Raven in Green again..

nothings changed the senates still corrupt & the emporer remains insane, and every day, is a new strain of slaughter, supply lines are less protected, evil on all sides, eye can smell the death on your flesh--creeping in, trapped within the twisting fingers of fear, and all eye see is ewe, that face, those eyes, burning like leprosy, eye can see u there poisoning the air, prostituing Nationalism, and eye want to attack, to rip out your heart and lay you flat on your back, and vomit a world of agony and truth into your throbbing illness of memory...and hate guides our way, eye long for the icy slap of a belt across my back, for the acceptance of death and blind cave war, the giving sleep of depression, the sweet elucidation of savage meaningless agression, chiseled in the meaty forearms of Mother Jupiter and his slave disciples, in the harem tents--outside, just beyond the edges--eye ride, a cycoptic mare in the fires of imagination. feeding my disease, a river of plagues, eye need something to remind me I'm still sinning that pain is important, that wurdz matter, that healing is possible, that eye am not alone ...in this --guard the houses--triple the watch,--Maidens, dig up your sorcery --sirens, sharpen your rocks..ewe will eat my pain again. whatever you need unite messiah ME

--Wurdz by Otep Shamaya

my rolling thought process.
November 29, 2003 12:50 a.m.

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Okay, so I have need to write and entry and I am annoyed by my need to write it. why can't I write about interesting like books or people or movies or something....interesting quorky things about life.

No...instead I'm using my diary for pathetic lame girl catharsis.

I've been having flashbacks to the inimate encounters I had with Jeff. remembering how it felt in his arms, the softness of his touch, how comfortable I felt, how safe.

I really want that back.

mmm the feel of his hand on my hip, my dragging my fingers though his hair.

The night we all went for coffee and Jeff and I stayed in the car for awhile after everyone else went in and we just stayed in the back seat,..him laying over my lap with his arm around my leg and knee, the 2 of us stretch out somewhat.

It is bothersome to me that nothing was ever wrong. When we were together there was always good. I can't think a back and view the situation as bad. So in my head I know that I can't have any of that back...and how logicly I can't trust him and know he'll only hurt me.....but I when I close my eyes I can feel his hand in my hand and his lips against mine,....and I can't help but wondering if all this "I'm good good for that" is just bullshit.

I mean I know that if he doesn't have the balls to make a legitimate attempt to get me back than he doesn't deserve me, but what if he really is sorry. what if I have convinced him that he can't get me back....and maybe I want him back. Should I try again? would the end justify the means?

For several reasons I've been thinking about getting him the Andrew solo cd for Christmas.

eh...by I say and think all this stuff, but end the end to I ever succumb? My last attempt at calling him was July 26. ...I've been saying since Augest that I'm going to call him and I haven't. Maybe all I really need to do is write a diary entry about how I want to call him, and then the itch is scratched for awhile....and then maybe some time down the road I might get pasted this situation. ...maybe even ask out the hottie barista here in town that I have a thing for. .....but the thing with that is I have to approch him in a manner which I'm not comfortable. As learned from B, if you want to hit on a barista you have to be blunt confident and memerable because they get hit on all day long.

I had considered (when I was feeling way more bold) saying to him after getting my coffee, "So my best friend's a barista and so I know you guys get hit on all time,...but thought you should know you're the sexiest guy I've encountered since I moved back, give me a call if you want to go out some time."

don't think I have the balls for that. So maybe I'll just sit in my room late at night and whine about being single.

Past

Present

Coffee

Zeldman

Otep

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