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read CUNT

Oct. 28th, 2006 | 12:37 am

Naima’s Womanifesto
with all mankind has done to my sisters
that i can still love
you
all
that is the power of being a woman



i hate...this internet....my neighbors...my sinuses.

i love...fiona appple...CUNT....life.

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loosely based on 'Shop Girl'

May. 27th, 2006 | 08:58 pm

Some nights alone, he thinks of her;
and some nights alone, she thinks of him.
And some nights these thoughts occur at the exact same moment
and Mirabelle and Ray are connected again
but neither one would ever know it.


And he thought, how could he miss a woman that he kept at a distance so that when she left he would never have to miss her?





{I'm sure those are misquoted...but to be honest, i don't really care. They are just as beautiful in my mind. It's the feeling that lingers.}

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sometimes I get sad.

May. 12th, 2006 | 08:34 pm
mood: sadsad

what's left is...



I need you.

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i need you so much closer.

May. 12th, 2006 | 01:34 am

I have been thinking about the way I percieve the word want.

I heard it in a song the other day and it made me feel awkward. Almost uncomfortable. In context, it meant to want someone sexually or in a romantic way. And when I heard it I felt 15 again. Like I felt when Lilly would say it or I could see it in her. Not so much for me, but for anyone. Anything. Hearing it then felt intense and foreign. It felt unwelcome or wrong. As if I didn't think that was appropriate to hear or see from someone else. That scares me.


I can't remember the last time I wanted something and could state it. I can't remember saying I want anything. Well, simple things like food or clothes or entertainment, but nothing in depth or whole. Nothing that would satisfy anything more than a physical or slightly mental hunger. Nothing that would fill my being. If that's even possible.


I can feel myself wanting sometimes. I understand that there is a desire. The problem is naming what would satisfy it. I get so confused I give in to filling it with things I have used before: food, clothing, movies, frisbees. This tends to feel like sacrificing several lambs instead of a person. Filling a greater want with a few smaller fulfillments instead of giving myself the greater satisfaction. But that is only because I don't know what that satistaction I'm craving is.




To be honest, this isn't all my original thought. I wish I could claim this as mine, but infact it is derived from a book I read a year or more ago. Appetites by caroline knapp. READ IT. If any of this sounds remotely true. Read it. Twice. And then a year or more later read it again. I want to. When I read it before it hurt with how true it was.


I'm not sure where this leaves me...but I wanted to put it down. So someone else would know too. Tell me what you think. Please.

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and I'm not body or how I choose to destroy it.

May. 9th, 2006 | 01:06 am
mood: disappointeddisappointed

sometimes I remember how fucked up I am. How hard some normal things are for me.


sometimes I think I can fix this stuff on my own. That I would be okay if only I...

the problem is, the more I recognize the problems the more I ignore them. Or even worse, see what I'm doing as I'm doing it.




There should be so much more than this.

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i'm so tired

Apr. 24th, 2006 | 03:16 pm

I have my own apartment now.

i live by myself...well, i will soon.

I'm moving in today...maybe.




this is weird.

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(no subject)

Apr. 6th, 2006 | 12:15 pm

Stuff's happening.



big changes.



big problems.



big stresses.



Big fun?






word.


p.s. I turn 21 in 5 days. Shouldn't I be excited or something? Fuck.

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i thought for a while that your poignant smile was tinged with the sadness of a great love for me

Mar. 25th, 2006 | 11:58 am
mood: hungryhungry

It seems that I've formed a habit of wanting to move out everytime I am about to start my period.
It's usually fueled by needing to be alone, to be self sufficient, but also to be away from
everyone I know. I seem to get so tense and annoyed with my friends. I don't want to be like that.
I want to be able to care about them fully and love them fully and not feel like a shitface. I
don't want to feel like this, jealous or angry or irritated. I know it's not them that's fueling it,
I know it's my hormones. I know it's a need for self improvement. I know I can't move out, I know I probably don't really want to. I just feel this pressure to take care of everyone, and to me that
ensures an abandonment of self, not because I am being pressured to take care of anyone or even that
I feel like I'm ignoring myself, I am just that kind of person. I just find it a lot easier to make everyone else happy. And lately I've been comparing how often other people make me happy vs. how
often I try to do anything possible to make them happy. There are instances, good instances where I
was genuinely happy, but there are very very few instances when I have choosen to make myself happy.
I think this needs to change. I think I need to do more things for myself. I think I need to find
more things that I can do that make me happy. This really has nothing to do with anyone but me. I
think it's starting to sink in.

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quotes from 'The Good Body' by Eve Ensler

Mar. 23rd, 2006 | 11:54 pm
mood: tiredtired

"Maybe she could tolerate who I was if there were less of me."
-talking about her mother.

"We have to be funny. Fat girls give the best head. Don't we, Eve? We work harder to keep our men. Fat girls always swallow." Bernice, an african american teenage camper.


"My stomach is America."
-Eve

"What I can't believe is that someone like me, a radical femenist for nearly thirty years, could spend this much time thinking about my stomach. It has become my tormentor, my distractor; it's my most serious commited relationship." -Eve



"Maybe I identify with these women becuase I have bought into the idea that if my stomach were flat, then I would be good and I would be safe. I would be protected. I would be accepted, admired, important, loved. Maybe because for most of my life I have felt wrong, dirty, guilty, and bad, and my stomach is the carrier, the pouch for all that self hatred. Maybe because my stomach has become the repository for my sorrow, my childhood scars, my unfullfilled ambition, my unexpressed rage." -Eve


"Tell the image makers and magazine sellers and the plastic surgeons that you are not afraid. That what you fear the most is the death of imagination and originality and metaphor and passion. Then be bold and LOVE YOUR BODY. STOP FIXING IT. It was never broken." -Eve







Just some stuff I liked and wanted to keep.

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the only constant is change...

Mar. 22nd, 2006 | 11:06 pm

look around. enjoy right now.








nothing you will ever experience will be like this.




you will never have this again.




"Because thngs change and friends leave and life doesn't stop for anyone."
As true as it was in the middle of my teen angst.



let it go.

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