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Diary of an exit wound
on a mission to be the darling of God
All my last 200 entries have been tragedy. Let's do some comedy.
The other day I was teaching a lesson on geological time. I was trying to get my kids to understand the relative time difference between the building of the pyramids and the opening of the oceans. I asked "if I were to ask you, what's the oldest thing on earth you could visit, what would you say?"
Student answers: "my grandmother".

I had to turn around :-)
Give me a Sign

So last night i made a fb post: "eh, honestly i was gonna buy more guns either way". Because i like guns, see? Someone read that as "i'm buying guns because Obama won". Which is the opposite of what i meant.
FFS.

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So Obama won.
That's fine.
Now I know the collapse will be financial and not moral.
Fine.
But i am done to DEATH with the "yay woman" moment.
You know what i am?
I'm a teacher. I'm a scientist. I'm a horror movie fan. I like extra cheese on my pizza. I'm a new yorker. I'm a jets fan. I'm a mets fan. I'm an iphone user. I love cats. I hate steig larssen but love mysteries. I'm a devoted sister. I love deep fried twinkies. I used to live in vegas. I'm a whiskey drinker. I have tattoos. I'm recovering from surgery.

This could go on forever

And goddamn you fools who think that the only worth i have is my ability to call for an on-demand abortion.

I'm pro choice--but my uterus does not define me.

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It's another crisp blue Tuesday.
Another year and all I can think this time
Is the tragedy in forgetting,
in un-knowing.
My students, 14, 15, don't remember.
Don't remember.

A day that carved itself into my heart and my eyes, splintering me and you and us forever into before and after, the day that we still carry in ashes and sorrow and endless grief and they

don't

remember.

I don't know how to tell them.
I don't know what to tell them.

I don't even know what to tell myself except hush, heart, hush
it is clear beautiful September
we have won another hard-fought year
and the tears that come unbidden
will be the only monument I can still offer.

*With grief and gratitude for all those who lost their lives on 9/11/01, and for all those who have lost their lives since*

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I feel: numb numb

Give me a Sign

It was like
Red
Red
The color of my heart was red.
And fear
I tremble
Escape
Horribly awake.
Horribly, darkly, murderously
Awake.

He lets the screaming go
I just want to run
Hide it away

But you're chasing me down

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Current Location: US, Maryland, Wheaton, Montgomery, Flack St, 12952

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I wish so much i could sleep. I'm tired all the time. Nothing helps. Pills; meditation; booze. Nothing.
I'm re-learning 4 am.
I wish it were different.

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Current Location: US, Maryland, Wheaton, Montgomery, Olympic St, 3507

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So here's a thing.
My house has an ant infestation. They are EVERYWHERE. I have a kitter and so can't just spray. I lay down traps. It's like a fucking horror movie.
But seriously? I DARE you to have to squish bugs on your skin and then be able to sleep without anti-anxiety meds.

Jesus.

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Current Location: US, Maryland, Aspen Hill, Montgomery, Beechvue Ln, 14199

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I think
Breathe in
Breathe out
Breathe in--
I wish i could sleep still.

I wish that was a place i was going.

Breathe out and
We're all poisonous
Me just on my spines,
Narrow eyes and a taste like

Forgiveness.

I don't want this.
Any of it.
I want to be safe warm asleep
In my safe warm bed.

Breathe in.

She looks at me and i think,
God,
We're endless.
Mercury drifting past time itself.

Breathe out.

Sleep please
Please
Come for me.

I don't know if i can do this alone.

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.

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Current Location: US, Maryland, Aspen Hill, Montgomery, Bel Pre Rd, 3052

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Julian Brennan. I miss you. every day. all the time. thank you will never be enough for so costly a sacrifice laid on the altar of freedom.

Andrew Murtha. You are showing your sons what it means to be a man. you should be so proud. we are.

Ryan Kluzinski. Canadian soldier. americans forget. i remember. i love you.

Andrew Fuller. My brother, my friend. you need to come home soon, safely. i am so proud you are my family. i am so glad you love my sister. i can't wait to see you.
Give me a Sign
Who are your heroes?

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Give me a Sign

it's a terrible truth that depression's twin isn't sadness. it's apathy. I don't know what would make me happy. I don't see how anything could. I don't want anything. Cheetos, no. new tires, no. iPhone 4s, no. backrub, lipstick, tickets to Aruba. no, no, no.
I know this will pass. it always does. but right now I feel like in a day or two or six I'm going to get out of bed because I want to, and I'm going to say: tacos; you guys, I want tacos; and there won't be anyone who cares at all.
and right now, I don't even care enough for that to make me sad.

