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Below are the 8 most recent journal entries recorded in pirate_jenny's LiveJournal:

Wednesday, May 2nd, 2001
1:29 pm
there's this gorgeous guy that lives across the street from me. he knows he's gorgeous; he's always wandering around his yard half dressed. he's got jet black hair, kinda wavey, a face cut like a roman or an aztec, and this body that seems more like some dionysian dream of david than anything else. i sit in front of my house, smoking long thin cigarettes, and i watch him. i imagine what it would be like to be with him, what it would feel like to be held in his strong arms. i wonder if he would ever notice someone like me, someone just left of normal, just outside being human. i wonder if we could have children, or if my dna is too different, if the combination would produce some kind of monster. i wonder what it would feel like to be the one that makes him happy, that provides him with everything he desires. i would fill up his spirit with daisy petals and mozart orchestrations. i would fill him up with all of me, and he would smile.



but mostly, i just want to fuck his brains out, spit in his face, and say something like,

you are garbage.

you are bourgeois.

you have nothing to offer me.
Sunday, April 15th, 2001
11:19 am
V. Sunday

Did you intend this?
Did you fill their heads with rain,
fraud, unexpected?
Saturday, April 14th, 2001
11:19 am
IV. Saturday

Silence and vigil.
Daffodils surface in sun.
Darkness near river.
Friday, April 13th, 2001
11:19 am
III. Friday

Growing infection.
Rusted iron moves through flesh.
Hands become full.
Thursday, April 12th, 2001
11:17 am
II. Thursday

Prayer and silence.
The garden grows alive.
Finger nails and skin.
Tuesday, April 10th, 2001
9:22 am
it's really quite exhausting, this business of being human. there's got to be a better way of moving through crowds; i can't keep playing the chameleon, can't keep staying away, burned like a lepar, marching like a lemming.

this is what i'd do...

i'd change myself so that i was everything i despise, make my self the object of useless hysteria, and all the boys would love me. they'd want to introduce me to their mothers. they'd want to take me to business-related social functions. they'd want their bosses and wives to love me as much as they do.
and secretly, in private, i'd infect them with the kind of self-knowledge that could only lead to dispair. it would take a long time to build up enough self-reflective knowing and doubt, but eventually, they'd all go mad or suicide themselves or become mean old drunks.

but they wouldn't breed. i wouldn't let them. they'd be so distracted by what they dreamed me to be, they'd be so stuck in their heads and hearts, the desire to procreate would disappear completely. and eventually, there would just be silence. eventually, man would be gone from this place and the strangers left over could live with the land the way we were supposed to. we wouldn't need mists to protect our sacred spaces because it all would be sacred and there would be no danger. the gods would walk amung us, be with us, and all would be well with us.

that's what i would do, if i wasn't so scared all the time.

Current Mood: like a motherless child
Monday, April 9th, 2001
2:37 pm
I. Sunday

Bees swarm dusty streets.
Palm leaves waving, old city.
Stranger moves through crowds.

Current Mood: antiseptic
1:28 pm
i begin again, dr. y. this never-land journal. why else keep a journal than to examine one's own sense of filth?

...askingmekill them now or later

there must be something more than this. pray i find it in time.

Current Mood: nausea
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