. Why I am so suseptable to peer pressure. I cannot just be Val. Val is an identity that I don't even own anymore. I'm a shell of the person I used to be. And I'm a broken record. This is something that I type about often. I have no sense of self and that's why I'm a horrible writer. How can I write about the world when I'm not living in it? I can't. What do I produce? Bird cage filler. And I should be writing about death. I can smell the rotton stench of it on a person a mile away. But this time I didn't see it coming. Or I saw it but didn't want to face it. Some days I wake up wanting to grab the world by the balls and I feel like I can do anything. And in theory I can. But logically I know I won't make a difference. I am too much of a wallflower, a non-issue, a pushover. Will I change? No. Hope is something that is like a fairytale to me.

I am totally feeling like crap right now. A few entries ago I wrote about my sister's boyfriend's mom being in the hospital. Well, she was getting better but then she died last night. I don't understand why moms have to die. They should just go on living forever. Nick's mom was one of the best people I knew. Very opinionated and smart and very caring. She really took my sister and I under her wing when my mom died. I don't know what else to say. It just hit me a few minutes ago. I'm not sure I can go through this again.

The last few days have been okay. I'm down but I have been down for weeks so no new news. I downloaded all of Damien Rice's stuff which isn't entirely a good idea because he's so depressing. School starts back soon and I didn't think this would happen but I can't wait. When I'm there I don't have to deal with all this family crap and wondering when and why someone is going to get upset with me. I'm working on not caring about what they think but it's not so easy turning away from something my mom would want me to do. It's funny how that works. When she was alive I wouldn't have even considered taking all that I take but now there are all these expectations and I'm not living up to them but I'm trying and it's killing me. I spend the majority of my day busting my ass doing what I think they want but then it's not what they want at all. And bitching and moaning about it doesn’t help. I need to stop this cycle of never-ending criticism and self-loathing. I will. Sometime. I am desperately lonely today. Well, most days. I’m not open to finding love. That’s why it hasn’t found me. I’m scared of devoting myself to someone. Scared of all the typical crap and while I know I shouldn’t be and it’s ignorant to spend my life alone if I don’t have to, I can’t stop myself from putting up these walls. I just need to relocate, both mind and body. My college graduation couldn’t come any sooner.

I don't have my headphones with me. They are somewhere with the rest of my dorm stuff. It sucks. I need to hear the music right there sometimes. Sometimes I just need someone screaming it into my ear. If it's not vibrating through my mind it doesn't connect. I need my headphones for sanity. Today sucked. I re-read Harry Potter 5 and finished it and I hate finishing books. Work was so freakin slow. Been on the verge of tears most of the day for no reason except that my inadequacy is so obvious now. People around me notice it. I didn't used to come off as such a moron. People who talked to me actually had some clue as to what I was trying to get across. Now it's all jumble-y in my mind. I'm twenty years old now and I peaked at fourteen. How do you go on living knowing it is all downhill from here? What motivates you to get up in the morning? I need my headphones for sanity. Sidenote: That's not me in the pic. I googled "headphones" and there you go.

I got back on Saturday from my vacation. It was exceptionally good. We all pretty much got along, I didn't get sunburned until the second to last day, and the horrible blisters on my arms and back are starting to heal. Several times I thought I might be killed in the ocean since all the hurricane action was stirring things up but I didn't and here I am. I have to admit I've been more than a little reluctant to return to this diary. I feel empty headed and uninspired. It sucks to face this blank box with nothing to say except that I'm sunburned and in a bad mood. But here I am. Mostly I don't feel like being here anymore because my good friend [nick] is gone and most of my other friends on this site are more quiet than usual. I know this is a diary to write my feelings in but what fun is it when no one comments? I have a pencil and paper in my room to write on. Here's my entry to nick: I never told you that you remind me of Dave Matthews. I don't know why you do but there it is. Some late nights spent being a comment whore with you kept me from thinking about things that kill me inside. Your advice kept me from dropping out of college. I have an unnatural obsession with knowing how you are and what your doing. I've fallen in love with your writing. I miss you terribly. Please come back soon. Later... My entry to nick sucks. Here's another try. You are sitd to me. You are not a faceless, nameless, internet person to me. And it really has nothing to do with you. I've made you into this gigantic part of my online life. And now your gone. And that's what you needed to do. I'm happy for you. But I'm not happy for me. Either way I'm thinking of you. That sucked too. I suck writing lately. Tune in tomorrow folks.

I'm off to spend nine fun-filled days in the grand ole Myrtle Beach Resort. Tomorrow will be filled with packing, driving four hours out of our way to go to a quick funeral (my uncle's dad died), and then leaving for the beach. Yipee! So nine days from now I will be tanner (sunburned), relaxed (braindead), and in a good mood (hyped up on caffiene). See you guys soon!

I should be working right now. Well, actually I'm on my lunch break so no big deal but it's weird to be in work mode and then try to think about diary stuff. I'm thinking about making this friends only. I don't like the idea that people in my family know about this and could at anytime decide to read it. But the downside to that is that I won't meet anyone new. I don't know, it's something to mull over. I fell asleep last night thinking about the movie "The Royal Tenenbaums". I really liked that movie. The best part was when Margot was in bathtub watching tv. Anyway, thinking about the movie reminded me of when I was a kid I used to fill old two-liter bottles with water and beads and make tornadoes or I would try all day long to trap my voice in a bottle. Then I was convinced that if my mom would let me have a glass bottle it would work because the plastic must have been letting the sound out. She never let me have a glass bottle to test my theory. She also never told that it wouldn't work. We used to have one of those humungous satellite dishes, the ones that pick up everything, even Mexican TV. It had this weird remote. One day I watched a show on fx about panning for gold in a stream. We didn't have a stream but I figured I could get the water hose and pan the dirt in the backyard. Great idea except that we had clay soil. I spent an entire day out in the sun looking for gold. Both my parents and my older sister saw me doing this. They failed to inform me that I was wasting my time or that I was turning beet red from sunburn. Two examples of my family dynamic. If your doing something wrong find out for yourself, even if it's the hard way, even if you hurt yourself, even if I could help you by saying "Hey, darlin, panning for gold in clay soil just ain't smart".

2:32 in the a.m. and what am I doing? I'm awake, drinking a vodka/Tahitian Treat mix, and feeling down. Why am I awake at this hour when I have to be up at seven to work? you might be asking. Your guess is as good as mine. I'm not big on the drinking thing. It doesn't make me feel better. It makes me feel drunk and I can tell the difference. Pills are better but who has pills? The hardest thing I can afford is aspirin and I don't particarily like having thin blood. So I'll drink the vodka mix and I'll giggle for a milisecond and then maybe I'll sleep. P.S. Beverly Hills by Weezer is quite possibly the coolest song ever. "...The truth is I don't stand a chance It's something that you're born into And I just don't belong No I don't I'm just a no-class beat down fool And I will always be that way I might as well enjoy my life And watch the stars play..."