why won't this post?

.....I can't fucking take it.

I'm pregnant.


I've been fucking him for longer than most of you have even known I've been fucking.....those of you who even knew that I lost my virginity.......and, no, it's not andrew's.


Damn it all to hell. Well, if I'm gonna confess, might as well do it in the most impersonal way possible....I don't want to see the looks on all your faces, the shame, the horror......goddamn. Why the hell did I let this happen to myself?

I want to go to bed.


My name is Linda and I'm stupd and irresponsible and a slut...and I don't even know where he is. On with it.

A jazz trio version of "accustomed to her face" from......fuck....My Fair Lady is playing right now, and existence itself is so shoddy and unsatisfying that it should be classified with certain types of mold.

Hating life would be a step up, at least it would be interesting to find some contempt in everyone and everything. This I am simply bored with. And tired out of my mind.

The thought of taking my own life has, once again, taken it's place within my thought pattern. Right there next to dreading work, hating school, and loving Millay, Ani, and Matchbox Twenty is the desire to shove off this mortal coil. I used to say things like that because I hoped someone would rush to my aide. This happened very rarely. Anyone who ever made the conscious effort to keep me alive is no longer in my life at all....I miss Max. I had hoped to see him sometime and make plans with him back when I was still okay and tell him that I was good, that I no longer was obsessive or a stalker or a suicidal drama queen. If I were to see him again now the conversation would pretty much consist of me telling him...how much I've backtracked. How I don't even really want to be saved anymore.

"And in my hour of need
I truly am, indeed
Alone again, naturally."
-Gilbert O'Sullivan

By my own doing, admittedly....

I have no evidence that jeff is even still alive....he sent me an e-mail on the 20th, I sent one back about half an hour into the 21st and instructed him to call me to claim me whenever he wanted to see me- I gave him the option of any day this week. And sunday. Tomorrow is sunday and maybe Jeff has died....no one would think to tell me, as I do not belong in his circle of friends at all. Same goes for elorza, but I talk to elorza somewhat more regularly......wouldn't THINK that would be the case.

I need Jeff in a way I do not consciously let myself need anyone. Think I'd blow off my whole life for him. Maybe even the rest of the fab five.....sorta feels that way right now, but if that's not exactly the sort of elitist thought that I'm not supposed to have, or at least express, when it comes to them, I don't know what is. Probably not true, either, but damn...........I get weird without him.

He probably knows I need him. It probably freaks him out. He's probably trying to get rid of me. I'm probably a paranoid bullshit.

I rented Breakfast at Tiffany's along with American Pie today and have not watched either, but desperately want to be watching Breakfast at Tiffany's, so I may just go do that. Or freak out. Or drug myself and collapse for an indefinite period of inconsciousness.

Yeah, that sounds good.

My name is Linda, and I spelled "good" six times before gettting there. Guess I'm not really familiar with the word. On with it.

Good moods don't last long.

"I don't know what it is about you
I just know it's not what it was.
And I don't know why red fades before blue
It just does."
-Ani, Sorry I Am (I think)


With each passing day I seem to have less and less faith in the ability of a group of five to make me happy. Jeremey and Elorza remain as distant, however good-intentioned, as they always were. Entirely untouchable people, complete opposites in many ways, entirely the same in others. Jeff and I haven't spoken or seen each other in more than two weeks, and our correspondence has been in the form of a limited amount of e-mails. I fear that perhaps he's been to this god-forsaken site and got offended, but I'd like to think he knows me better than to ever take anything insulting I said about him seriously at all.....he is the best human being I know to exist...well, possible exception of Nick, but I can't pretend that there is anything I wouldn't do for Jeff, and I can't pretend that I even have the ability to give myself that entirely to anyone I've known for such a short as Nick. Em is still beautiful, funny, supportive, and quintessentially female as ever, and she is my best hope for survival....but I've spent the day with her now, and I come back feeling lonelier than ever, if only because I cannot stand to hear myself bitch when she is near, if only because I work to keep the adoration she so amply has for me. Rich Kid.....I find myself thinking of him less and less when he's not here, and that's dangerous. He'll be hurt to read that if he didn't already know....but I'm working on it, I swear......no, that's a lie. I intend to. My point is that I can't lie to the internet whether or not he's part of it. This is the place I go to be real....when it's not the place I go to be fake.

