| chemotherapy is | |||
| 12:47pm 23/12/2007 | |||
|
my mom and i take the long way to the florida hospital cancer institute. lately, as i gaze out of my window, i imagine am a volunteer trash collector, riding my bike and spearing discarded soda cans into my bag. when we arrive, we park and sometimes my mom gets me a wheelchair from inside and sometimes i use my walker. we go up to the fourth floor and sign in. then i sign something that sayd i consent to treatment. when i'm called back into the chemo rrom, a tech weighs me, takes my blood pressure and temperture . the chemo rooms are divided into letters. i tend to be in d. in each room, there are five chairs or beds where people go. we each have one of those hospital eating tray things and a moveable tv with cable. now its time for premeds, the medication before the medication. i get zofran which is an anti-nausea drug and benadryl, which i believe is supposed to calm me down [it completely knocked me on my ass my first treatment]. but first, they have to access my port. a port is this small circular thing that was inserted under my skin. its in my upper left chest. i receive all meds through it; they draw blood through it etc. etc. the inside is hooked up directly to a main vein near my heart or something. its just a little device to make it easier on everyone; i dont have to endure multiple tries at finding an arm vein; nurses dont have to hurt me trying to find an arm vein; its quicker; blah blah blah. i wouldn't say accessing the port hurts. its just a little pinch or a big pinch, depending on who my nurse is. one time, it took 3 nurses and several bed adjustments. i get two different chemo drugs. each takes about an hour. in those two hours, i sleep, watch tv, eat graham crackers and drink my choice of 4 delicious juices. and then i go home. wheee. |
|||
| Read 5 - Post | |||
| 07:21am 06/02/2007 | ||||
 here's to shutting up. |
||||
| Read 4 - Post | ||||
| 12:59pm 05/02/2007 | |||
| yeah, its sad. all the things i wont get to do. places i'll never see, books i'll never read. but what are you gonna do? maybe people will wonder and they'll ask. and it can be said, she's not the girl you thought she was. turn the tables on all of you and have you know that that shy quiet girl writing in the corner is fucking SICK and there ain't no fucking cure. i want to call you and ask you if you know where i live. cause i don't want anybody coming in to rescue me. i am going to go pretty up. | |||
| Post | |||
| 06:33pm 04/02/2007 | ||||
Her dead Body wears the smile of accomplishment, The illusion of a Greek necessity Flows in the scrolls of her toga, Her bare Feet seem to be saying: We have come so far, it is over. Each dead child coiled, a white serpent, One at each little Pitcher of milk, now empty She has folded Them back into her body as petals Of a rose close when the garden Stiffens and odors bleed From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower. The moon has nothing to be sad about, Staring from her hood of bone. She is used to this sort of thing. Her blacks crackle and drag. syvlia plath wrote that the day before she died. it doesnt seem quite finished to me. maybe her death was its period. |
||||
| Post | ||||
| 10:24am 01/02/2007 | |||
|
so i did not call in. i called melissia at like 11 or so last night, let the phone ring once, hung up, and then turned off the phone. i got a message from her asking what's up. this morning, she called at about quarter to 8, asking where i was. i turned off my phone. when i turned it back on during the golden girls, i had a message from tracy, saying she wanted to talk. i have a lump in my breast and i can't even call to set up an appointment to get it checked out so i don't know why these people think i will call them for something as trivial as work. [i fucking hate]i don't want to call anyone back. i have nothing to say. i tried to find tracy's email address but i cannot. i will be there tomorrow, as much as it pains me. what can i say? i guess i will just call melissia later, like at 12 when she hopefully will not answer the phone and say i am sorry and i will be in tomorrow. i will say i tried to leave a message last night but i guess she didn't get it and i am sorry. this is technically true, since i did text her. maybe i should just text tracy. yes, i will do that later. if these people don't have text..well goddamn. why wouldn't you have text? |
|||
| Post | |||
| 09:50pm 31/01/2007 | |||
| i am not even going to call in to work. i just won't show up. and then friday, when i do show up, will just act as though nothing as happened. i'll just sort of shrug my shoulders. eh, what can ya do? and since i am so fucking responsible all the time, everyone will be concerned and concentrate on whatever awful things must be going on for me at home. or maybe when melissia calls, i will answer the phone crying hysterically. i probably wont have to fake it. or maybe it wont even come to that, and i wont even wake up due to the intense pressure i am currently feeling in my fucking head. it is probably from not taking my medication for the past few days. guess what? i'm not taking it tomorrow either. dandy. i've lost faith and don't care to try and find it again. | |||
