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Below are the 13 most recent journal entries recorded in pastelsandblood's LiveJournal:

Sunday, August 22nd, 2004
11:45 pm
lack_thereof
add this lj: alligatorpaws

i kind of resumed my old one and left this behind...i may or may not return to it.

my new screenname is doomedsince1986

(jessica)
Tuesday, August 17th, 2004
3:45 pm
blahblahblah
well its tuesday now
but i havent been writing in this motherfucker
sunday night was 82 as usual. adam ryan abe came over and we drank vodka in my room and got ready. then i illegally bought more alchohol from this store near the club because they sell to underage girls. met up with ashley there...hung out with mario, vivi, ryan, this girl sarah that seemed sweet, abe, ashely, nancy, etc....ciara and dani were on absinthe hahahahahah it was so aweosme. they were really calm but looked like they were totally tripping out. it was kinda shitty because they were strict about letting people in but luckily we mentioned that we knew keith ahahhahaha yeah nm lol that was awesome. um yeeah whatelse...i was super drunk...i remember being offered various drugs (by who? i have no idea) and i turned them down. i remember dragging everyone into the bathroom as usual. i remember not SMOKING ONE SINGLE CIGARETTE! yay for me. after the club me and ryan somehow climbed on to this abandoned house and i seriously think that we would have died if we werent fucked up and completely chill about it. we went back to my house and stuff and had a sleepover party and they kept bugging me about brownies and denyys but i dont remmeber any of that! in the morning we went to dennys and it was really suspicious...the waittress hated abe, the cheese sticks had no cheese, the hashbrowns were ham infested and one of the onion rings had A BLACK CURLY HAIR ON IT. ew we so did not pay for that. after that we talked about how we were going to go to disney land in the guise of a group of blind/retarded kids.so we could go on the rides first..but alas it never happened. instead i went shopping for toiletries and got lunch from whole foods. good news: i slept for 4 hours last night..from like 5 to 9. it was nice. tonight theres a free rilo show at amoeba...maybe ghost hunting after...i really really want to go to gregs house but SOMEONE SHOULD GIVE ME A RIDE TO SAN DIEGO BECAUSE YOU LOVE ME so i can hang out with him before i leave on friday. leaving la is breaking my heart. if you didnt know...im moving to san fransisco for the school year....ill be back on most weekends. things im looking forward to about it:
being able to stay u all night writing without any guilt (induced by my parents)
taking this one class...lovers of wisdom
oh and music theory of course
getting a piercing and a little vespa (because my parents would not approve if i were living in their house)
there are only a few piercings that i like....yeayeayea
taking dance classes and free yoga
i like my roomie also. a lot. we will get along for sure.
BUT
IM GOING TO MISS EVERYONE SO MUCH
SO SO SO SO SO MUCH THAT I DONT KNOW IF I CAN HANDLE IT
ive never been made to feel so welcome anywhere in my life, or at any previous point in my life. ive never felt fucking cared about before...im planning on transfering back next year and getting a place in the valley/los feliz/silverlake/downtown/hollywood with friends. perhaps going to lmu or ucla or pepperdine, usc...etc.
ummm ive been wanting to watch reality bites and freaks and geeks with someone..oh yeah and the craft. so that needs to happen like very very soon.
:(
and if you want to see what the bleep with me give me a ring
3105692701
<3
Saturday, August 14th, 2004
8:42 pm
fdsfd
LAYER ONE
-- name: Jessica
-- current location: bedroom
-- eye color: blue/green
-- hair color: black but naturally its blonde...
-- height: 5'6/7
-- righty or lefty: right

LAYER TWO
-- your heritage: euro-mutt
-- the shoes you wore today: vans
-- your weakness: low self-esteem
-- your fears: trusting people, elevators, trucks (dont ask), airplanes, getting sick again....
-- your perfect pizza: almond crust, vegan mozzarella/provolone with artechokes, mushrooms, tomato sauce...
-- goal you'd like to achieve: satisfaction=death, so i guess satisfaction.

LAYER THREE
-- your most overused phrase on AIM: lsdkfaldfk!
-- your first thoughts waking up: im still alive??
-- your best physical feature: eyes
-- your bedtime: i have trouble sleeping...
-- your most missed memory: feeling like my life was just beginning.

