Thursday, March 8, 2007
And Oh, Yeah
By the way, I ended up being arrested, of course for trespassing, instead of smoking. And got kicked out of Rainbow Center. (ouch) BUT, I protested yesterday, got a sign that says "Stop Discrimination against Mentally Ill" ha hahahhahah---I'm brave, I'm standing up for a good cause and up against the "powers" that be...Life is good...so good! (and bittersweet)
Not Exactly as Planned
Monday--a day that I'll never forget. It's ironic how I had expected quite another kind of day the night before. But I'm not surprised, really.
I went to the Rainbow Center, brought some cds I had made on Friday, some old ones, brought all my lyric collection to share... was tired, hadn't slept...
Sat on the seat
tried to talk
Jason I sat next to
He creeps me out
Why do I try?
He bores me too
So mysterious
I have an inkling
he uses that to be more interesting
but just a facade
so forget it
He's not honest
Don't want anything to do with that
then Lyle comes up
Doesn't say hi
climbs up on ladder
fixes fan
I don't say hi sometimes too
But I start talking to him
then stop
oh, yeah I did say hi
but he's deaf
but doesn't say
how much does he act like he hears that he doesn't
and how much of that does he reject as unacceptable
I swore later
he heard that
he put his foot down
forget the rest
he can't hear the rest
Anyway, went outside
WTA lady comes around again
tells me I can't smoke there
I refuse to move
who does she think she is
doesn't she have better ways to spend her time
is this what homeland security money being spent on
harrassing people who are minding their own business
fuck her
what a bitch
just so she can feel better about herself
she wants to mess with the crazy girl at the rainbow center
so mean
i don't want to learn how to be more like that
anyway
she called her goons
they flanked me
they cornered me
they tried to intimidate me
because I smoked outside of a building
Discrimination:
It's discrimination when you target one group of people over another. No where else are they telling people to not smoke outside of doors. Leave the mentally ill, homeless and poor people alone, you bastards. You should be ashamed of yourselves. You disgust me. Heartless, unseeing, callous. It hurts to be picked on, it hurts to see your friends picked on by bullies. Just stop. You are worse examples to the young than people smoking cigarettes. You spread hate and intimidation. Go fuck yourselves. Go learn something. I don't know, I don't care, just stop being so obviously bigoted.
I'm obviously really angry and hurt right now. But I will retain my values, ethics, morals, ideals. I will turn this into a positive, a vehicle to make things better. I will keep my eye on dignity; my own and everyone's. Of course, I'll falter some, but I will never lose sight.
Peace
I went to the Rainbow Center, brought some cds I had made on Friday, some old ones, brought all my lyric collection to share... was tired, hadn't slept...
Sat on the seat
tried to talk
Jason I sat next to
He creeps me out
Why do I try?
He bores me too
So mysterious
I have an inkling
he uses that to be more interesting
but just a facade
so forget it
He's not honest
Don't want anything to do with that
then Lyle comes up
Doesn't say hi
climbs up on ladder
fixes fan
I don't say hi sometimes too
But I start talking to him
then stop
oh, yeah I did say hi
but he's deaf
but doesn't say
how much does he act like he hears that he doesn't
and how much of that does he reject as unacceptable
I swore later
he heard that
he put his foot down
forget the rest
he can't hear the rest
Anyway, went outside
WTA lady comes around again
tells me I can't smoke there
I refuse to move
who does she think she is
doesn't she have better ways to spend her time
is this what homeland security money being spent on
harrassing people who are minding their own business
fuck her
what a bitch
just so she can feel better about herself
she wants to mess with the crazy girl at the rainbow center
so mean
i don't want to learn how to be more like that
anyway
she called her goons
they flanked me
they cornered me
they tried to intimidate me
because I smoked outside of a building
Discrimination:
It's discrimination when you target one group of people over another. No where else are they telling people to not smoke outside of doors. Leave the mentally ill, homeless and poor people alone, you bastards. You should be ashamed of yourselves. You disgust me. Heartless, unseeing, callous. It hurts to be picked on, it hurts to see your friends picked on by bullies. Just stop. You are worse examples to the young than people smoking cigarettes. You spread hate and intimidation. Go fuck yourselves. Go learn something. I don't know, I don't care, just stop being so obviously bigoted.