I remember distinctly a few years ago, when emily and I were dating, walking home one night and hearing my mom screaming for some reason or another from the outside of my house, and hoping to a metaphorical god that I could find the courage to keep walking past that asylum, to go on into the night, find something on the other side of it that would fit me a little better. Tonight, walking home, the dark silence that left me to my thoughts was such an obtrusive enemy that if had had to walk through it for a moment longer than I did I would have fallen to my knees begging mercy from the soundless voices...."no light but rather darkness present" or whatever Dante said. With each though my disdain for myself outgrew my disdain for the fact that my reasons to return to my own life grow smaller with each passing minute....I needed to escape and still do, but to what, to wear? I would have to bring myself with me.

"and I'm so
terrified of no one else but me
I'm here all the time
I won't go away
it's me, yeah I can't get myself to go away
it's me, and I can't get myself to go away
oh God I shouldn't feel this way"

Matchbox Twenty, Long Day. There was a time in life I wanted nothing more than for Jeremey to tell me that song, for him, was for me. Certain lyrics. "I'm sorry bout the attitude I need to give when I with you but no one else will take this shit from me." All I ever wanted to be for him was the person he could depend on no matter what....I can't even depend on myself anymore. Matchbox Twenty wrote about a thousand songs that applied to him and I, including my favorite song of all time, Push. I'd quote it, but I've quoted to much already, and I'm not even really sad about him. Maybe just the lack of his being an assett to me, like everyone else right now.

Leave, yet another song by the great MB20, is Mr. Ladd.... I had a correspondence with him tonight and yesterday night.....well, in reverse order.....everything in life hurts so much. I need to go to bed. I wish it were sunday so I could sleep late tomorrow morning and when I awoke, Nick would be there to say stupid, stupid things and make me feel.....distract me, anyway. He tries. I love him. Maybe he loves me, too. Maybe the whole world does. Wouldn't matter.

"It's aggravating
how you threw me on
and you tore me out
how your good intentions turn to doubt
the way you needed time to sort it out

Tell me is that how it's going to end
when you know you've been depending on
the one you're leaving now
and the one you're leaving out"

My name is Linda and my elbow hurts, but that's pretty much the best of it. On with it.

most of all, my god! HOW DO I MAKE MY EYES DO THAT???

I'm in a good mood for the first time in a really fucking loooong time.

Because I'm not at work.
Because I'm not going to give a damn about seeing jeff until he decides to see me.
Because I have 67 dollars in my pocket.
Because my lips taste like razzleberry. (I know it doesn't exist, shaddup)
Because Ani is amazing.
Because Blues Traveler was singing that song FOR ME.
And because, they're right, I do have fucking beautiful eyes.

Don't you miss looking at them? Yeah, you should.

Cheap trick WANTS ME TO WANT THEM
NEEDS ME TO NEED THEM
WOULD LOVE ME TO LOVE THEM
IS BEGGING ME TO BEG THEM

They better shine up their old brown shoes and put on a brand new shirt, eh jeremey?

I miss Jeremey...Jeremey, would you come see me sometime? PLEASE? Ya can even bring Nick and Ben, they like me. Fuck it, they love me! I'm great! Hell, pack Chad in the car and.....you can eat him if something happens and you get lost in the woods. Like in the play.


My name is Linda and I'm gonna go order some chinese food and then rent some movies with emily......on with it!

Sorta sick that my boyfriend's reaction to that last post was that of a perverse oppurtunist and not a concerned or angry boyfriend. But I wouldn't like him half as much if he wasn't sorta sick.

