CRASH

i feel like i'm having open heart surgery
which is funny because i thought i didn't care
or at least knew that i could take it like a woman
maybe im just playing games
i'm crashing down on both knees
waiting for the knife to fall
cut off my silly head
to live those last eight seconds
knowing i was a disembodied head
rolling about on the floor
finding white in black
waiting for the knife to

a year ago i had the charming hooligans perform at my eighteenth birthday party. on monday, i will be present at their rehearsal, as an at least semiactive member. this also means that i'll be nineteen tomorrow.

while this fact would usually fill me with the joy of the ages, the fact that another year has come and gone does not fill me with a renewed sense of starting over and self worth. although there were some definitive good points to my nineteenth year (mainly new friendships that blossomed that i promptly stomped on before i had a chance to enjoy them) i can't say that i came out on top. i was doing allright towards the end, mentally, and i thought i had finally been able to really flush the toilet on everything, but it turns out my sewage doesn't work too well, and things are just kind of gradually floating to the surface. this doesn't mean i'll give up, i just need a plunger.

but nevertheless. i fucked up. a whole year of my life was just... i can't honestly say wasted, because of those definitive good points. i'd rather have had just those good points, than having none. but jesus christ. i could have done with a little less shit. i destroyed 12 years of schooling in one fell swoop. i destroyed three years of a happy relationship several times over. i lost friends. i made more friends. lost those too. had the chance at a higher education, but nothanksguy, i'd rather be a waitress.

all is not lost. this seems to be my continuing mantra.

but my birthday is tomorrow and my tonsils are the size of small marbles.

this is a bad omen.

"the sun is emerging from the clouds."

let's hope so. cause i could use some of this yellow light in my life.

##############

i've come to a conclusion.

if suicide ever becomes my last remaining option or if i'm just that bored, it will be to the sound of the smashing pumpkins' cover of landslide.

while this has seemed like a good idea for the past few hours, a second thought is emerging. why the fuck would i want to be depressed if i was going to die? i'd like to change my answer to get this party started by pink. thanksbob. ##############

once upon a time there was a little peasant girl who lived on the outskirts of town. behind her house lay a great field. wandering through this field one day she noticed a particular flower. she stopped and dropped to her knees to get a better look at it. it was a beautiful piece of nature. the girl began to visit the flower every day. she talked to her flower endlessly and they became great friends. they were sitting and talking one day, like any other day, but out of the forest came a giant evil dragon, breathing fire and spouting foulness. the peasant girl screamed as his big nasty foot came down on her house. her screams gave away the fact that it was her house, and i'll be darned, she wasn't in it. the dragon could not have this. he began to chase her. the sound of his heavy steps versus the breaking of her voice. she ran to the flower.

i'm sorry flower, i have to go. i have to leave and escape this dragon.

this made the flower very sad.

this is not your fault, flower, this dragon is chasing me and i must run to the next town and try to escape or i will die. the peasant girl saw that the dragon was occupied with some of the townspeople so she stooped down to speak with the flower. i'm sorry that i have to go, flower. i'll be back. i promise. i love you.

and with that the little peasant girl ran off in search of sanctuary.

the flower waited and waited, day in and day out. the winds changed and new buds opened up, but still, the little peasant girl showed no sign of returning.

the flower was sadder then it had ever been, in it's whole flower life.

...

one day the little peasant girl returned. she walked through the field to the spot where she had spent so many days talking to her flower. but there was no sign of her friend there. she knelt down and began to cry.

i'm sorry i left you, flower. i'm sorry i couldn't stop running. i'm sorry i hurt you. i love you, flower.

the peasant girl laid down in the field, next to the spot her flower used to be in, and cried herself to sleep. she dreamt of death, and saturating the earth below with herself.

and she vowed to never wake up.