I'm obviously really angry and hurt right now. But I will retain my values, ethics, morals, ideals. I will turn this into a positive, a vehicle to make things better. I will keep my eye on dignity; my own and everyone's. Of course, I'll falter some, but I will never lose sight.
Peace
Monday, March 5, 2007
Seth, I'm Sorry
It must hurt to see me suffer
You feel so out of control
The way I bitch and moan
So in the public eye
I'm sorry for the past
The things I've said
I'm sorry for the things I'll say
The future glaring ahead
Forgive me for being me
I like to voice the pain
That's where I find the beauty
And share it
I have to share it
And I have to show how I found it
I have to
So to all you that may read this
And think Seth did something wrong
He's stuck by me 8 1/2 years
That's love that lasted that long
You feel so out of control
The way I bitch and moan
So in the public eye
I'm sorry for the past
The things I've said
I'm sorry for the things I'll say
The future glaring ahead
Forgive me for being me
I like to voice the pain
That's where I find the beauty
And share it
I have to share it
And I have to show how I found it
I have to
So to all you that may read this
And think Seth did something wrong
He's stuck by me 8 1/2 years
That's love that lasted that long
The start of my book: Transcribed Por Vous (whoever you may be)
Here it is:
Prologue
"I'm goint to sit down, and I'm going to do this. Slow and fast, over and over I'll write the letters down and make sense out of my life.
Tomorrow I'll be at the Rainbow Center. It's not as happy as it sounds. It's dank, depressing and filled with restless, outcast spirits; tortured souls. But they belong here--they make themselves belong. They're not here. They arrived and have the kindness to make the fringes feel useful.
I'm a fringe, though, too. And I'm being useful as well. I'm to transpose these people onto to paper--give them the dignity they deserve. I'll have to betray them along the way--be true to myself, as Ziggy Marley would say. It won't be entirely of them--let's get that clear right now-- a lot will be of me. How else could it be? The people that have walked in and out of my life--and on the outskirts, too.
I'll have to be selfish, and I'm sorry. Mine is a small world, as is all of ours--we see eachother through our own lenses. We see eachother through the context of ourselves. It can't be any other way.
My family will loom large in these pictures--and the anger and pain and loyalty and love will loom, too. It's all one with them.
How to start? Mybe never--maybe I'll never wake again to a day--a tomorrow--where I'll sit in the back room, belonging to the unbelonging...
Maybe I'll never sleep in order to wake. It's 2am or therabouts, after all... and then I'll be re-initiated into the world of the unbelonged.
Have I left?
0 0 0
See, I'm what you'd call "bipolar". Ugly word, ugly meaning, ugly life. If you look it up, it's a riot (if it doesn't explain you). Manic-depression--delusions of grandeur, flights of fancy, unpredictable behavior, uncontrollable mood. Sounds like a bird at first--soaring, soaring, explorring--until it crashes into a building going 80 miles an hours and falls bloody and wounded, pathetic, unmoving 100 stories down on the pavement, being walked on, gawked at and abhored. Ah! The joy of it! (Sike).
Strange, strange to be one of these creatures. One minute flying to uncharted territory--and then being put on the rack for it--and that's before you're really strapped down. All in your head--your strange, strange head. And you pay for that ecstasy--you pay twice--once to yourself--your depression--then again in the "hospital". Not at all "hospitable". Well, maybe the spit in the word is right. "A" for effort goes to the world. Yea, for it.