| Post | |||
| 07:26am 31/01/2007 | ||||
i have half a mind to get in my car to go to work tomorrow, if no one calls me and i dont have the guts to call in again, and just drive. drive until i cant drive anymore. i imagine i will end up in georgia somewhere. or what is the other state, louisana? alabama? i do not know the capital of alabama. isnt that sad? what good are the animaniacs? ah, its montgomery. what is there to do in montgomery? damn, there ain't much going on in alabama. maybe i should go to georgia. i hate to be predictable though. midlake is playing in atlanta on the fourth but thats sunday. hmmm. maybe i can go even farther into south carolina or something. and wait for someone to call and ask me where the hell i am, wait for someone to come and get me and fix me. that will be a good way to lose weight, ha ha. starve to death on the mean streets of alabama. jamie is in georgia. but i really have no way to get in contact with jamie. who knows if she is still even there? i wouldnt want to see her anyway. maybe i will just keep going and see chas in pennsylvania. i cant make it there on just one tank of gas though. i guess i could take the money ive been saving. but then what about coachella? oh, who knows if i will even last that long anyway. bruce can have my ticket, i suppose. maybe i will go up to boston and stalk down amanda palmer and somehow touch her in some way and become like a little pet for her, someone to refill her wine glass and encourage her to use big words that no one really understands in her songs, like anachronism and ampersand. whats a good big word that starts with an a that no one uses? ameliorate? ambivalent? thats a good one, ambivalent. so its settled then. up to boston or as close to boston as one tank of gas will take me. ha ha. yeah. sure. ok. dandy. who's with me? you can have washington i'll take new jersey you can have london but i want new york city i should get providence i've got a job now los angeles - obvious - that's where you belong now you can have africa asia australia as long as you keep your hands off cafe pamplona we can split germany right down the middle you'd hate it there anyway take berlin and well call it even you can take all of the carry-on baggage i'll trade the saskia jokes for the alphabet language and if we find out that we have any children we'll trade them off summers and alternating weekends you call it over and i call you psycho significant other? just say we were lovers and we'll call it even we'll call it even i am the ground zero ex-friend you ordered disgused as a hero to get past your borders i know when i'm wanted i'll leave when you ask me to mind my own business and speak when i'm spoken to i am the tower around which you orbited i am not proud i am just taking orders i fall to the groud within moments of impact i hit back if hit and attack if attacked you get route 2 between concord and lexington i want mass ave from the sqaure to my apartment and if we should meet through some misunderstanding ill be very sweet very patient and forgiving (now get off my side of the state) and if we should meet one another in passing despite these techniques there is sometimes no avoiding (there must be some kind of mistake) we'll raise high our white flags and say hi and shake hands declaring the land we're on unamerican we'll call it even i am the tower around which you orbited i am not proud i am just taking orders i fall to the groud within moments of impact i hit back if hit and attack if attacked i am an accident waiting to happen i'm laughing like mad while you strangle the captain my place may be taken, but make no mistake from a little black black box i can say without shame that you've lost do you know what you've lost? so take whatever you'd like i'll strike like the States on fire you won't sleep very tight no hiding no safe covers make your bed and now lie just like you always do you can fake it for the papers but i'm on to you.... |
||||
| Post | ||||
| 07:16am 31/01/2007 | |||
| our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. it is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. your playing small does not serve the world. there is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. we are all meant to shine as children do. it's not just in some of us; it is in everyone. and as we let our own lights shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. as we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others. | |||
| Post | |||
| annuals, my dear? | |||
| 04:05pm 27/01/2007 | |||
night before last, i saw annuals and the dears.    annuals kicked the dears' pansy asses. |
|||
| Read 1 - Post | |||
