Monster, How Should I Feel?

Her little whispers.
Love Me. Love Me.
That's all I ask for.
Love Me. Love Me.

the law says i can't give you specifics.

but in group therapy today we were talking about sexual abuse.

two of these girls i have come to see as my sisters, have been raped by people they were supposed to trust.

the thing that stands out the most in my mind about tonight, is not the stories they told. it isn't the tears i watched them shed. it wasn't the pain i saw in their eyes.

all i could think about is how unwanted i feel.

Her battered his tiny fists to feel something.
Wondered what it's like to touch and feel something.
How should I feel?
Creatures lie here.
Looking through the window

it was mentioned that as a child, one of the girls did not understand what was happening and that even today, she has mixed feelings and didn't hate it.

our therapist told us that when we feel neglected, we don't know what to do with feelings like this.
we don't know anything else.

all i could think about is how neglected i feel.

not because no one seems to want to help me, because that isn't the case.

i feel neglected because no one has set me apart like these rapists did to my sisters.

i feel so disgusting and unwanted because i have never had to tell anyone to stop.

That night he caged her.
Bruised and broke her.
He struggled closer.
Then he stole her.
Violet wrists and then her ankles.
Silent Pain.
Then he slowly saw their nightmares were his dreams.

this may make me sound completely insane, but i want to feel like that.
i am not begging to be raped.
but i want to be wanted.

when i am driving on the highway, and the creepy middle-aged men stare at me..deep down part of me likes it.

don't get me wrong.
it's creepy as hell.

but it makes me feel attractive.

i want to be hit on.
i have never been hit on by a stranger.

it makes me feel repulsive.


Entertain Us.

The music channel, Fuse, is in the middle of a series about the most influential music videos ever created.

the first song featured was Nirvana's, "Smells Like Teen Spirit"

Load up on guns
Bring your friends
It's fun to lose and to pretend
She's overborne and self-assured
Oh no, I know a dirty word

Hello, hello, hello, hello, how low?

With the Lights out it's less dangerous
Here we are now entertain us

I feel stupid and contagious

Here we are now entertain us

teens really don't serve much purpose.
sometimes i feel like all we are meant to do is consume.
we are professional consumers.
we are only wanted for our money.

A mulatto, an albino

Mulatto is defined as "a person of mixed white and black ancestry, esp. a person with one white and one black parent."

Albino is defined as "a person or animal having a congenital absence of pigment in the skin and hair (which are white) and the eyes (which are typically pink)."

Society has a very big impact on teenagers. There is no point in denying it.
we follow trends and fads and whatever the hell is cool now.
we are all ultimately the same beast on the inside.
that doesn't change according to the color of your skin.
not much does.

A mosquito, my libido

I'm worse at what I do best
And for this gift I feel blessed
Our little group has always been
And always will until the end

this is a song that i understand, until i try to explain it.
teenagers are a special breed of human upon this earth.

we can be molded into anything the media wants us to be.

especially now.

society is shot to hell. that isn't hard to see.
we are all just spoiled little brats who blindly believe and follow whatever path looks pleasing right now.

Kurt Cobain understood this.

I wish he were still here because I am sure he could put up a better argument than I could ever dream of.


We Only Say Goodbye With Words

my entire world has gone downhill and i can't stop it.

i talked to him for hours last night.
i will never need heroin as long as i have him.

but sometimes i fell like it's a one sided thing.

i used to think the opposite.
i used to feel bad because i thought he was giving and giving and i was just taking.
but that isn't the case.

i am always the one that has to go out of my way for him.
he never has time for me.
so when he does, i pick up and drive an hour to see him.

i realize now that he doesn't understand how big of a deal that is.
gas, time..me and my parents give up a hell of a lot for me to be able to see him.

we always have to work around his schedule.
he is all i have, i don't have a schedule.

for example, i was on his side of town on saturday to see my family.
he was supposed to call me when he got off of work so we could do something.

he did and said that he was picking up his x-box from home and he had to go to this guys house because his family is out of town. he asked if he could go over there and then see if the three of us could do something.