Can you sense the hosility yet? I can. And that's part of why I'm writing this book. I got to get to the nitty-gritty. (Before it gets to me). What's bothering me? Besides my parents' tragic death, my brother's unsolved demise, my second "mother"'s influence, blah, blah, blah... See, why even bother telling you a hint now? You already should have known. My whole life was screaming it at you, big bad world!
First, you need some context. And where to start, other than the here-and-now? Here's a tid-bit--a scene--a setting:
Bellingham, Washington, USA. (Corner left of the map of the world--ha!) Apartment, ground floor--3 bedrooms. I'm in the livingroom--at a computer desk--writing on computer paper (the actual computer is turned off.) Left--a door to a bedroom alsmost bare, except for 4 animals-- 2 rabbits, a bird and a rat. All in stacked cages, except the bird gets to roam free (kinda sorta, her wings were clipped...and no, fucker, I didn't do it). Before you jump to conclusions, let me be clear--all of them get to be out of their cages during the day, to run around the house, as they so chose. So there.
To my left, around two corners--through the kitchen, past the bathroom, through the hall--door ahead, my son's. Age 11. But not there. He's at his dad's, where he usually is, aside from school. (How come the school didn't have to go to court, too?). His room remains unused and empty 5 days out of 7. Directly to the left of his door--our bedroom. My boyfriend's and mine. He's in there, lying alone on a soft mattress, trying to get some sleep. And he is probably sleeping, but whether it's restful or not, I've no idea.
Time for a cigarette. I can tell the truth is rustling under the covers, dying to get out, and it's making me nervous. What have I agreed to do?
0 0 0
How do you end up crazy? If this book does anything at all useful, if you can see past the obvious self-absorption of it all--maybe it will teach a few people how to avoid the pitfall of being dehumanized, catorgorized and condescended to by a litany of well-meaning professionals who got their start by relieving the boredom of their own lives by picking apart the psyches of "others." --I truly believe that. That mental health practioners were so entralled by their own thinking being akin to others--but got lost in the world of separation. Does that make any sense? Somewhere in there I know the sense is glaring. Somewhere, somewhere.
Or maybe I'm taling about myself. Couldn't I be classified as a "mental health professional"--oh, wait--oh, yeah, (I'm sure they'll remind me) I'm a mental illness professional. Not at all similar. Is it? Hmmm... It takes two to tango comes to mind...
0 0 0
Another tragedy in the life of Ann. I was just having fun in the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror, ignoring the fat arms & grotesque belly--instead, moving, dancing, inspecting my clear forehead, my bright eyes, my pretty (though feigned grin) when I turned, and saw...birdshit. Thanks, Sesame. You're a doll.
0 0 0
Chapter One
"When anyone dies, we're all implicated."
Ann E. Merchant
March 5, 2006
3:44 am
I'm going to transcribe this onto my blog...along with this paragraph I'm writing now. And to all you dabbling in the sordid world of plagairism--well--I got the original! Muuwaahhh!
Prologue
"I'm goint to sit down, and I'm going to do this. Slow and fast, over and over I'll write the letters down and make sense out of my life.
Tomorrow I'll be at the Rainbow Center. It's not as happy as it sounds. It's dank, depressing and filled with restless, outcast spirits; tortured souls. But they belong here--they make themselves belong. They're not here. They arrived and have the kindness to make the fringes feel useful.
I'm a fringe, though, too. And I'm being useful as well. I'm to transpose these people onto to paper--give them the dignity they deserve. I'll have to betray them along the way--be true to myself, as Ziggy Marley would say. It won't be entirely of them--let's get that clear right now-- a lot will be of me. How else could it be? The people that have walked in and out of my life--and on the outskirts, too.
I'll have to be selfish, and I'm sorry. Mine is a small world, as is all of ours--we see eachother through our own lenses. We see eachother through the context of ourselves. It can't be any other way.
My family will loom large in these pictures--and the anger and pain and loyalty and love will loom, too. It's all one with them.
How to start? Mybe never--maybe I'll never wake again to a day--a tomorrow--where I'll sit in the back room, belonging to the unbelonging...
