just start over...

This video involves chemistry and art; it looks like it would be something that would be inexpensive and a lot of fun to try. posting it here so i don't loose it.

For those of you who do follow this blog, all four or five of you that i have trusted with the knowledge of the fact that it exists, i want to apologize for the fact that i quit writing for a good 3 months. there isn't a wonderful reason, honestly. i just didn't want to sit down and replay all of the crappy things that had been happening to me, and then, manically put it up there because i was suffering from a fairly good bout of mania which meant that my ability to filter myself and what i was saying was, well, virtually non-existant. i didn't want to write down things i would later grow to regret. and, as far as i know, this journal space doesn't have a place where i can make my entries private, for me alone. if someone knows how to do that, give me the heads up.

The point however, is that i am a long way away from that point in my life and i am over it. i doubt i will ever write about it, but if i choose to, i will, and it won't be all that big of a deal. i desperately need to write - as a way of getting off the things that bother me, as a way of looking back at what i have been up to so i can recognize my patterns, as a way of being able to better understand myself, as a way to be a better writer, a way to work with words, a way to also - most importantly - express myself - who i am - as a singular person, on this planet.

so to those of you who read this, expect to read or find something on this page almost every day. that is my intention anyhow. my gift to myself. hope this finds you all well.

xo

cor.

you put a smell on me.

ive always loved matthew dear, since when we saw him play this wearhouse party in the middle of the ghetto in detroit. he just released this new record, called black city - ive been listening to it as ive been writing & i think it is... fucking amazing.

this song - i wish i had come across it earlier in the summer when everything was all sticky wet and sexual. its so sleezy and its the perfect song to fuck someone to. its like what jimmy edgar does but with less r&b and more electro - so that means i like it a lot more.

listen to it here.

mommy dearest.

i am sorry i am
such a disappointment
as a daughter -

that i suffer from
pain in multiples -
that i need pills
to function
just like my god-forsaken father
& that no matter how great
i am doing you will
never forgive me my faults
my past mistakes
are as real to you
as yesterday
i will always be a drugged out
morphine abusing
girl who deserved to be raped
who only wanted attention
who craved attention
and drama
who
cries too much
who can't be strong enough
who puts her family
through shame
who just
pops more pills so she
can't feel anymore
who has wasted
any talent she had
who is nearly 30
and still living at your house
& now has her
piece of shit friend
"eating you out of
house and home &
drinking all your pop
smoking all your cigarettes
& come to think of it
he never even does the dishes
like he is supposed to."

which just further proves
how lousy your daughter is
at making decisions -
i am sorry i am such an
epic failure
that i am not like
your son
who has his own car
who has his own house
who works for the university of michigan
who has always done well in school
who has never disappointed you
who never shows emotions
but when, whose heart does get broken
well - then we call out all the stops

i am sorry
i am not what you wanted me to be
i am sorry i am flawed
emotional
confused
full of contradictions
unsure
damaged
that i was old enough to know
how epically FUCKED my childhood really was
i am sorry that the things that interest me
and matter to me
you could give a shit about
but it doesnt mean
you can yell at me
demean me
and tell me
that i am
nothing more
than a pill addicted
piece of shit.

because it couldn't be
further from the truth
and i really
really resent you for that.
how dare you come into my room
and try to have small talk
after you tell me i am
nothing.

(and people wonder why i
have such huge complexes)

(not my) teenage dream

its been ages, years, since i was a teenager even -
that i felt the urge to
crawl trembling
curl
into the fetal
and slice the bits of skin
that cover me with a razor
while smiling with
satisfaction
as the blood rushed out
knowing that i was a living
breathing being
fully aware that i was
the one who was
destroying myself
never feeling more alive
than in that moment
when the metal
slices open
my skin


& it scares me
that i am loosing
all sense of normality
all sense of who i am
that my depression
my insanity
is sinking me into
this disgusting thing
who wants to hurt herself
so she can feel something
other than ugly, awful, mundane,
plain, unwanted, sad, horrible,
pathetic, rebounded, dumb, stuck,
surrounded by sycophants, nasty,
unloved, unforgivable, hypocritical,
hated, her own worst enemy,
never going to make it anyway,
a fucking joke, who will never find
a person who will love her warts & all,
always trying to please people who are
so not worth pleasing and
did i mention stuck? - miserable,
for-ever-questioning what the hell
the point even is in breathing -
yet- not able to give up just yet -

and so instead
i day dreamed of the days
when i -
put metal to skin
the satisfying rush of blood
how the line doesn't rush right away
but shows up like invisible ink
the anger the hate the self hate
clarity came that i don't hate myself
and that's the difference
which is why i didn't even bother
and instead
i went outside to clean
the elderly neighbor's
mailbox which got covered
in garlic couscous
mustard, salami,
and more garlic
(they must have wanted to
keep the glittering twilight vampires away?)
by the concurring teenage football team
and i had to laugh at the irony of it all
these teenagers -
enacting random acts of completely
stupid vandalism upon strangers -
and i -
as a teen
sat in my room
vandalizing my wrists,
arms, legs,
flesh -
myself.

