jamila

My boyfriend says the Scorpions are better and more talented than Bob Dylan.

Sometimes I forget how fun it is to listen to the Misfits, but then I remember:
"I ain't no goddamn son of a bitch!"

Why can't I help myself? I need to set my TV on fire. I turn it on, thinking "I'm going to watch a though-provoking film" but before I can even turn the DVD player on, I'm two hours into a "My Big Fat Redneck Wedding" marathon.
I'm pissing my life away on shit TV.
Commercials over, gotta go

A woman came to Ali, 'My baby has crawled out
on the roof near the water drain, where I cannot go.
He won't listen to me. I talk to him,
but he doesn't understand language.

I make gestures. I show him my breast,
but he turns away. What can I do?'

'Take another baby his age
up to the roof.'

The woman did so, and...
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In case you wanted to know:


1. I have an impossible and intense crush on Holden Caulfield.

2. The O.C. has made me cry. 4 times.

3. When I go into the bathroom, I avoid looking in the mirror for fear of a vengeful ghost, as this is always where they appear in movies.

4. One of the hardest parts of quitting smoking was not...
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Huh?

I really don't get the point of lingerie...
I have a few items in my closet, but I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with them. I just thought that it was a prerequisite to being a real woman to own lingerie.
At what point are you supposed to wear this shit? As far as I can tell, there's clothes, and then...
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Piercings?
So I am a huge pussy when it comes to pain. HUGE. I teared up when I got my nose pierced, my tattoo over my shoulder-blade made me cringe. I need to know for real: is an industrial piercing all that horrible? I was thinking of getting my upper ear pierced, and a (very drunk) friend told me that getting an industrial was "like...
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The only website (so far) to choose to publish me:
www.stevemcqueenshead.com
Yes, Steve McQueen.
If you submit something and they publish it, they'll send you a t-shirt with...you guessed it, Steve McQueen's head on it.
Check it.

Freedom

Her life began the day she saw her first suicide.

Renata studied the man in front of her, more fascinated than horrified. He looked normal, except for the belt around his neck, she thought. And the drool and swollen face. Calmly, she reached out to undo the buckle on the belt. Nice belt. Expensive. You can't be cheap with the instrument of your own...
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The Hopeless: On Working at the Detox

When I worked with these people, I was not afraid of them. I sat in my seat of limited power and controlled their hydration, meting out lukewarm water in little paper cups. I told them to shut the fuck up. I judged and felt secure, the keys to their freedom jangling against my hip, the panic button affixed...
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"There is a passion in me that doesn't long for anything from another human being."

I'll start at the beginning, if I can find it. There is no true befinnning, and I warn you, there is nothing profound about my trip from self-hatred to enlightenment. I cannot even promise that I completed the journey, for the mystics will caution it is a quest with no...
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