Maybe I'll never sleep in order to wake. It's 2am or therabouts, after all... and then I'll be re-initiated into the world of the unbelonged.
Have I left?
0 0 0
See, I'm what you'd call "bipolar". Ugly word, ugly meaning, ugly life. If you look it up, it's a riot (if it doesn't explain you). Manic-depression--delusions of grandeur, flights of fancy, unpredictable behavior, uncontrollable mood. Sounds like a bird at first--soaring, soaring, explorring--until it crashes into a building going 80 miles an hours and falls bloody and wounded, pathetic, unmoving 100 stories down on the pavement, being walked on, gawked at and abhored. Ah! The joy of it! (Sike).
Strange, strange to be one of these creatures. One minute flying to uncharted territory--and then being put on the rack for it--and that's before you're really strapped down. All in your head--your strange, strange head. And you pay for that ecstasy--you pay twice--once to yourself--your depression--then again in the "hospital". Not at all "hospitable". Well, maybe the spit in the word is right. "A" for effort goes to the world. Yea, for it.
Can you sense the hosility yet? I can. And that's part of why I'm writing this book. I got to get to the nitty-gritty. (Before it gets to me). What's bothering me? Besides my parents' tragic death, my brother's unsolved demise, my second "mother"'s influence, blah, blah, blah... See, why even bother telling you a hint now? You already should have known. My whole life was screaming it at you, big bad world!
First, you need some context. And where to start, other than the here-and-now? Here's a tid-bit--a scene--a setting:
Bellingham, Washington, USA. (Corner left of the map of the world--ha!) Apartment, ground floor--3 bedrooms. I'm in the livingroom--at a computer desk--writing on computer paper (the actual computer is turned off.) Left--a door to a bedroom alsmost bare, except for 4 animals-- 2 rabbits, a bird and a rat. All in stacked cages, except the bird gets to roam free (kinda sorta, her wings were clipped...and no, fucker, I didn't do it). Before you jump to conclusions, let me be clear--all of them get to be out of their cages during the day, to run around the house, as they so chose. So there.
To my left, around two corners--through the kitchen, past the bathroom, through the hall--door ahead, my son's. Age 11. But not there. He's at his dad's, where he usually is, aside from school. (How come the school didn't have to go to court, too?). His room remains unused and empty 5 days out of 7. Directly to the left of his door--our bedroom. My boyfriend's and mine. He's in there, lying alone on a soft mattress, trying to get some sleep. And he is probably sleeping, but whether it's restful or not, I've no idea.
Time for a cigarette. I can tell the truth is rustling under the covers, dying to get out, and it's making me nervous. What have I agreed to do?
0 0 0
How do you end up crazy? If this book does anything at all useful, if you can see past the obvious self-absorption of it all--maybe it will teach a few people how to avoid the pitfall of being dehumanized, catorgorized and condescended to by a litany of well-meaning professionals who got their start by relieving the boredom of their own lives by picking apart the psyches of "others." --I truly believe that. That mental health practioners were so entralled by their own thinking being akin to others--but got lost in the world of separation. Does that make any sense? Somewhere in there I know the sense is glaring. Somewhere, somewhere.
Or maybe I'm taling about myself. Couldn't I be classified as a "mental health professional"--oh, wait--oh, yeah, (I'm sure they'll remind me) I'm a mental illness professional. Not at all similar. Is it? Hmmm... It takes two to tango comes to mind...
0 0 0
Another tragedy in the life of Ann. I was just having fun in the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror, ignoring the fat arms & grotesque belly--instead, moving, dancing, inspecting my clear forehead, my bright eyes, my pretty (though feigned grin) when I turned, and saw...birdshit. Thanks, Sesame. You're a doll.
0 0 0
Chapter One
"When anyone dies, we're all implicated."
Ann E. Merchant
March 5, 2006
3:44 am
I'm going to transcribe this onto my blog...along with this paragraph I'm writing now. And to all you dabbling in the sordid world of plagairism--well--I got the original! Muuwaahhh!