LAYER FOUR
-- pepsi or coke: neither. fuck that.
-- mcdonald's or burger king: sick
-- single or group dates:single
-- adidas or nike: neither
-- lipton ice tea or nestea: ew
-- chocolate or vanilla: chocolate
-- cappuccino or coffee: neither

LAYER FIVE
-- smoke: pass
-- cuss: incessantly..uhm not really
-- sing: everyday
-- take a shower everyday: lol
-- have a crush(es): a few
-- do you think you've been in love : maybe once.
-- do you want go to go to college: im going
-- want to get married: married...that term means nothing to me.
-- believe in yourself: absolutely
-- get motion sickness : nah
-- think you're attractive: im fucking wierd looking
-- think you're a health freak:others might say that...but no.
-- get along with your parents: no
-- like thunderstorms: yes
-- play an instrument: piano, a little bass

LAYER SIX: in the past month...
-- drank alcohol: too much
-- smoked: eh
-- done a drug: hmm
-- had sex: LOL i didnt know this survey was going to have these types of questions on there
-- gone on a date: depends on what you call a date..
-- gone to the mall?: yes
-- eaten an entire box of Oreos: that is gross
-- eaten sushi: nah
-- been on stage: YES of course!!!!
-- been dumped: sort of.
-- gone skating: no!
-- made home made cookies: no
-- gone skinny dipping: sounds cold
-- dyed your hair:today
-- stolen anything: lol yesterday i stole a tangerine juice from vons...i have no clue why.

LAYER SEVEN: ever..
-- played a game that required removal of clothing: yes
-- been trashed or extremely intoxicated: YES
-- been caught "doing something": i guess
-- been called a tease: often..
-- gotten beaten up: not that i recall
-- shoplifted: vons
-- changed who you were to fit in: nah thats what alchohol is for

LAYER EIGHT
-- age you hope to be married: whatever
-- numbers and names of children: no clue
-- describe your dream wedding: no clue
-- how do you want to die: mass suicidide
-- what do you want to be when you grow up: someone extremely influential
-- what country would you most like to visit: whereever has the most sunlight, i want to go somewhere hot as hell.
LAYER NINE: in a significant other..
-- best eye color: doesnt matter
-- best hair color: i prefer dark...but again...it doesnt really matter.
-- short or long hair: either/or
-- height: at least 5'5...an inch shorter than me...to like 6 feet i guess...actually fuck this. it doesnt matter...just as long as its relatively normal
-- best weight : thin...or whatever..just not fat
-- best articles of clothing: sweaters
-- best first date location: somewhere either extremely intimate or extremely crowded and loud..
-- best first kiss location: somewhere private
LAYER TEN
-- number of drugs taken illegally: dont know...a few.
-- number of people i could trust with my life: one
-- number of cds that i own: lots
-- number of piercings: 0
-- number of tattoos: 0
-- number of times my name has appeared in the newspaper: several
-- number of scars on my body: too many
-- number of things in my past that i regret: too complicated..
7:20 pm
beat
last night
ryans house with ashley and justin
forgot to not take my meds so like 5 shots of vodka=the spins :(
but it was still fun because we wactched movies and stuff except sloth from the goonies...for some reason that SERIOUSLY disturbed me....
but for real
those kids are awesome <333