(me and the other guy have a past. i don't have a problem with it but he obviously still feels guilty because he makes it really awkward.)

i say thats fine. whatever.

he calls back an hour later and says "yeah, will is really sick so we can't do anything."
so he plays x-box all night.

he calls back later and asks if he can see me the next day (sunday)
and says he will call me then.


so sunday, i wait for him to call all day.

i basically give up.
at like, 5:30 PM
he finally calls.

"i'm free until about 8:30 if you can still do something"

so i drop everything and run to him.
i drive an hour to be able to see him for 2.

and he doesn't even appreciate it.

last night i was talking to him on aim.
i am spilling my heart to him.
crying my eyes out.

all he has to say is "brb"
then he goes outside to smoke a joint.

it wasn't always like this.

so when is enough, finally enough?


Have You Ever Been Blue?

the following is taken straight from my sketchbook diary.

monday november 19, 2007

I watched girl, interrupted today and I was reminded why it is my favorite movie. I think the reason I love it so much is because I relate to it very well. Some of the monologues seem to make direct reference to me. Sometimes mine and Winona [Ryder]'s faces are interchangeable. She isn't sure what her sickness is about and neither do I.
When she is in Dr. Wick's office and brings up "ambivalence" I feel like they are talking about me.

"Do I stay or do I go?" "Am I sane or am I crazy?"

This has been a rough week. Not for any specific reason, but I actually told myself out loud that I don't want help. I don't want to get better. After weeks of not cutting, I cut. After months of not purging, I purged. Unlike in the past, I didn't hate it. I didn't regret it. I didn't hate myself. I didn't get caught.

This morning, I wasn't even depressed. I cut because I could. I did it because I couldn't think of a reason not to. I did it for the hell of it. I can still feel it burning and I like it. I was looking forward to lunch all day just so I could purge. I can't remember the last time I was excited to eat.

I think abot suicide all the time but don't think I could act on it because of all the people I would let down.

sometimes I feel like I care too much about other people's feelings. I decide on actions after carefully debating whether someone will get hurt or not.

they say suicide is the ultimate act of selfishness. but what if you have never been selfish in your life? I don't even know what that feels like.

sometimes I feel like a hypocrite for being a strong advocate for organizations like "To Write Love On Her Arms."

I would rather help everyone else in the entire world than help myself.

I donate money and spread the word of this anti-self injury organization, when I don't even feel like using them to help me. Kinda like competing in the Tour De France with no bicycle.

I can see my therapist for the rest of my life and never get one step closer to recovering. I have been given the tools, taught to use them but it will only work if I pick them up and use them.

I am at a point where I have been struggling to even pick them up and I am tired of trying so hard. Living in the midst of this habit is just so much easier than fighting it.

It has become a part of me. I don't know where my sickness ends and the real me begins anymore.


Mama, We All Go To Hell

i can't imagine what it feels like to have a daughter with mental illness.

i have drove my mother into a midlife crisis.

i am hesitant to even call her a mother anymore. she is trying to be a friend. she tries to buy my love. she lets me spend the night at random guys houses.
i know, where is the problem, right?

the problem is, it is 9:00 pm and she hasn't come home yet. she spends more time with her co-workers than she does with me. she has no problem with me doing things as long as it doesn't interfere with her 'Molly's Time'

(Molly's is the bar she now calls home)

All I have to do to get my license is prove to her that I am responsible enough to have it. But how can I do that if she is never around. If I had my fucking license, I wouldn't have to interfere with her precious Molly Time.

She takes me away from everything I know. All my friends. My boyfriend. Everything. And I can't even go visit them without her having to sacrifice her time and car and gas.

I have never been very fond of my mom. I started battling depression in third grade (after we moved for the millionth time) and all I really remember was wishing school wouldn't end so I wouldn't have to go home to her. I remember sitting in my room crying and ripping up pictures of her.

Everyone else loves her.
The sound of her voice makes me physically sick.

When I do something good for me, she makes me feel so fucking guilty about it because it was a slight inconvenience to her.

It feels like she doesn't care about my mental recovery anymore and just wants me to get better so she won't have to pay all the doctors and pharmacy bills.

she claims that she raised me in a christian home. in reality, the only christ-like example from her was driving me to church every sunday.

when i told her i didn't believe there was a god, all she could say is "what did i do wrong?"

fuck that.