| 11:00pm 18/01/2007 | |||
|
as i went to the kitchen a minute ago to get some captain cruch, i noticed a walgreen's receipt from earlier today on the counter. my mom went to get robotussin [she has a horrible cold]. written on the receipt? Hello, my name is Khannabys. Thank you for allowing me to serve you today. |
|||
| Post | |||
| oscar wilde | ||||
| 09:02pm 14/01/2007 | ||||
It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information. What is a fashion? From the artistic point of view, it is usually a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months. He is really not so ugly after all, provided, of course, that one shuts one's eyes, and does not look at him. No great artist ever sees things as they really are. If he did, he would cease to be an artist. There is no sin except stupidity. Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught. The one duty we owe to history is to re-write it. The commonest thing is delightful if one only hides it. Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter. The sitter is merely the accident, the occasion. It is not he who is revealed by the painter; it is rather the painter who, on the colored canvas, reveals himself. The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution. To get back my youth I would do anything in the world, except take exercise, get up early, or be respectable. Nowadays we are all of us so hard up that the only pleasant things to pay are compliments. They're the only things we can pay. We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train. If I am occasionally a little over-dressed, I make up for it by being immensely over-educated. I never saw a man who looked With such a wistful eye Upon that little tent of blue Which prisoners call the sky. Yet each man kills the thing he loves By each let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword! And the wild regrets, and the bloody sweats, None knew so well as I: For he who lives more lives than one More deaths than one must die. |
||||
| Post | ||||
| 08:34pm 11/01/2007 | ||||
my pupils were, earlier today, the size of pinpricks. i was, once again, alarmed. i try to read, only to fight to keep my eyelids from shutting. so i give in and attempt to sleep. i wake up, only to discover i have not really slept. i go online, attempt to listen to music. my eyelids struggle to stay open. so i listen to a few songs then try to sleep. i wake up, only to discover i have not really slept. |
||||
| Read 1 - Post | ||||
groggy| 07:35am 04/01/2007 | ||||
so i woke up this morning, got dressed and all, and started looking at this webpage online of excuses to get out of jury duty. and there was one person who said they had an anxiety disorder and even got a note from their doctor to that effect and the judge did not care. this was my excuse and i dont have a doctors note. my hands are shaking, my heart is beating super fast, i am breathing heavy...i am having a fucking panic attack, my first in many months. so i sat down, tried to breathe...and said "fuck it. i'm not going." and here i sit instead, listening to stars of track and field. |
||||
| Read 1 - Post | ||||
anxious| 04:35pm 28/12/2006 | ||||
i visited my livejournal info page for the first time in a long time today and saw a weird name in my friends list and went to check it out. and its emily. emily who i have been thinking about lately, ever since reading valencia at least. valencia reminded me of so many things from my past and im not quite sure why, to be honest.its all about girls with shaved heads and fucking with latex gloves. no it isnt. its about fucking love, thats what its about. anyway, there she is. like shes never left. like the sky has been above me all along. like shes not a part of me, like shes not a part of this ink on my skin that i only got because of her, cause i was trying to impress her and i did impress her and she called me hardcore. so i think of her when i hear that word, even if its referencing some straight edge motherfucker. i looked through her entries and found this conversation that we had once, a fight. its funny in a way. she said i was the only one she was truly herself with. and its been years since ive spoken to her. how can that be? if she wants to talk to me, im here, just like the ground below. |
||||
| Read 2 - Post | ||||
| spanish tv | |||
| 02:22pm 19/12/2006 | |||
|
