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06/08/2005 04:05 p.m.
Miss Saigon Today. Coughing all night. Stupid dog wanted out and in, out and in three times last night. No sleep. I got the grade 12 band award, English award and Chemistry award. How Eclectic am I. For once I got a plaque other the band one. Wow. Now I can put my chem one up beside my four band ones, lol. What a geek.

Yesterday evening was beautiful. Felt yucky all day and then he made me feel beautiful. I think he's beautiful. We walked through the empty parking lot at rutherford mall yesterday and I smiled and held his hand. Two years later, and the place is deserted and the suns going down and we're holding hands. What a life.

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Come here
06/04/2005 05:06 p.m.
God I miss her. Jen. She makes things make sense. She makes things clear. The funny part about it is that isn't at all what she feels about herself. But I miss the icecream and sweetness and talks and even the crying, and the books and Nirvana and Marilyn Manson. I miss it all and she hates where she is save for maybe her mother and definately her boyfriend. That stupid fucking trent. She hates him and hes an asshole to her and he's the reason she puts blades into herself. That and her dwindled self esteem. But fuck! What kind of retarded father figure hurts his girlfriends daughter to the point where shes bleeding? I hate Sherwood Park. I've never been there but I hate it. When she's here, things are more or less ok for a slice of time. I want that for her all the time. No matter where she goes. But I get so afraid when I here of things she does, particularly things she does that I dont do, that shes said she doesn't want to do, because I feel like its one more step between us. I'm afraid that the people I need, the people that make me feel alive are slowly distancing themselves from me. I guess it stems from Jordane... then Barbara.... I dont know. Dont even get me started with that.
I am currently Angry
I am listening to Ray Charles

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"Cut myself on Angel Hair and Baby's Breath"
06/01/2005 06:00 a.m.
Ok, wow, so I don't know how to deal with this. It's... all... different feeling. And I know she's trying to be better and make everything work and be ok, but- I dunno. I wanna trust again. I want to. It's not that I don't want to. It's just that, well, trusting again, according to journal records, would be the 3rd or even 4th time. Third or fourth. Why does it take 3 or 4 times over to realize things that should be obvious. that wasn't a question. And now it's stressed. Strange. It's like edging toward someone on the other side of a frozen pond that you know (from past experience) doesn't hold well. And just when you start to feel comfortable on the ice you start to imagine that you can see each crack fanning out from your feet, getting ready to drop you into the water... Except theres nothing to suggest that the ice is really breaking. Just this hunch... Just that feeling, that survival instinct that tells you "Trish, you've fallen through 2 or 3 times before. You can't do that again." And I can't. I just can't take a risk I've taken before and lost more than once. And maybe that makes me a bad friend. Maybe friends are supposed to be able to forgive forever... but I can't do it knowing one day I'm gonna feel that low again.

I can't even talk right! I can't smile right. I can't look at her without feeling like I should feel more into it. Feeling like I should be able to get over this. But I know I shouldn't be able to. That this is perfectly normal and expected and fine. I guess I just wish it wasn't. I guess I knew a way to make it feel ok again. But words won't do it, and deeds, while sweet because it shows that the outcomeof this really matters... just, I guess, fuck, I don't know. I guess they just don't wash. I miss something that seems utterly and forever behind me. It's like missing last tuesday or something. No, that day doesn't "mean" something. It's just an example. Something behind me. Something I can't reach behind me and grab because it isn't there anymore. Yesterday is just an idea. A model. Yesterday doesn't exist, and tomorrow doesn't exist, and each second as it passes passes into nothing. So where does that leave this?

Jen, hun, don't worry if you're worrying. I haven't called because I had laryngitis or however you spell it, and not exams are creeping up on me. This is other stuff. This isn't {that} or you, despite the nirvana in the title.
I am currently Unsure

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What Now?
05/04/2005 07:29 a.m.
What do words fix? Their just words. True ones. False ones. What do they do?

You can't fix things twice unless you break them a second time.

What now?
I am currently Awestruck

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Mute
04/14/2005 03:17 a.m.
We've all been sucked dry. Where has it all gone? where did all our beautiful words and creative tads and thoughts, insights and inspiriations.... where have they gone and when did they drain away? How have we become so molded and dull? Why can't anyone's love unfold into beautiful words anymore? And if it doesn't now, then how was it all written before this? Where are her words, or his- theirs, anyones! Jen's the only one with any passion left in her right now and it's so... strange. It's so oddly still on this site. Ghostly.