I went for a walk today, at first it was supposed to be to the big apple then to the teen center where I would listen to Ani, who, amidst all this bullshit that's happening to me, still makes me feel better than anyone I've met......or at least than anyone I've met has so far. I ended up going from the big apple to the high school to check to see if Mrs. McKee was working the same long-ass hours she was yesterday, and then I hiked up route 9, where, upon seeing Andrew's mother drive by, I called him. I was about a half a mile away from his house and he started walking to meet me. I went to his house and got the grand tour which involved talking to *both* of his parents. *shudddddder*

I called home for a ride- my mom isn't allowed to eat today because she's having a camera shoved up her ass tomorrow looking for cancer or something, and she's feeling weak and sick, so my father had gone out to eat without it being a personal affront to her. So when I called she said she'd have him come get me upon his return...which apparently wasn't for a while, because when Jenn called, my mom had her pick me up. This lead to me and Jenn making movie plans tonight, and since I'm leaving in twenty minutes and I want to covertly eat something without my mom knowing about it first, I'd better be finishing the unclimaxal post.

My name is Linda, and, uh, I......fuuuuuuuuck, YOU try and come up with things to say about me over and over again, see how you do. On with it!

I am sick of the idea of "love". I don't choose to believe right now that people are really capable of "love".

Give me pure black LUST to make me feel better about myself. Men! Lesbians! Tell me how fucking much you want to defile me! What dirty things you want to do to every inch of me! Make me feel like the vibrant sexual being that I am instead of this weeping pile of emotional shit that CANNOT feel loved.

Lust is the key. Describe the ache you have for the drippings of my body, tell me how often you've awaken in sweat just thinking about the way my body writhed over you.

I am SICK of love. I do NOT believe in love. And I haven't been REALLY turned on in so long it's frightening. I want
disgusting
indecent
tangible
heavy
animalistic
LUST.

And I want it BEFORE I go to bed. Fuck me if I lose another night's sleep to wondering if I can make anyone love me the way I want them to....I can make EVERYONE lust for me if I want them to, and that's what I'm going to use tonight.

Come on, lavish that impropiety onto me. Make me feel it. Right ---fucking--- now. Tongues, fingers, cocks, dildos, shove them all into my mind and wherever else. I want to break a fucking sweat. It doesn't matter who you are. I always was a whore.

Love does not exist.
Love does not exist.
Love does not exist.


But I can touch lust with my hand like a swollen vulva.



My name is Linda and I'm sick of Leaps of Faith. I don't have faith, I don't even believe in faith. Love does not exist.

On with it!

Sober now,
I'm cold
Alone
I'm just a person
On my own
Nothing means a thing to me
Oh, nothing means a thing to me.


Kay's Choice, I'm not an addict is the only MP3 on my playlist, and I have it on continuous play.

I'm just read an e-mail I wrote to jeff.....a really fucking long time ago. Beside the part where I talked about Derek, it pretty much all still applies. Except that still doesn't seem to imply- I was happy between then and now. I just no longer am.

I'm gonna include the whole thing cause emily says, and is right, that I'm too lazy to edit or re-explain. If Jeff, or the others mentioned in it, has a problem with me doing this, they can tell me....well, elorza can anyway. But elorza never SEEMS to have a problem with anything.



Subj: "Sober now/ I'm cold, alone/ I'm just a person/ On my own"
Date: 03/04/2001
To: Jeff

"Kay's choice. "I'm not an addict."
There is no bad time for this song.

It starts out talking about either pot or crack, I'm thinking it's pot though because it seems to be innocent enough, in a gateway drug sort of way. And people who don't believe that pot is a gateway drug need to blow me and FUCKING like it.
I ever told you that the reason Andrew, my ex-best friend, ever was my best friend was because he told me he was going to do ecstasy and I decided that I couldn't take caring about him when I knew he was going to do that himself: I couldn't stop him, and I could not have dealt with worrying about him. He took this as a sign that I cared about him more than most people who have never talked with the use of their voices care about each other, and took the fact that he didn't want me to stop talking to him as a sign that he cared about me as much.
He doesn't think ecstasy will be detrimental to him because all of his friends who do it say it's fine, not addictive, not dangerous, and he trusts them. They don't know what I've found out from research: Ecstasy destroys the part of your brain that lets you feel, gradually.
It's been about nine month since Andrew became everything to me through his plans to do X, and he is still planning to do it. He is no longer definitively my best friend, and I have lost the ability to let myself think about how much I love him- I will not feel the loss anymore.