tonight
hang outs with friends tonight
recover from chronic hangover

tommorow
ashely and abe hangouttt before 82 yeeeahh

i dont want to move....its making me so fucking sad :(
Thursday, August 12th, 2004
11:37 pm
eat your cake
this week i: went ghost hunting all night with erik, lizette, hector, andre, matt....had a sleepoever with mai and walked around town most of last night...midnight visit to ralphs for anything chocolate related...jazz music in the morning...
tommorow will be a lot of fun i think
Wednesday, August 11th, 2004
5:31 pm
dont pay any attention to this for your own good
existentialism (hope for the dreamers)
that concept is like testing (testing? your not a doctor!) the effects of a chemical on yourself (why would you do that if your not a drug addict??)
you swallow (life), and co-habit a body you can still call your own (but not for long, hehe!).
then the effects kick in (forgive me, father), you record the data. (for i have sinned)
"sober" me (sliding doors). "altered" me (sliding doors?)
but in an altered state of concsiousness, how can you be sure that your former presence that entered the "endevour" (keep on pretending that words are agents of justification) is still overbearing?What if your'e not sure? (are you this indecisive in the workplace?) worse yet, what if you are unaware of any change in character that has occured?(what..did you black out, slut?)
our pixels are linear (huh?)
strings (hahahahahahhaha)
letters of the alphabet (names, numbers, addresses...mothers first reaction is to count the fingers and toes)
but humanity is grit, we are not made to harmonize
"sometimes......"
its like writing in a journal (often, people just sign their names and disappear)
the me that was me that was me that was me is just a chain of adenine and guanine and the other two whatever they are's (nucleotides, stupid.)
always a code for the you that inhabits houses (archetecture confines) and visits supermarkets (so we reload in time intervals) and parks ( family units) and beaches (salt water soothes the throat) and museums in afternoons (for when you cant scream too loud)
. but never a language that you can learn and apply (its not cost efficient....(don't you want public education?)
a single cannot procreate (replicate)
so basically its like sliding doors (and im still angry because i know that the father to my candy colored oderless/tasteless life thats slipping between the cracks in my therapists sofa is HUMANISTIC psychology)
where one side got lifted up a little bit and shifted over a few inches (mother's to blame, i guess.)
you get that uncomfortable feeling of confrontation without the satisfaction of being face to face (you always miss yourself, dont you?)
shadow up against shapeshifter-reflection (and your a protoplasmic kiss)
no, shut up!!!! your heart just doesnt want to accept your bodys certainty (your (soul's) the synaptic gap)
Monday, August 9th, 2004
11:10 pm
wont
excuse me while i get
completely trashed
ive broken my ties
and crossed concepts off my wish list
im applicable and its irrepairable
im explicit
but not implicit
wash me out of your mouth
then throw me around some more
im contained
inside of conversations
novelties like beach balls in crowded stadiums
im just a dirty word
im not a processed significance
but i cannot self destruct
(memes fade away and disappear)
my soul exists on every coordinate point along the rounds of a clock
two hands in motion like needles to a solar plexus
trauma to sensitivity, but this illness is not acute
its chronic and hereditary
and im adopted
wipe me off the corners of your mouth
i dont belong
so just let me be
break my heart
ill be in every corner, making sure you never get stuck in one.
Saturday, August 7th, 2004
3:12 pm
goodnight
http://www.fthevote.com/

www.ratemytranny.com

tonight im having a sleepover party.
i think that while everyone else takes pictures of themselves and points out non existing flaws so they can get more compliments to feed their empty souls, i am going to get very drunk and write and write and write. repetition is worth while...with the speed of life progressing at its current rate sometimes you need to mindlessly repeat until something really important is engrained in your brain, make those neural connections, kids.