Hush, now baby. Baby, don't you cry.
Momma's gonna make all of your nightmares come true.
Momma's gonna put all of her fears into you.
Momma's gonna keep you right here under her wing.
She won't let you fly, but she might let you sing.
Momma's gonna keep Baby cozy and warm.

people always say how lucky i am that i have a cool mom.
i say things like "yeah, i know"
but inside i am saying "i don't have one."


What Do You Have To Say For Your Self?

Admit it!
Despite your pseudo-bohemian appearance
And vaguely leftist doctrine of beliefs
You know nothing about art or sex
That you couldn’t read in any trendy New York underground fashion magazine

posers. oh my god.

Prototypical non-conformist
You are a vacuous soldier of the thrift store Gestapo
You adhere to a set of standards and tastes
That appear to be determined by an unseen panel of hipster judges (bullshit)
Giving a thumbs up or thumbs down to incoming and outgoing trends and styles of music and art
Go analog baby, you’re so post-modern
You’re diving face forward into a antiquated past
It’s disgusting, it's offensive, don’t stick your nose up at me

what makes looking the same as everyone else appealing?
so what if i want to wear what i want.
sorry if i am not indie/scene/hip/fake enough for you.

You spend your time sitting in circles with your friends
Pontificating to each other
Forever competing for that one moment of self-aggrandizing glory
In which you hog the intellectual spotlight
Holding dominion over the entire shallow pointless conversation
Oh, we’re not worthy

Max Bemis wrote this song that explains the entire scene fantastically.

Things have gotten so ridiculous. As if there is nothing more important than looking a certain way for no reason whatsoever. No one really cares except you and the other people who are just like you. I can't tell the two of you apart.

When you walk by a group of quote-unquote normal people
You chuckle to yourself patting yourself on the back as you scoff
It's the same superiority complex
Shared by the high school jocks who made your life a living hell
And makes you a slave to the competitive capitalist dogma
You spend every moment of your waking life bitching about

'Cause I’m proud of my life and the things that I have done
Proud of myself and the loner I’ve become
You’re free to whine, it will not get you far
I do just fine, my car and my guitar

I know a few of these assholes. They are extremely annoying.
Unfortunately, I have never been lucky enough to have been confronted by one, but I know what they think.
When I walk past them and their "friends" I see the looks they give me and I just have to smile.

Nothing makes me feel better than knowing I didn't conform when I woke up this morning.

Well let me tell you this, I am shamelessly self-involved
I spend hours in front of the mirror, making my hair elegantly disheveled
I worry about how this album will sell
Because I believe it will determine the amount of sex I will have in the future
I self medicate with drugs and alcohol to treat my extreme social anxiety

So thank you, Max Bemis.
Keep on doing what you are doing.
I love it.


My Name Is Leslie Ann Levine

the same uncle who recently committed suicide has a brother.

this brother has a daughter named Angel.

Angel is 14 years old.

A few days ago, Angel gave birth to a 2lb baby.

Angel's father did not know until two days before the birth. Angel had managed to keep the pregnancy a secret for 6 months. Not once did she see a doctor.

As far as I know, the baby is still alive.

what has the world come to?

she isn't even in high school yet.

i don't know the circumstances.
i don't know if she hooks up with random guys.
i don't know if she has a boyfriend.
i don't know if she was raped.

i just wish she would have told someone.
it isn't fair to the baby.

until this moment, I have not had an opinion on the abortion debate. It was one of the few things I honestly did not know where I stood on it.

but I do now.

Angel is too young to be a responsible mother.
This is no mystery.
That's life.

There is no way that this baby could have been born healthy unless she changed her mind and got help.
She couldn't do it alone.

Why should the baby have to pay for her mistake?

If I knew I could have saved that baby a life of medical problems and pain, I would have.

When an old person knows they are going to die, they just wish it would happen already. Why delay the inevitable? Why let the baby be born, suffer and then be sick for the rest of it's (short) life?

my name is leslie ann levine
my mother birthed me down a dry revine
my mother birthed me far too soon
born at nine and dead at noon

fifteen years gone now
i still wander this parapet
and shake my rattle bone
fifteen years gone now
i still cling to the petticoats
of the girl who died with me


The Lies We Weave Are Oh So Intricate

personally, i think pete wentz is a pompous ass.

i could go on all day about why i think this, but i am not going to.

but i can not deny his talent for writing lyrics.

i was one of the select few that listened to fall out boy before "sugar, we're going down"
did you know there was a fall out boy before that song?

well yeah, there was.

anyway, one of the reasons they are so popular (besides pete wentz's pompous-ness & nude photographs) is the quirky, catchy lyrics.

pete writes all the band's lyrics, while patrick does everything else.
but no one really cares about that (except for me and afore mentioned select few)

ANYWAY, yeah, Pete is either a really bad writer or a lyric genius (things like that are hard to discern).