24 hours from now might as well be 24 years.

he looks at me and finally tells me that he is leaving to go over to her house. i ask why. he tells me he needs money. hes getting money from her. shes paying him back? wow, she's never paid me back anything, but thats nothing new. earlier in the evening i asked her if he was there. she said no. ive had a few civil conversations with her, and i know he is hoping we can all become one happy family, but it isnt going to happen. i can't have her in my life. and im really just bidding my time until he is out of here. when i told him that i could no longer have him sleep with me in my bed - that it fucks with me emotionally, that it isn't right to do to wynn, and really it isnt right of him to do to jeanne - not that he seems to care - he turned it into a big huge fucking blow up argument. i can not communicate with him or to him about anything. not how i feel, not what is going on in my life, not what i am thinking about, not what i am missing, not my hopes or dreams. he is so far from being anything like my twin that it is really beyond laughable. this person - this person doesn't care about me or my feelings - he slept with me and right after he called jeanne. thats a person who really doesn't care about my feelings. he only cares about himself. it was after that moment that i let go of any sort of hope or dreams that i had that there was a person in him that wasn't horrible or 100% selfish. that wasn't all dark and evil. that act showed me how little i meant - and how much i am being used, continually.

on the upside, i have reached a point where i no longer end up having panic attacks when i know he is with jeanne having some wonderful quasi romantic outing - they deserve that and each other and if thats what they want, then great - i am respecting it - i only ask that jeanne respects me enough to get him out of my fucking house. because if they love one another that much, enough to destroy their friendships with me - they can at least remove me from the picture instead of keeping me stuck in it and feeling awkward and often still reminded of the rejection that took place. i understand that this is, of course, asking too much. but i knew he would go see her today, i knew it like i knew the sun would rise. and sure enough he is with her. i just don't understand why they try to act differently. i don't understand why he tries to pretend like he doesn't talk about me to her, when i know he does. i don't understand why he thinks he deserves to have my trust. what trust? he broke it so many times, and like jeanne - this was the last fucking straw.

so if sometimes i say - wynn actually genuinely gives a shit about me, he actually wants to know what i am upset about and doesn't use it against me, he actually wants to help me and hold me and fix me - i mean it. he does. i don't believe for a second that zak dean gives a fuck about how i feel or if i am suicidal and unhappy - he doesn't try to help me or even talk to me about it. instead he tends to make the feeling worse by reminding me how i don't have it nearly as rough as he does. and how i am 'all he has.' and i correct him and say 'oh but you have jeanne too and don't forget you like her far more than you like me.' which is true and which shuts him up. he says i am a liar because i said there would be no relationship between us but when he sent me letters they implied more than anything a relationship. that was how i took it. i say he is a liar and hes betrayed me because for the past year now, all i have asked is that he doesn't get with my best friend - that he doesn't mind fuck me that way - because it hurts me in ways i cant even begin to put words to. he promised he wouldn't. and what was the first thing he did? oh, that. and so he tries with his rightious indigation to say i am the one who is wrong - but im not. i brought up the one thing i asked of him, and he said "oh fuck, shit, yeah...god cor, im so sorry."
through tears, i looked at him "sorry? are you? yeah.. right. youre always so fucking sorry, aren't you."

but the truth of the matter is, im no longer angry.
i don't like him like that, and half the time, i really can't even stand him.
he doesn't feel like a friend. he doesn't treat me like a friend, or someone who matters to him.
he treats me like i will always be around, someone to always take care of him
someone for him to always walk all over.
its not going to last much longer.
i had to get on another anti-depressant, and a mood stabilizer
because ive been so depressed and suicidal since he got here.
his energy - its bad energy. i want it away from me.
there isnt anything to work out. sometimes, people are just... horrible.
sometimes they are just black holes.

im looking at finding a job,
finding a place to move away from them and everyone here
a way to start over.
looking at going to school again,
visiting wim,
visiting greer
attempting to get rid of the negative aspects of my life
which is going to be a slow process
but none the less
learning to not let things that i know are stupid upset me
when its not me that is upset, rather it is my ego
and really, my ego can take it
i wont always win
and really - was this a battle i wanted to win? seriously?
come on?
if i had won this, what would it say about me as a person?
it would say nothing good.
it would say i don't process my feelings, i take a ton of drugs & abuse them, that i act childish, that i haven't worked out my issues or my shit and instead pin it on others, that i refuse to grow up and blame others for my faults - it would say that these past six years - i have learned nothing and grown little if none at all. they say you attract what you are - im definately not him. im so fucking far above him. he hates himself so much that it oozes out of his conversations, in the way he moves, the way he talks and what he even talks about. she hates herself too. its in the way she treats other people, herself, how she looks, how lazy she is, how angry she is. how many benzos she takes to get through the day. anything to avoid feeling.

