Tuesday, June.13/2000 and beyond me


That's the fucking end of that. I am so fucking full of rage right now I want to fucking kill something. Burn something down. "Burn to the fucking ground, L.A. Whitey's gonna pay, whitey's gonna pay"

This is fucking bullshit, can I waste any more fucking time? What the fuck am I doing? Why in hell do I gravitate to these assholes, boars/bores so fucking relentlessly? What in hell got me to where I am? So still, so still.

"scream away my mental health... help me save me from myself"

Just watched "American History X" last night. Intense. (The main character, Derek, reminds me, badly, of someone I used to know. That's UGLY. Glad I don't know that person anymore. )I had a curb in my head all fucking day. Until this evening. Sweat and anger and yelling screaming fucking pain and animal rage replaced the curb. I don't want to see those fuckers I went to highschool with ever again. I don't want to see any of my goddamned "friends" ever again. It's just fucking best to get rid of them all now in one haul. Through. Over. You fucking weak wastes of my time and fucking energy. Why do I always seem to harbour friends I have no respect for?


Cathartic show tonight. Beyond cathartic. When it wuz all over and the lights went up I went down. I wuz out. Lying on the concrete of GM Place, completely broken, exhausted, destroyed. Soaked with sweat and bloody raging with conviction through my thirst and exhaustion and bruises. People hovering and questioning "are you okay? are you okay?" "i need water... i just need water"

The show. THE SHOW. And fuck you for making me feel some little twinge of something vaguely like guilt for being so fucking blown away, so entirely consumed, captivated, fucking entranced by that show. I don't fucking care about the highschool twits around me. Or the jock pussies with their elbows in my tits. Or the kiddies who think an all-black wardrobe gives them seniority or makes them real special an', like, totally unique "Maynard and Trent would think I wuz superfly in these fishnets. They're gunna see ME, just ME, in this huge crowd, and they're gunna take me with them on tour and I'm gunna be their bestfriend. We're gunna have crazy rock'n'roll fun ALL THE TIME!!" (Oh wait, that wuz my fantasy. Ha ha. You fucken dorks.)

There is no point describing the show. Is there? Yes there is. I wasted all the mad details on apathetic nitwits on the drive home. Yeah they were there too, but they were in SEATS, about 50 metres back. Not down in the mosh/sweat-pit of Hades... Oh and I am grateful for that. I feel much gratitude for that.

Where is everybody?

Sobbing as I staggered around, looking for something (after the show)... Sobbing. It wuz wreckage. Fucking emotional wreckage. I'm sure I looked deliciously enticing... In that lunatic-in-public way. Welllll... Fuckit. I am who I fucking am.
And I know that I'm better.
I'm better off alone.