Sinister: newbies first post

[Dunk1erEnge1 at xxx.com]

well well well.... i woke up one morning to find that i was no longer in the 
"nursery" and so i am making my very first sinister post. Hi all.  

       introduction: name's jessica but you can call me whatever you want ( 
but don't be surprised if i don't know who the hell you are talking about)... 
definately do not call me "j-dawg" .... you know who you are. I am 19... and 
i am from Allentown, Pennsylvania. My social security number is... no... on 
the serious side of things... i don't know what to post. I don't get the time 
to read everyone's... but i try. I only have this bit of writing to 
offer..... read on if you wish ......
______________________________________________________________________
                                 "SHE"


      AND I BECOME AS TRAGIC AS THEY COME

      >IN HOLE EATING DIRT CAN'T EAT WAY OUT DIRT CAVES IN HOLE     BECOME 
DIRT FOR MOMENT<

      There have been times where hours passed slowly, like the elderly 
people on the sidewalks outside of this dingy apartment complex. There have 
also been times, where the hours just flew by so quickly, and i couldn't wish 
more that there be over twenty-four lonely hours to a day. But i hold onto 
every minute, like the cigarettes I continuously savor at night when the room 
is black, but the darkness is complimented by the citylights below my terrace.

>I AM REMINDED THAT THERE IS AN END TO EVERYTHING<

      I take my pen in hand and attempt to write more, but the lines are 
blurred, and my throat grows dry from every shot of whiskey i endure. Looking 
out at everything below me, i watch as people roam to thier seperate 
destinations... and couples kiss gentle farewells.

>I AM REMINDED OF HOW YOU'D ONCE SAID TO ME, THAT GOODBYE WOULD NOT BE FOREVER
<

      Oh how the hours seemed to go by so slow, and my tears were dried each 
night when you arrived home. And I would shout at you, claiming i did not 
want your pity..........when in essence i did. (head games) I remember the 
times you would lay in bed with me, and i only wished you would hold me as i 
pushed away. Instead you walked to the opposite side of the room, where you 
would just stare at me like there was nothing you could do.

>YOU SAID YOU WERE LETTING GO, WHEN YOU WERE IN FACT, NEVER HOLDING ONTO 
ANYTHING BUT RESENTMENTS<

      I remember, ofcourse I remember, how could one forget? Those moments 
when you were crouched between my thighs, burying yourself deep... and the 
room was spinning... and my life's battle was forgotten. Oh, but then there 
was my resistance... when i held up not just one hand, but two. Attempting to 
push you away due to weariness of pain. A pain i ended up creating on my own.

      It was inevitable.... I DID NOT want a savior, and I DID NOT want a 
lover. I wanted a friend, and my words seemed to just leak through your ears (
>in one ear out the other>)... rather than soak in your brain. And I was 
offended. 

>YOU SAID YOU WANTED TO OPEN UP YOUR HEART, BUT I ONLY WANTED YOU TO OPEN UP 
YOUR MOUTH.....TALK TO ME<

      I was offended

      How do you sleep at night now my dear? I could never imagine, for i can 
not sleep. You said, "tragic people are the most beautiful, and the mystery 
contained behind thier eyes drives me to yearn for more." But you see, I knew 
from the moment those words left your mud-filled mouth, you didn't know quite 
what it would be. You were unaware of the efforts involved.

>NEEDLE STRINGING FLESH TO SHUT, NO BREATH....CAN NOT BREATH, DO NOT CARE<

      When I sat back and waited for something to happen, I never stopped 
waiting. For even now as we are supposed to be friends, you leave my ears 
teased by fragments, a break, and an insult. Trying to be profound, but you 
make no sense to me. Maybe it was the fumes from the polyurathane, or lack of 
sleep... or even my insanity alone could be blamed... but i no longer had the 
energy to read between the lines. I grew tired of your obscure way of 
conversacion.... and so i grew tired of you.

      Yes the hours pass quickly now, and I still devour cigarettes, and 
drink tall glasses of brandy at night to help the insanities along. You ask 
how i am holding up, but you know the answer kitty cat. I am not devistated 
by the loss of you, for i lost my mind long before we met, and still have yet 
to find it. Nothing more could ever concern me until i remedy this misfortune.

>WHERE IS MY MIND?<

      I believe i mistakenly sold it with the wrest of my belongings. When I 
auctioned off my every worldly posession, my mind went for a mere fifty 
bucks. With that I purchased a beaten acoustic instrument in which i strummed 
at hopefully day after day. Sat there as onlookers and passer-byers 
generously dropped candy wrappers, broken lighters, lint, and used condoms... 
rather than money.

      I wanted to weep... not for myself... but for thier passive and numbed 
souls. I wanted to weep, not for myself, but for those who've lived within a 
poverty i was only existing in at my own will. For those who'd hoped for 
something more than the remnants of a haughty and belligerent man's clean, 
silk lined pockets. Weep for those who had not the choice to leave the corner 
at night.

      They say if you want it bad enough, you can taste freedom. That if you 
work hard enough.... you will have an establishment, shelter, and a name. If 
you are lucky, you might even have a voice. But this society, and all 
surrounding falter, and I only see that if you do not spend thousands of 
dollars to attend an institution, you are not considered an educated person. 
That if you do not attend church, you are condemned to a hell you may not 
even believe exists... and that you deserve nothing but to be silenced.  I 
only see that even those who have attended the fine institutions, and 
withstood sleepless nights with books of literature in thier naive hands... 
yes even they have trouble finding work. 

      No matter what you do, you may never escape some sort of poverty. For, 
most who have obtained a matter of "wealth and status", still lack the 
novelty of true rapture. Not everyone, but a good majority. Plenty of them 
only see in black and white.....

>WHAT GOOD IS A RED RUBY, TO SOMEONE WHO CAN NOT SEE THE LUSTER OF IT'S SHARP 
COLOR? TO ONE WHO ONLY SEES HER/HIS OWN REFLECTION PEERING BACK AT THEM?<

      I shudder to think that i should ever become one of the types to be so 
ignorant. So i fill my glass, and light another cigarette. I sit motionless, 
in the midst of tragedy. Staring through a box that seperates me from the 
despair of a remote and desolate culture... destined to collapse in it's very 
own self-adorning obsession, and self-righteous mindset.
to be continued.... *laughs*
______________________________________________________________________

well that is all i have for now... perhaps next time i will go for something 
a little more personal. or was that personal? yeah whatever.... ciao all.

jeia~*

p.s. shout out to my grrrl... "Seductive Snakebite Susie" *chuckles*

      

      
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