It's all grey. Why? And why don't we change it? Why do we not kiss in lines and poems anymore? Why doesn't anyone do this and how is it that everyone forgets a piece they're so eager to pick up in the first place? Why do friends not having anything sweet to say for eachother, any hearts to overflow? Where has it all gone?

I don't need to remember. I've hung myself on that brilliant crescent a hundred times in the sky. I have it here with me, clear and bright and exhilerating, softened with time but still there, still shining, still treasured. So why do the words stop short?

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WHY
04/06/2005 07:56 a.m.
Your fucking blogs Barbara.... fuck. Welly's, Dover's, I love you guys, let's get that straight off the bat. Love you guys and love hanging with you, just so you ALL know that, and I'm not irritated with you, it's just this. All this. It makes them feel like you couldn't just hang out with them on prom night and be happy. you'd rather be alone with llowyn than be with just us... and when worse comes to worse, like now.... I mean, they read this. They can see. They can tell. And you let them, your friends, see this, and thats ok. This is somehow ok. And then with Jord... God you have no idea of what the past five years has done to her and... AND THIS IS ALL OK? HOW IS IT OK? She's tired. Of all of this... how can you not be exhausted? I'm so tired barbara, and we love you so much but God it just gets to that point. that point where you're so frustrated you dont give a fuck what you say or who it cuts. and frustrated or not, when your mood passes, we're still cut.
But Jord... I almost wish there was a way you could somehow look in a magic mirror and watch the past 5 years of her life and really see it. I dont know if you could get it. FUCK it makes me so angry I could scream or hit something or slap someone! And its ok because you have a new safety net...

I dont know what this is about. you could ask but i'm not sure. Jord. Maybe its about that, and how i've watched it all this time, from brennen on. Maybe it's about Llowyn. Maybe it's about that new found liberty that comes with new found moral standing. Maybe it's all the layers and maybe I'm just tired of peeling them back. Maybe in the morning I wont give a shit. I just.... that fucking blog. I dont know. Dont delete it. Don't erase that part of you for anyone. It's there whether we all like it or not. thats whats becoming clear. fuck, all over proms and fucking keychains. What the hell are we all fighting for? Why is this worth all those words? I'm crying without anyt tears and its really phenomenal. I'm just so sick of all of it. Not you. I'm not sick of you or mad at you so much as i'm sick and mad at this whole fucking shit with the cliques and what feels like replacement and rejection and favouritism and seeing everyone get shot in the process. i'm done with being shot. I dont know what I am in this situation. I do know that she read your fucking blog. She read it and somehow its ok, and I'm confused.
I am currently Detached

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So tell me.
03/25/2005 09:42 a.m.
So tell me. What would you want me to say? What could you say that wouldn't be exactly everything you've ever said and ever broken? What words are there left that haven't been cheapened or falsified or just plainly disregarded? What can we say to eachother anymore? I don't even know you if I can't trust you with words and feelings.

You find the point in it, because I'm sick of searching on 'our' behalf. It's your turn to do the dirty work. The hard work. If you want it fixed, fix it, because I can never seem to fix it well enough to keep it from breaking.
I am currently Exhausted

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Here it comes.
03/24/2005 09:10 a.m.
Read at your own risk. This is another infamous ramble from de Gracia's ever burbling head.