story time:
a few days ago...i was walking down martel, to melrose. hollywood is where my heart is. its a little storybook land. with shadows and witch women walking their hybrid wolf dogs- so out of place like features resculped by a surgeons knife on the previously untainted canvas of a face.....like puzzle pieces scattered in the wind.....misfits sticking together in bubbles of storms, tar and feathers, accidently pairing up and piling on the powder to cover it all up. the ridiculousness of everything. homeless people sleeping on the street. all day. THEY SLEEP ALL DAY. home-less. without money you are immobile. shouldnt seeing someone sleeping on a busy street midday be just as big a suprise as seeing a dragon flying across the fucking sky? no...immobility makes you disapear. get this. money does not buy happiness..hahaha of course, thats a completely silly notion. but money buys TIME......its pretty simple if you just think about it. an item of luxury is worth a certain amount of money...it takes a certain amount of time to make it, you are willing to put out a certain amount of time to work to make the money to pay for the item...etc. so the way i see money is basically an applicable measurement of time created to capitalize on peoples differences. once upon a time there was this big bubble, and it was made of little pixels, little particles. the air was clean and everyone could breath. language was smooth and it rolled along tongues and bounced over lips and sung to trees and stroked sweaty hair back from shaking bodies when necessary. it was used in a non threatening way. god was in nature. something began to change...for the worse...slowly...and then time sped up...somgthing was changing for the worse exponentially. brains went numb with capsules that looked like candy, communication started shutting down out side of the workplace. factories guarded the skyline and singing could no longer permeate the sound walls set up by groups of soul stealers who had taken advantage of the anarcho system previously responsible for sharing of time pixels and energy particles. language halted. brains continued to grow, to match the exponentially growing universe, the exploding chaos that no longer looked like an opening rose bud but more like a once treasured, antique home doused with gasoline and lit with a single match. millions of voices hummed marches in minor keys and chanted from thousands of dark corners "destruction is creation" "destruction is creation". everything was getting faster and smaller and more obscure. children were multiplying and organs and parts were getting misdistributed. disease was abound. there were just too many things to take care of. the universe was slowly creating another dimension inside of a tunnel that looked like an underground london subway with every thing sublimnal in the form of beautiful swirling psychedlic murals coating its walls. this is still going on, preperation in the background and in the foreground: levitating spirals of DNA, historical events with similarity but not symmetry making track marks along glowing helixes. we are coming to the tip of things. battles make rivers that flood market places and eye sockets and bathtubs with shimmering army wives resting below the face of the water: a meeting point. and the money keeps piling in, because people are restless, and god is getting sucked out of the water from high tech vacuums. well, brains continue to grow, but language has long since halted. homeostasis has become foreign to internal and external systems. symbiosis is dead, dictators have made parasitic relationships mandatory and anyone caught trying to balance both sides of the equation is labeled as clinically messed-up-in-the-head. "WHAT equation?" they say, and LAUGH and laugh and laugh while razors pile up inside your dresser and dreams of hooks catching wrists in water haunt your resting mind. mothers stroking raised scars. nightmares of validation. everyone hates how their appearance. noone knows what they look like to the rest of the world. language has become an exchange of cliches. language has become capitalism. supply and demand. suck it up, little girl. crying is illegal. crying is illegal. crying is illegal. repetition is for retards.there are no such thing as nightmares anymore. they are classified as dreams. sometimes getting fucked up and selling your soul for a glimpse of a blurred reflection vomiting in a bathroom stall can be passed off as a dream too. sometimes. sickness has been stemming from an inablity to voice exponentiallly growing emotions becausee of nonexistant letters of the alphabet. existential transactions appear to occur in cool offices (for some reason its always twilight and theres always dust on the ledge of the window next to the sofa). but the doctor doesnt really want to be there and the patient doesnt really want to talk to the doctor...they just fish around in a stale pool of tank water that hasnt been changed in ages..oh...ages..fish around for different combinations and they break apart cliches which become puzzle pieces which get paired up and stuck together tar and feathers like mismatched features resculpted and plastered on a previously innocent human face. broken souls. psychiatric diseases of intelligence. cant you see? when it comes back to a primal scream, its a sign that language can no longer transcend cognition. so on comes the medication. it boosts self esteem. no, it numbs it. movements become free-er for designated periods of time. people meet on weekends to self medicate and look in mirrors and cry together. but hangovers wear off, and those sharp pains come back. like the one behind my ear, closest to my left occipital lobe. my eye blurs when it happens. i worry that i have a slowly growing brain tumor. soon it will be growing exponentially. tears come to my eyes when i look out the window at the jacarandas, the news induces no type of emotional reaction. ive already seen headless dan at countless friends houses when i was in highschool. im seventeen. i have very few memories.
Friday, August 6th, 2004
9:27 pm
i can die alone (not this one, the one BEFORE it)
i have been craving sunshine or a KNIFE
beauty is the barrier inbetween a reflection of a face and a reflection of reflection- looking glass and looking glass staring inside the looking glass, staring implies obsession, looking implies curiosity....there should be a word for the feeling of being DOOMED. language was formed out of the desire to get drunk and forget. fuck you all. fuck my love for you despite my ugliness and despite my selfishness and despite your lack of honesty and sincerity and caring. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. every night my father comes into my room and pulls down the blinds and says "you really shouldnt leave that open kiddo, people can see right in" nevermind that the fact that the window in my room faces a dark, plant covered driveway. if someone is staring in, they are probablly going to break in and what the fuck does it matter if they see my closed closet door and hat stand before smashing through the looking glass and putting the lights out of looking glass and looking glass, tired and disabled, enabling me to type this drawn out piece of bullshit. do you understand my tired soul? go read nietzche retard. and then come back to me pretending that you got it the first time. i read that shit three times before i get it, ok? IT DOESNT COME THAT EASY TO ANYONE *tears streaming down my face* *swallows* *swallows a tablespoon of liquid codeine*
NUMB
is that what you really want to be?
a) thats right, sunshine
b) give me my vitamin D back!
c) ive fallen and i cant get up
d) i dont get it....
hahahahahahahhahahahahahahahaahhaah
4:27 pm
everything that breaths came before you
LISTEN, HEAR/HERE: (ive come to this conculsion)
people are prisoners
low self esteem is the absence of emotional attachment to any part of your body
hollowness
you can only tell someone they are beautiful at the right time of day, the right hour of light hitting your face and casting its shadows on your flaws
yes, the ones that you tell yourself your just imagining
WELL, YOU AREN'T. they are there, they are real and they are just as ugly as you always knew they were.