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because I don't know what I did.

 

on the floating
shapeless ocean
I did all my best to smile....

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Give me a Sign


today I:
was out of the house for 15 hours (work + class )
had a fever all morning--in an un-air-conditioned room
had to manually plug in and network 25 computers over 2 class periods while my kids ran riot because they had nothing to do
was so frustrated by said running riot that I acted like an ultra Mega bitch
was called a fat bitch. twice.
was threatened by a student.
when I sent a different  student to get help, he came back saying "there's no-one there"
spent over 3 hours on a spreadsheet that ultimately didn't do what I needed
and so, didn't do my grading
smashed my ankle bone on a chair and hurt my toe getting out of the shower
came home and had my husband act like a little bitch when I said no to something he wanted. he now remembers this as me getting upset at what he told me.

 

I know I'm such a tough bitch, but today I just want to give up. I just want someone to be nice to me for 5 minutes before I fall asleep.

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I should say something.

give me a minute

I need to stop screaming.

it's been 10 years and I
can't
stop
screaming

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Give me a Sign


I'm not ready. I'm not ready. I'm not ready. I'm not ready.

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school starts monday. the building isn't finished. i have no access to my smartboard or my projector. the person who was supposed to proofread my syllabus hasn't yet. and critter bit my wrist in such a way as to make me look like a botched suicide, which my 98 9th graders will surely notice.

super.

I feel: stressed stressed

3 people paid in kind so Give me a Sign
Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.

Escribir, por ejemplo: "La noche está estrellada,
y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos."

El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.

En las noches como esta la tuve entre mis brazos.
La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.

Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería.
Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.

Oir la noche inmensa, más inmensa sin ella.
Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío.

Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla.
La noche esta estrellada y ella no está conmigo.

Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.
Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo.

La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles.
Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise.
Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído.

De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos.
Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.
Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.

Porque en noches como esta la tuve entre mis brazos,
mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Aunque este sea el ultimo dolor que ella me causa,
y estos sean los ultimos versos que yo le escribo.


>>sometimes the hardest things to lose are the things you expect the least<<
**FYI this is NOT about me and watson. that is one area of my life that is, thankfully, thriving.

I feel: sad sad

Give me a Sign
you can lose so much you'll never want to start
over again
over again


i'm ranting while i'm raving, there's nothing here worth saving
Give me a Sign
To the princess who is locked
In the prison of her own undoing:
If it were within my power, I would simply open the gates and set you free;
Toss the key from beneath the window;
Storm the things that hold you bound and defeat them, slay them,
Give rest to your monsters.

But you no longer look to the sea, I fear
Instead turning your eyes to the cage you have created
Accepting it as somewhere to inhabit
Unloved, unwanted, unfought.

I wish I could scream loudly enough for you to hear
Over the ghosts that drift in whispers
But all I see is the shadow of a smile,
The tell-tale half-truth offered
To spare you the pain of speaking it
And me the pain of hearing it.

But you can’t hide forever
Already you shift, restless, knowing that you should be
A proud warrior queen
Riding to slay other people’s demons
As you have so often killed mine.

Take heart, princess trapped in the prison of your undoing.
Here there be monsters
But here also there be me.
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i think maybe i need to talk about it.

how i feel shoved against the wall, forced to my knees, lost, abandoned, alone.
how i know how bratty i'm getting, how i hate myself because of how i'm being. i want to dissapear, to dissolve, to unmake. but it's like my kids, you know, this inability to say what i need, this inability to express what i'm really missing. so i couch it in pouts and talk of cheeseburgers, i drown it down deep in rum and whiskey and the lie that i'm just crying because the movie is sad.
i knew, of course, that nothing dies easy. that there is nothing on earth that comes without a cost. every choice i made i have made with my head up and my eyes open. je ne regrette rien.
but.
3 oclock in the morning and 94 degrees and i think, jesus.
jesus.
you mattered so much.
you laughed because you said i only ever always told you when i was drunk. but the truth is, when i was sober i knew that the feeling was so much more than me, was so much bigger than this mess of words i can try to create. so i said nothing, but i fixed your drinks the way you like them and i swept your floor and i tried to say it without saying it.
i thought you knew. i thought maybe you had some idea. now, here, alone, i pray that you didn't. that you were the things that people guessed, that your heart is wired wrong, that it never mattered. that i never mattered.
i could, i suppose, live with that. i couldn't stand it if you knew, if you knew how much, if you knew what this turning away was doing to me, and did it anyway.
i guess i need to talk about it. but it feels like chewing on razors to know that you wouldn't listen.

I feel: sad sad

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