(...)

“What, you ignoring me now?”

(...)

“I know you can hear me.”

Please go away.

“Come on, Kelly. Just checking in.”

Don’t talk to me.

“Come on, little girl. Did I do something wrong?”

I don’t want you here.

”But, I’m here.”

(...)

“How you feeling?”

(...)

“Hey.”

I don’t want to talk to you.

“I’m just asking. I mean, you don’t look so good.”

It’s none of your business.

“Sure, sure. Just because, if there’s anything I can do to help …”

(...)

“Stomach?”

What?

“Just saying. You’ve got that look, like you’re thinking about your stomach.”

I’m fine.

“Uh-huh. Kelly, I know that look.”

Don’t say my name.

“So, it’s come to this?”

(...)

“Kelly …”

Shut up.

“I’m just checking up on my girl.”

I hate you.

“No, you don’t.”

(...)

“You miss me?”

Go away. You can’t make me talk to you.

“’Course not.”

You don’t own me.

“’Course not. But, you miss me?”

I don’t need you. I don’t want you here.

“That wasn’t the question.”

(...)

Sometimes … Sometimes I feel so alone in this, I think it might kill me.

(...)

Damn.

(...)

“Was that so hard?”

Shut up. It won’t kill me.

“It might.”

It won’t.

“It might.”

Shut up.

“Your words, babe. Not mine.”

(...)

“You know what might help?”

Go away.

“Just saying. You DO know what would help, right?”

Please. I just want to get off the bus, get on the train, and go home.

“Sure, sure. I’m just saying. If you’re still thinking about it when you get home, it might make you feel better.”

No, it won’t.

“Maybe it won’t. How you feel now?”

Shitty. Trapped.

“How will you feel if you do it?”

Shitty.

”Shitty either way.”

Yeah.

“You know you can take action. You know you’ll feel cleaner. You stay like this, you’ll feel shitty AND fat.”

(...)

I guess that’s true.

“I don’t know. It’s up to you. Your wager.”

But, it won’t make any difference in the long run.

“Then, what’s the harm?”

I can’t.

“You know you can.”

(...)

If I do it, will you go away?

(...)

“Something like that.”

You’re alone in a passenger train, a reckless automotive you’ve ridden for so long that you no longer notice how poorly it’s being driven. The danger doesn’t faze you. Eventually, the car carrying you becomes detached, and speeds away from it’s intended destination. You look out the window as the car races alone on it’s crazy path. There’s nothing to do but watch the changing vista.

The car flies on it’s independent track, plummeting into valleys and gaining enough momentum to edge up the next hill, then down into the valley, and so on. You don’t mind that, you can see the changes coming.

The car hits an unforeseen and unforeseeable bump and is completely derailed. You are thrown. When you land, you don’t know what happened. You are humbled and hurting. You know that if you had held on tighter, just ridden it out, you wouldn’t have fallen.

You sit on the grass by the car’s remains, and pause to make sure you’re still in one piece.

(...)

“Feel better?”

No.

“No?”

No. It doesn’t work anymore.

(...)

I never want to see you again.

“Sure, honey. Sure you don’t.”

I don’t. Ever. Fuck off.

“Don’t get pissy with me, bitch. Wasn’t my idea.”

Very Socratic, you fucking Iago.

“Big words, little girl. Very scary.”

I hate you.

"No, you don't."

(...)

“Ha. Thanks for a good time.”

(...)

“You look like shit.”

Please just go.

Wierd night last night. I'm OK. I’m sorry.

Read this poem. "Strength is not in her,but she enacts it as the wind fills a sail." I love that. Then, after you've read it, go break stuff for me, maybe.

~ Last Five Entries ~

Moths, and Relative Nonsense - 08.18.05

I Finally Have Internet Access in my Bedroom. But, No Ashtray. - 08.09.05

Here I Am - 08.02.05

One-Armed Paper Hanger Earns her Wings - 07.29.05

Sugar & Lemon - 07.28.05

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BUY JEN'S BOOK! BUY IT! DO IT!

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BUY DEAN'S BOOK, TOO! YOU KNOW YOU WANNA! SERIOUSLY.

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