Monday, February 26, 2007
watch a dream move through the pipes
It's all a pipe-dream now. and how? you say, I'll tell.....
It sucks it sucks, this life of us...it sucks, I know to say....
Life sucks it sucks, we never fuck....it sucks our dreams away
You say stay still, never fear...becuase you're dreams are the worst that could happen.
Thanks a lot, Europe lost, and the adventure we could've had
Is a nightmare in a fantasy of make-believe care
Thank you, thank you, please come again
It sucks it sucks, this life of us...it sucks, I know to say....
Life sucks it sucks, we never fuck....it sucks our dreams away
You say stay still, never fear...becuase you're dreams are the worst that could happen.
Thanks a lot, Europe lost, and the adventure we could've had
Is a nightmare in a fantasy of make-believe care
Thank you, thank you, please come again
We're all little stars
In kindergarten they teach us
to never see the bad
We live each day after
wishing the truth had been said
We all are utter losers
Once we lose our youth
It starts about 13
and then we change the rules
but the rules don't really change
they cheated along
no fairness in this life
how to go on?
I once was small and gentle
cute and amusing too
And so were you who reads this
But it's all gone through
We've become our parents
strict, boring and lost
we've become the monsters
that lurked in our own closets
We kill and lie and suffer
a horrible stinking life
you think not, well think again
sorry, to flunk
a kindergarten drop out
that would've been enough for me
I'd still have those lies
unbeaten out of me
to never see the bad
We live each day after
wishing the truth had been said
We all are utter losers
Once we lose our youth
It starts about 13
and then we change the rules
but the rules don't really change
they cheated along
no fairness in this life
how to go on?
I once was small and gentle
cute and amusing too
And so were you who reads this
But it's all gone through
We've become our parents
strict, boring and lost
we've become the monsters
that lurked in our own closets
We kill and lie and suffer
a horrible stinking life
you think not, well think again
sorry, to flunk
a kindergarten drop out
that would've been enough for me
I'd still have those lies
unbeaten out of me
Social Criticism pt. 5,015
Too bad it's not enough
the lines got too rough
to sneeze at
The teasing at the well
Jesus won't ever tell
Why they let it go so long
And community's a bust
When all we do we must
not foget all others left behind
So gather your goodbyes
And try to cry
I'll tell no secrets this time
Why must we waste
all the beauty and grace
In small circle
that never reach far
I'll give it all up
I'll wipe my butt
on memories from past pretenses
Funny, so you say
And laugh the tone away
It's dark, but badly done
Ha ha so hilarious
I'm acting rather precarious
But fuck it all, it never works out anyway
I could be wrong
But if so, I'm not strong
I'm weak, you should pity me then
So it's back in your court
Don't forget your fork
eat properly, but don't eat much
If you do, you'll see
that we loved you fakily
and the world can't look in the mirror
Mirrors are for truth
and the world's a ruse
so dash it all, and blame me
This is now the end
I've acted like a friend
but friends don't give up
the lines got too rough
to sneeze at
The teasing at the well
Jesus won't ever tell
Why they let it go so long
And community's a bust
When all we do we must
not foget all others left behind
So gather your goodbyes
And try to cry
I'll tell no secrets this time
Why must we waste
all the beauty and grace
In small circle
that never reach far
I'll give it all up
I'll wipe my butt
on memories from past pretenses
Funny, so you say
And laugh the tone away
It's dark, but badly done
Ha ha so hilarious
I'm acting rather precarious
But fuck it all, it never works out anyway
I could be wrong
But if so, I'm not strong
I'm weak, you should pity me then
So it's back in your court
Don't forget your fork
eat properly, but don't eat much
If you do, you'll see
that we loved you fakily
and the world can't look in the mirror
Mirrors are for truth
and the world's a ruse
so dash it all, and blame me
This is now the end
I've acted like a friend
but friends don't give up
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