FUCK. Just fuck it all. Nothing feels right for some reason. I can't focus on anything. School is shit. I'm not even trying anymore. I'm lying about my grades and my ambitions. I don't know what the fuck I want anymore, in terms life in general. And love, love soars until I land again and then the foundation seems to feel shakey. Seems a little tipsy. As if we need little perennial explosions, like cap-gun ammo blasts, to keep us going. Like we thrive on drama. Like every now and again we start to forget what we cherish. Like it fades, goes pallid until we slap it in the face and blood comes rushing back. Is that good? The good thing is we know underneath it all that there IS blood to rush back. That that precious fluid needs only to be tapped. but that looming 5 foot 2 figure makes her reappearances every now and again in this sitcom, like some fucked up little cameo to boost ratings. What I wanna know is why the same old trick keeps on tricking the same old audience. We freeze when we smell smoke, gasp at all the mirrors. Smoke. Mirrors. Why the hell can't I heal? I feel like I need to be reminded, like that Only Heart quote, but is it really ok? and can he really understand it? But FUCK What the hell is wrong with me with school. Why can't I do anything?? I'm frozen. I can't do schoolwork for more than 15 minutes without feeling trapped, sucked into a void. Dead. I feel so fucking dead with school. theres nothing in it. It doesn't matter. I mean, yes, it matters, college, fucking scholarships, blah blah blah future, blah blah money, blah life. BUT IS THIS LIFE!? The sad thing is I don't know a fucking alternative. Here trish, you're god. How do you want things to be? And I don't know! I'm like a bloody lab rat in a maze and I can't picture anything before or after white cardboard walls and my grey fucking fur. the only sounds I hear are my own little claw scratchings and the sounds of my organs at work. Why the hell can't I focus? Then there are the people. Fuck. Fuck me.<<<(Meant to sound like "Fuck. Me.", a sarcastic "fuck you", and not like "fuck me, please.") Because everyone is thin and hollow and transparent. Tissue paper. Saran Wrap. Girls, all girls, except maybe Jen (Doe), are just mist. They evaporate. Their words do too, there ideas, their opinions- its like there never was anything there. White space in newspapers. And if their not thin they're fucked up in other ways. Blissful and naive and self serving, or maybe it's just that I don't feel like any of them care about me. At all. Which I suppose I deserve for everything I just said of them. But it's bitterness maybe. My biting the hand that never fed me in the first place. I think that's it. Their thin and wispy because I dont know them, and they dont desire to know me. They don't care. Or they're miles and miles away. One after another... they stop caring... they stop conversing. They leave and I'm left there with no one and nothing except the bitterness that finds refuge inside my fists and behind my eyes. Not Julie. Not really Jord. Definately not Barbara. Leah? Becca? Jen schaper? Who else???? One by one I'm too different or "holy" or smart or Harewood or stupid or anything else that amounts to space.
I wish Jen would come home. Get on the plane and just stay here. She gets it, and even if she doesn't shes trying to, or pointing out that its pointless. But maybe it's good that shes far away.Maybe if she wasn't, I'd lose her too.

I don't know. Just what happens when the renowned safety net breaks? When all her supports crumble, so she rips and tears. Who mends her? Who holds her hand? From past experience, there are 3 people who lend hands. One is in another province. One holds your hand, but would just as soon bite it. And then, thank god, the third rubs a kiss in and doesn't let go.

Bear with me, this is spring cleaning.

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Lucky
03/07/2005 07:16 a.m.
How do you ever get to the point where love asserts itself as poignant little pangs in your gut, little knawings when you realize that even though they've never really been there in your arms the whole night, suddenly you miss them enough to feel the void? How do you get to the point where someones voice, and just knowing they've been thinking about you just as much as you've been thinking about them, can turn the worst weekend ever into nothing. Into fineness. I'm the luckiest girl in the world.

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Hallucinating?/Boy
02/03/2005 06:33 a.m.
Dragons puking on the floor? Gemalee, are you on drugs? Lol, I sure hope not, because that would be rough. ART! I might get into ART! Oh gosh.... I dont even care if I turn out to have somehow lost all ability to draw, I might be in art! For once I don't give a shit what anyone else will think! This is fuckin Liberating! And a SPARE!! What the hell am I gunna do with myself? I'm gonna have fun! I'm gonna read! YES!

Today was the funniest day with me and Jordan. We kept stepping on eachothers personal and emotional toes. It was funnier when we were discussing it. We can make eachother feel dumb and "debate" heatedly all the way through the front door, and at the end of the night, I find myself giving him a back rub, lol. "You can be the stubbornest bastard in the world, and I still love you." And ladies and gents, that's real love. I have no obligation to this boy. I have no reason to stay aside from the fact that he's wonderful. Aside from the fact that I love with all my heart, and to be honest, it's a marvel still to me. How do I love this boy? How did I get here?... How did I get so lucky? At the end of the day there I am, loving him some more, and not just physically either. I like connecting with him because it fits. It just feels like everything settles into place when we just lie there and hold eachother. Trivial details of the day don't undermine the major underlying foundation here. THAT'S the stuff that makes everything worth while, so long as the feeling's reciprocated.

Gema, if you're still reading this, thanks, lol. I wonder just how many times you rolled your eyes at the above paragraph. Cept now you're all back in love-lust-love, so you maybe said aww. I feel like I can breathe again. A fresh start. A new semester. Wow...

p.s. I sing live infront of over 800 people on friday

alright, it's go time...

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