"I got your love letters, corrected the grammar and sent them back.
It's true romance is dead, I shot it in the chest then in the head.">

-The Music Or The Misery

"When I said that I'd return to you I meant more like a relapse
Now and again I think "His and her's" "For better or worse"
But the only ring I want buried with me are the ones around my eyes"

-It's Hard To Say "I Do" When I Don't

"I'm the first kid to write of hearts, lies, and friends
And I am sorry my conscience called in sick again
And I've got arrogance down to a science

They call kids like us vicious and carved out of stone
But for what we've become, we just feel more alone
Always weigh what I've got against what I left
So progress report: I am missing you to death"

-I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy And I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me

Sometimes Pete's lyrics are downright ridiculous and dumb. Sometimes they don't make any sense. Sometimes they are funny. Sometimes they are ironic. But they are almost always metaphorical.

Lyricists are usually autobiographical writers, and I can imagine Peter being no exception. When he writes about his fucked up girlfriend leaving him because he is arrogant, I can see it happening.

"she took me down and said:
"boys like you are overrated. so save your breath."
loaded words and loaded friends
are loaded guns to our heads"

-Chicago Is So Two Years Ago

He also seems like the kind of guy who would sleep with numerous women because he wants to drown out the memories of the breaker of his heart.

"Sitting out dances on the wall
Trying to forget everything that isn't you
I'm not going home alone
Cause I don't do too well on my own"

-7 Minutes In Heaven

i think of Pete as any other guy who just wants to sleep with girls, make lots of money and see his name everywhere.

That isn't anything new. There are lots of people like that. But we all act on it in different ways.

I think Pete uses his autobiographical writing to make him seem like a troubled, transparent, sensitive soul.

However, I don't think troubled, transparent, sensitive souls date Ashlee Simpson and take pictures of their penis on their own phones.

Or maybe I am completely wrong and Pete Wentz is actually an amazing actor.


Like A Living Disaster

I lay quiet
waiting for her voice to say
"Some things you lose and some things you just give away"

Watch me lose her
It's almost like losing myself
Give her my soul
and let them take somebody else get away from me

Called her over
and asked her if she was improving
She said "feels fine" it's wonderful wonderful here

Curse me sold her
The poison that runs it's course through her
Pale white skin with strawberry gashes all over all over

Turn her over
A candle is lit, I see through her
Blow it out and save all her ashes for me

Scold me failed her
If only I'd held on tighter to her
Pale white skin that twisted and withered away from me away from me

I survived a suicide attempt about a year ago.

i am not going to preach to you about how my eyes are open to a brand new view of life.
sometimes i still wish i didn't survive.

but the hardest part was having to come home and see the disappointment in my friends and family.
i understand how they feel.

if you are scared for someone you know, talk to them. talk to someone.
tragedy can be prevented.

there have been several occasions when i have relapsed and thought about trying again.
my friends have saved me.

sometimes, all we need is someone to talk to us.
we need someone to listen to us.
we need someone to understand us.
we need a friend.


Please Don't Take Him Even Though You Can

i have always wished my name were Jolene.

you know, like the Dolly Parton song?

your beauty is beyond compare
with flaming locks of auburn hair
with ivory skin
and eyes of emerald green

that's me.

but lately, i have found myself in situations where i have the need to put myself in Dolly's shoes and sing to other girls.

ok, one specific girl
but you get the idea

she doesn't fit the description like me, she is actually pretty ugly.
and i didn't know about her until AFTER she stole my man.

but if i could go back in time, i would so sing this to her.

well I could easily understand
how you could easily take my man
but you don't know what he means to me, jolene

he helped me through a lot and i had liked him for a long time.
i sacrificed a lot to be with him.
but i guess i was replaceable.

i wonder if she even knew about me