Ecstasy destroys the part of your brain that lets you feel, gradually.


Someday I will understand the symbolism. I'll know the moral. I'll be able to explain it in a way that others will be affected by it, and comprehend it, and learn from it. For now, it just sorta makes me think.

I just punched a wall. It fucking hurts.



I hate drugs.


The funny thing is, before I put on this song, this e-mail wasn't meant to be bitching about what the availiability of mind-altering substances has done to innocent bystanders like me. "Innocent victims is an outmoded idea- if you live on this planet your guilty, that's it, fuck you, next fucking case." Yeah. The point is that I'm not looking to take away your little escape, or maybe I am, but that wasn't on my agenda. I just hate my life right now.

In between paragraphs I just started crying and I really couldn't tell you why. Scratch that, I started sobbing. I don't actually cry anymore, I no longer possess the physical ability. There are only three things that have made me cry in maybe the past 6 months- the thought of my and Andrew Elorza's relationship, the thought of my and Andrew Lunt's relationship, and the rememberance of my dog. Possibly my father, once. But I can't cry anymore, for the most part. Maybe once every two weeks or so, where it used to be several times a day. They say that's the last stage of moderate depression. Then you go onto that stage where you lay in bed all day and do nothing.........bring it on, I guess. I hate my family, I hate school, the only thing in life I'm living for is the fabulously fantastic five. Not even my dreams anymore, I've pretty much come to the conclusion that I'll never have the motivation. I don't think I really want the motivation. It's all about the fabulously fantastic five....and Derek.

Derek Gierhan. Drummer of Triangle Sleep, the band I believe I described to you as being spiritual for me last time I was at your house. I've been talking to him online lately....a lot. While I'm trying to persue....some romantic scenario with him, he's proved impossibly important to me as a friend, while I've only considered him one for maybe a week. Less, I think. The fabulously fantastic five is...fabulously fantastic, but I don't really talk to you guys about what I'm feeling. Emily's one of the happy people and could never understand, Jeremey's one of those friends who needs me when he needs me and has no clue how to help or listen, Andrew Elorza....I don't need to need him, to be vulnerable there, he's only good for me about a fourth of the time....less, much less, and I don't really trust Andrew Lunt yet, especically when he keeps giving me reasons not too. You're my best resort for bitching, but you're going through so much more than me right now. I don't mean for that to sound...well, I don't want it to obligate you, trust me, I'm better when I'm helping than needing help. Either way, I've sort of exhausted my bitching rights to the fab-fan-five.

Yesterday I smashed my sister's keyboard on the wall. That sentence creates the impression that the keyboard was, in fact, broken, when in truth I was probably more damaged by the incident by it, but I don't want to belittle the feeling I had by expressing it with a sentence like "I picked up her keyboard and sort of tapped the wall with it, which hurt my finger". It was a good hard hit, it's just a damned resilient keyboard. I had a mini-mental breakdown, anyway, that was the point. And when I was done smashing things, I wrote to Derek...because, who else? I never actually finished the e-mail because Emily called halfway through and came over and I dry-sobbed in her general direction for a while. I'm not really making sense anymore but my point probably has something to do with the fact that I've known him for a week and sometimes I feel like he's all I have left. That's probably something really awful to write in an e-mail to someone whose an obvious place for me to turn...but....hey, your a writer, you understand. I feel everything, very little of it is rational and less is permanent.

I'm just a person on my own.



Maybe I should be trying this drug shit, huh?

"It's not a habit, it's cool, I feel alive"


I don't feel dead, I just feel like life is a trap....I want out so badly.
...and my father is in the other room playing music by the Everly Brother's that is on the movie "Bye, Bye love", a movie about fathers and daughters that makes me cry every time because I do not have one, despite the fact that there is a guitar playing and a voice sining in the other room that should be the voice of the man I could call Daddy.....

