Saturday, April 17, 2010


photo by Jaime Ibarra

I'm scared.

Inside, I feel my fingers wringing, twisting, grasping at each-other.
Constantly, I concentrate on my breath and push fears to the side.
However, currently -I feel the panic. The panic of failure, failure in everything.
My little evil demon, he's clinging to my ear, panting out doubt and ridicule in slick acid tones.

I've learned some sense of silence...

There was a time when I would say exactly what was on my mind, without much hesitation.
Now it sticks there, in the back of my throat, unable to move, and with a sigh, is filed away
There was one point, where I always had someone to tell everything.
No, it's not anywhere as easy. There is no one to tell, there are no words to justify me.

Silly me, what was I thinking?

This is a trial.
A trial of strength, determination, dreams, faith and love..

You have to love yourself.

But as my friends weed themselves out or plant themselves more solidly into my life, and I find new friends and reconnect with old ones, I feel this panic as I watch the uncertainty of their loyalty to me. My burning bridges and rash behavior weigh heavy on scales and why am I being judged? So I get in my car, and I drive away... and if you'd like to keep a small place in your heart for me to return to, I promise, I'm doing my very best.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

[Sample Meagan] New comment on Cockpit.

"would you shut the fuck up already? you artsy fuckin' dweebs are annoying beyond belief. i tried to read one of your posts but really couldn't manage to make it through more than a couple paragraphs. then i checked the next entry and a few after that... same shit. gee, let's see how intriguing and intellectual i can possibly sound by using big words and finding alternate ways of saying things that could be said in about a quarter of the useless drivel that you spew all over this fucking page. you write like you're so divine and aware of yourself and life in general. you don't know shit. let that penetrate your skull and sink deep into your turtle brain. you're really not that cool, bud. you're a fucking child who's just as clueless as the next. i felt the need to rip you a few new assholes because i've seen many people like you, and you all think you're such individuals. well, you're not. you probably idolize people like marilyn monroe and kate moss even though one was a filthy, drug addicted slut who got fucked by half of hollywood, and the other a delusional cunt into blood play and self mutilation, also a drug abusing pig. you do things in an unconventional way because it's so much cooler to be "different". you love anything "retro". you smoke cigarettes because it's so damn fashionable looking, not because you're addicted. you take nude photos with your hair a wreck and render them black and white. you're attracted to guys with a long hair and a 5 o'clock shadow. you wanna blow johnny dep. i could go on and on. there's a million of you so called "individuals" out there. can't you just act fucking normal? FUCK. would it kill you to not try and be so different? true individuality comes from one living as their true self, not being abstract just for the sake of it. for you, achieving singularity is a goal, not a natural state of being, thus making you a phony, over analytical bitch. i'll say it again, you're NOT that fucking cool. get over yourself. keep your judgments to yourself. maybe one day when you're a little more self-aware, a little more conscious, you'll understand exactly what i'm saying. until then, keep taking artsy photos with half of your face in the picture. man, so cool. so original. fuck off. go join hollywood with the rest of the brainless cretins."