and me - i don't take drugs unless i have to. unless the pain is too much to bare, unless the panic attack is lurking in my throat. unless i have been throwing up. i analyze my feelings constantly and ask myself why i am doing what i am doing and try to correct my mistakes. i read constantly - about psychology, myth, addiction, co-dependancy, jung. i accept all responsibility for my mistakes. i apologize when i am wrong. i have civil conversations and i try hard to not attack those who have hurt me although sometimes it is really hard. in general, i have relationships with people that are all very stable and not full of drama. the adults around me respect me and feel like i am very much together and very bright. they can't believe what i have been through and how i have gotten to this point. i can say openly that i do not hate who i am. i can also say that lately i have wanted very much to die. its been very stressful, very hard, to do nothing all day, to loose a job i loved - a perfect job for me and then go to working a horrible job where everyone talked shit about how i am a drug addict - when i am not. i never even got a chance. and it really hurt and upset me. especially when everyone who works there is on something, and yet, i had problems? cos... i didn't. so i quit, because it was killing my body and now i am broke with too much time on my hands. i need to go back to school if i can, and i need a better job and i need to figure this shit out this week. i need to quit being so depressed but its hard when everyone in this house is so depressed - hanging by a thread, and the person who shares this room with me - is constantly talking about wanting to die. as if that is my fault.

and wynn, hes very nice, very good to me. i like him but he is now madly in love with me. i dont know what to do. i can say i love him, in ways i do, but hes not perfect for me. hes not smart enough, definately not ambitious enough. he has the ability to go to whatever college he wants to and he would rather work a shit job and drink. hes an alcoholic and... hes not really working on that one. and, i can't be with someone who is that fucked up. who turns me into his new drug, which is what is happening. im going to fail. i wont give him what he needs. which is constant attention. i need space. i need time to figure out who i am and what i want. because i am still really confused and really hurt. and i still interact with a person who is constantly stabbing me with his words.

its a slow burn.

he tells me i am stupid, to let this go on for as long as it has. he says it is my life and i am the only one who can fix it. i can feel the love he had for me draining away, word by word. i have told him that i do not know who i am, or what i am doing, or what is going to happen. i wonder if he understands how hard it is to not get attached to the idea of him - the idea of that safety. i wonder if he understands that i won't ever find someone like him again, and that i miss him, constantly, most especially when i am freaking the fuck out.

when i tell him i love him, i mean it, i just don't know where it all fits into the picture. two continents that are too far away, and two lives that are so different. he is more whole than i am, he isn't trying to fill in the pieces of emptiness every day. and i know better, i know better, that i can not fill what is burning inside of me. that i need to know what the hell my problem really is. i just dont even have a clue as to where to start with that project. i really don't.

and i don't want to hurt him by telling him the details of my life, but he wants to know, so i tell him and i am thinking i shouldn't. he knows if i do not write to him i am not okay, not at all, and he knows me - who i am. but i do not know if he loves me, or the parts of me that i do not understand, that are bad, that burn inside of me.

so instead of even beginning to figure out what i am doing, yesterday i slept until one fourty five, and then i took a shower. zak came home, we went out for middle eastern food and then we went to the beach, where i started to think, got depressed and then i went and hung out with wynn. wynn and i saw dinner for schmucks, and then i came home.

to find zak not here. he eventually showed up around 2 in the morning, saying he though he had passed out while on his walk. he can't account for a huge chunk of time. i just assumed he was at jeannes. and maybe he was. who the hell knows. but he looked like he was going to die. so i forced him to eat, and drink some water, and get some sleep. he is going to kill himself soon just by being so stupid - by not eating and taking even the slightest care of himself. i feel like i am his mother, always taking care of him.

so here i am, wide awake-ish, anxious as all hell, and, truly wondering what i am going to do with my day.

i spent all last night catching up on heather's blog entries. i wish sometimes i could write like her. and her stories, they are so insane. i am jealous & envious of the fact that she has taken her fucked up life & turned it into books, where as i - can't seem to figure out for the life of me just what it is i want to say. what stories do i tell? how do i even begin to tell them? where do i even start?

ive been thinking about going back through the journals i had from when i lived in arizona. i havent read them in years and i am curious as to what they even say. i am curious as to if i have changed my life all that much or if i am still repeating the same patterns, minus the drugs.

have i learned anything from all of that?

i sometimes wonder. i think ive just learned how to be more afraid... of loosing someone.

which is why i can never cut the cords.

you don't move me anymore... & im glad that you don't because i can't take it anymore...