DON'T EVADE
thats reality, honey. in this world we dont paint paintings. we dont live them. we watch them.
evasion is just the time spent painting the picture.
symbolism, metaphors, things in terms of other things. YES i have said that many times. AND i will write it and speak it everyday until it feels ancient...it already is....but not on my tongue and not in the backwoods of the human brains circulating the stale air of this town (opaque air, thick air). that concept has been abandoned it think. a particle claimed and abandoned, a type of transaction that leaves no foot prints in the sand. if you forget, you will be forgotten.

in the absence of communication, memories disappear. the result of broken neural connections. a boat tied to a dock and the boat...floats...away.

the importance of definitions. define something and you will understand it. define it and you will have CREATED it. look at it and feel helpless. define it while you look in the mirror and cry and try to make yourself vomit, only to be ashamed at the red specks of blood from your raw throat on the side of the toilet. maybe you will lie on the bathroom floor all night. maybe you will punch the mirror, which will not break hahahha and you will take comfort in the thought of blood (androgynous, generic in appearance) throbbing through your hand (yes, the one with the finger prints that are entirely different from anyone within the time/space plane of mother earth, giving new meaning to infinite or the possiblity of infinity). yes yes yes...your blood looks the same as everyone elses. but you dont. and you might be fucking yourself, and fucking others for the rest of your life over this. fucking your soul because its not entwined in the other soul. its sitting somewhere inside your lovers skeleton hovering somewhere between the heart and the stomach. waiting to be prodded and poked until the feeling of being inappropriately TOUCHED sets in, then it goes back into your body, disallusionment setting in deja vu....what happened? youll remember two days later and laugh about it with your friend who does the same exact thing. soul fucking. definitions arent easy things...like mathematical equations, they seem alien but trust me, they are TIME WARPS...tunnels inside of worlds you thought only existed in story books and movies. enter into them mindlessly. you dont need a brain to jump into antarctic waters. just a will.


(ok, this part is for you)
therefore.
i will speak in symbols, out of laziness, and compute problems that begin with abstract meaningless or possibly subliminally meaningful thought. these are merely starting points. and thats fucking BEAUTIFUL....i have a desire to spark flames inside minds. we do.....lets isolate and integrate and retreat and cry and watch over....angel....angels without wings. as i speak in tongues, as i paint this metaphor i can see a word bubble (you know, the kind in comic books? hah) appearing between the two of us. birthing, not out of thin air, but as if it has been given birth to by something in BACK of it, multidimensional. within this bubble is the opposite of abstract, the opposite of the cold metallic spark that has been haunting my dreams all summer.

(im back)
Saturday, July 31st, 2004
2:36 pm
death is necessary
mmmm major hangover this morning
last night was ally's birthday
drinking with ally nancy andre david eric ashley etc
ally told me she had this dream where we had a knife fight
despite feeling like total fucking shit i am going to see the moving units tonight...meeting up with justin and some other kids
i seriously dont know if ill be down for 82 tommorow
:/
Thursday, July 29th, 2004
2:51 pm
same wheel just different heels
that was last night
thriller, of course. hah
fun fun
lindsey <3 angel <3
i think im too tired to go to tigerheat, but we shall see i guess.

Current Mood: apathetic
Wednesday, July 28th, 2004
1:51 pm
oh darling
words are launching pads, mistakes, pieces of god. i catch a moth between my thumb and my index finger, rub and turn life into dust. everything that matters is forgotten. fuck your drama, but read mine, precious movie star. im going to bathe in this black tar and sunlight until i dry, my corspe will harden, my vulnerablity will be lost inside pockets of stale, immortal air. i will yawn on the phone, i will mold language until it fits the inside of my mouth, throat, grooves on my tongue, i will talk in the first person until so many people start talking about me that my voice drowns in a sea of cliches and recognizable phrases.

sarcasm
lilting voices singing SO


(i hope its comforting that your not as special as you think you are.
its a comfort for me.) <3 jessica

Current Mood: complacent
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