i see it in your eyes in the passing way your thighs rub agaisnt mine as we sit the way you start to speak and stop intermittent i see it in the brown washed out field and the dress i wore it was like a tomato with bursts of yellow like the sun a fringe like grass and a plunging neckline i see it in the bladn gutted gravel of the streets in the way no one expects me to be able to pay for my own things the way ebullient cowboys of men hold open doors the sweeties the honeys the babys the pumpkins the squashes the tomato red dress with the strap that broke you sewed it together with thick cord blue like the sky now my dress is the world it can eat drizzle itself with parmesan peppercorn dab the leafy green hem bask in the billiance of the sky lounge in the lull of the suns rays i see it in your bleached blonde hair in the way this neighborhook looks like any other with bits of hair on the floor swaths of gum stuck to the lamppost and you outside leaning on a dirty brick building wisps of cigarette smoke curling around your small twitching nose i see it in the way ivy wraps around you like a trellis in the cuts on my feet from trying to climb up to you in the way you push me away with words you barely even understand on this giant saturday so absurd with costumed solliloquies i feel i can see qute a bit though it may be blurry |
|||
| Post | |||
| virgin names | ||||
| 12:57pm 19/12/2006 | ||||
a poetic vagabond who writes pamphlets you can fold with your fingers into tri-corner hats he'll slip through the slats of your window so leave it cracked get rachel to if you cant with that bored look in her eyes shes the vision of your perfect daughter too young to order a gin and tonic but not too old for you to fondle its an addiction like all else you mutter alone with your clumsy closed hands caressing polaroids from the box you found in the attic alone with a soft summer dress that you sleep with letting its soft edged balled cotton caress the skin in between your thighs cradling it like your lost 12 year old lover flown back to poughkeepsie to keep away form the likes of you a crusty old pervert with guilt and sin caked in the corners of his mouth yellowing eyes and a dismal tank top haggard lines around your eyes and mouth flown away from the south where you make your home hoping the honeyed heat will lead to small shirts and lazy beads of sweat glistening down backs flown away like the others were driven away or pushed away and you should be locked away they say their fists clenched their purple faces praising the institution locked away from teaching a class you dont hold a degree in for daring to smell something sweet in clay and finger paint for turning the lackluster into mettle into a cause the creaky wooden beams wont support your weight im sorry you yearn to teach im sorry you wont let ms. parker teach you a thing or two about giving ill drink a toast to you tonight soy milk or lemoned tea and it wont go down easy |
||||
| Post | ||||
headachey| 03:00pm 12/12/2006 | ||||
emil eeeeeeee. |
||||
| Post | ||||
headachey| 05:23pm 06/12/2006 | ||||
i am so out of place there. its a bizarre world of femmes and studs that i know nothing of. i was invited to join a house already. i have no idea what the fuck is going on. when i search for people, it is difficult to find people whose headlines do not have alternating upper and lower case letters or symbols of some kind. some examples Q aka tha Nig who puts it down on u PaTiEnTlY WaItInG! >Can you get this pu$$y wet< I luv to eat "PUZZY M0ST REC0GNiZE tHE liGHt LoV3 is 4 Lo$eRz I GOT THAT STAY WET *lEss gEt doWn n DirtY* tHiS iS Me.... TaKe iT oR LeAvE iT *~DAT REAL TRUE RIDE OR DIE STUD~* profile names are similar - ChRiStInA MISS TAY ~!~Jucii~!~ I Get PLENTY! [RAiiNB0 BUGz] i dont think a girl who plays xbox basketball [as opposed to real basketball] and listens to my brightest diamond is made to be amongst these girls. |
||||
| Read 1 - Post | ||||
| 02:13pm 28/11/2006 | |||
|
you know i really dont see the point in doing this anymore. life just goes on, for some. im sitting here in the most agonizing pain with no one to talk to and that is my fault. it is my doing. and i cant help it and i cant stop it and it wont ever stop. and i understand how no one could ever like me being as fucked up as i am but i cant be any other way so it seems i am doomed to this lifeless life. unless i finally decided to step up to the plate and fucking shoot my way out of here. im just sorry things are like they are. i just want to be in april and happy in a field with melissa or in my bed with room aglow playing a game with karla or under a fucking canopy several years ago with chas. i hope i live out all my happiest moments before i die, like how people say they see their life flash before their eyes. there is but so much i need to be reminded of. i just want to remember lucky and toffee and all the music that has set the stage and been the soundtrack. i dont know how to go. but ive got to fly away soon. |
|||
| Read 3 - Post | |||
| 01:56pm 28/11/2006 | |||
|
you never know..when it will be your last day. its nothing to be scared of really. how nice it must feel in the moments before, you know? it must be peace. it must be like flying. like being your own airplane and flying over mountains, like i did once. i saw mountains and they looked like toys to me. i will fly over mountains before i die, i think, i hope. |
|||
| Post | |||
|
lovemassacre |
||
|
Friends Info Calendar the earth started shaking |
||
| skip | ||
| Backward | ||