I have a phone call.


damnedly,
Linda"



yeah....that's pretty much accurate. Life is kinda shit.

My name is Linda and I'm not an addict, but that's probably the only thing right with me. On with it.

If I had stored up everything I was thinking about posting for the past couple of hours, I would have to sit here for hours typing it. But, such is the case on any given day- I'm a writer, things that I want to write down go through my mind as constantly as air comes into my lungs.

I just typed "Lunts". Am I used to it, or do I miss him? I don't think I miss him...I don't really miss anyone lately. Except whoever I mentioned that I do miss on here. I'm nothing if not honest!!!

{That should tell ya a little about what I think of myself as of late, if'n you know me well enough. If not...ha-ha!}

I gotta return Dirty Work (and pay late fees) and go to the big apple to pay Tracy, who recognized me, the sister of her sister's ex-best friend from the 8th grade, and let me get off without paying the refund for the coke I got with a "free coke" bottle cap in the purse that held my cell phone and cd player as I ran today.

That's what I need to do, get to the damn store and buy myself a tape player...for to play tapes. While I'm running. Yes, it occured to me today that a CD player just will not cut it in certain situations, so I have decided to buy myself a tape player.

Didja get a load of that? I figured I needed a tape player today so I decided to buy myself one. I could go get one right now if I wanted. God-dayum, does it feel good to have money! With any luck, my two injured coworkers won't come back for the rest of the summer, and I'll keep rolling in the dough in their absence. As much as 4 hour shifts do suck. (I'm the victim here!!!)

The cap of the coke that I bought with the cap of a coke past says "Please play game again." Please. It SHOULD say: "Haha, we're taking all your money, you caffeine-fiendin' loser! See ya tomorrow....actually, more likely later tonight, huh sweetcakes? MWAH HA HA HA!"

Okay, they probably couldn't fit all that. Hmmm...what's something amply taunting that they could manage? How about just a reflective surface, so that I would look down at it and see, once again, the very visage of dependence. Or a little stick figure falling down and breaking in half, as if to say "Guess what this carbination, along with your NEVER drinking anything healthy, is doing to your bones?"

Hehe, Linkin Park is on..."I'm about to break!" takes on new meaning when picturing the afforementioned.

45 minutes before movieland closes.....should I rent a movie when I go to return dirty work? In lieu of, oh, let's say, going over to someone's house, talking, hanging out, or all the other cool things I could have been doing if I hadn't blown off everyone else to sit home, again, and wait for someone to call. Again.

Yes, I know I said "again" twice- it was deliberate. I got a lot of bitterness right now, and I'm about 99% sure he doesn't check my site.

Let's test this:
HI JEFF!!!! YOU BIG DUMB BALDING OAF!!!! HOW ARE YOU TODAY??? HAVING FUN WHEREVER THE FUCK YOU ARE????


Shall we wait for a reaction? Yes. Let's.

Don't get me wrong- I'm entirely unable to ever actually be angry with him to any degree. I'm just resentful right now. Of, yeah, everything and everyone. But let's through it all at Jeff, being that he'll never know about it!

Goddamn, I can't even think of insults right now, they don't come naturally with him. Something about the way the light shines off of his head and his thick, thick, thiiiiick glasses just warms the cockles of my heart. Bastard.

He'd almost be as perfect as Nick, except that Nick is CONSIDERATE.

My name is Linda and I'm going to Movieland...any suggestions on what to rent? On with it.

My thumb smells of barbecue sauce, and I am only posting to kill time between eating and going for a run. (I almost just called it a "runny-run".....the andrews are inluencing me far too much)

Did I mention I saw Max today? I did, briefly, at the bank. Credit union. Whatever.

"There is something amiss
I am being insincere
In fact I don't mean any of this
Still my confession draws you near."
~Blues Traveller

Ah, Hook. Theme de Linda. Not my favorite song, but certainly the me-est one out there.

This was sorta a pointless post, as I am now on my way out. To listen to ani and run along the road.....yeah, and walk most of the way. But what do you want? I'm just tsarting up.

My name is Linda, and yes, that's right, I'm just tsarting. On with it!