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ATTACK OF THE FRUIT FLIES [entries|friends|calendar]
sparks fly

[ website | evolve, little woma n ]
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[05 Dec 2005|02:20pm]
One year.


365 days. The first anniversary of many to come. And I am not afraid. I am not afraid.

Have I really grown this much? In spirit, in body, in mind? Am I really able to say that I am now a survivor. That I have been through hell and then I have emerged victorious at the end? That I am CLEAN, I am STRONG, I am not a victim, but one who has seen the dark side of sex and lived to tell the tale.

I am not afraid to speak.

Yes, one year ago I was raped by a 21 year old boy named Kirk Cena.

In a way, I am relieved that this day is almost over. Although the official time hasn't exactly come about yet, I am of a sound mind and I have no worries. I'm ready for anything.

I remember it occured between 3:30 and 4:00 and I am prepared.

And honestly? I'd like to thank him for finally pushing my mind and my body into a state of psychosis. Without that push I don't think I could have hit bottom and made my way to the top.

And finally? Everything's a little clearer now, a little fuzzy around the edges, but definitely clear.
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[02 Nov 2005|06:21pm]
So, I'll admit something.

I like secrets.

I like them a lot.

I have some of my own, I guess you could say.

And I would write them down and post them out for the world to say, but here's the thing:

I'm scared my secret would be considered
less because even though it's still a secret, I've come to terms with it.

I'm gonna make a new journal.

And I'm gonna delete this one.

Life is too short, and frankly? My head is too big.

But to you guys who still sit patiently on my friends list? Thanks.

[24 Oct 2005|11:08am]
Goal: Fight the future.

[11 Oct 2005|04:46pm]
I will not lie in this instance.

I do not want to be in Stroud on December 5th.

I do not want to be away from Stroud on December 5th.

Maybe I'll just sleep and wake up on the 6th.

But sleeping is what got me in the situation in the first place.


[10 Oct 2005|02:01pm]
I have come to the conclusion that:


There is no relief in relief
just practice makin' me perfect
at pain.



Justice is not justice until
it brings them back.
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[08 Oct 2005|02:50pm]
I am not religious.

re·li·gious (r-ljs)
1.Having or showing belief in and reverence for God or a deity.
2.Of, concerned with, or teaching religion: a religious text.
3.Extremely scrupulous or conscientious: religious devotion to duty.

Religious is too wide a term, too focused on having the belief instead of living the belief. Living the belief is what guides me. To see it, to feel it, to have not only the "faith" but the have the presense of God. One loses their religion easily. Too easily. One day they wake up and find themselves slipping, find the last grasps of it gliding evenly between each of their fingers (dropping silently, dropping without notice; horror, but no absense of relief) and in their mind they agree it's okay to go on existing without Church and without Religion and without that ridiculous faith in an invisible, constantly out-of-the-office God. He doesn't answer prayers anyway.

Once you lose faith that He will,
then He won't.

The worlds image of God is sometimes extravagant, sometimes conservative, sometimes homosexual, sometimes female, sometimes a vocubulary word, a word to cry out when being beaten and robbed.

I have God.
Not religion.

...deliver such a one to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, that his spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus. 1 Cor 5:5

My story, my history, my freaking PROLOGUE to this life I'm leading now is a horror story. I won't lie to you, I won't try to hide the things I did, what was done to me, what was taken from me, what I took on a regular basis. I won't hide the lies that fell from my mouth to hurt others, to get what I wanted, to manipulate situation after situation. I guess everyone has one. A horror story, that is. That's why I look, that's why I put myself to be shot-down and hurt just so I can hear from their own mouths. You never try to think about the things that will break a person and turn them on their side, leave them screaming helplessly in the dark for hours, unable to control the SCREAM and the FEAR that just won't let them sleep. You never imagine the pain that starts in the stomach and eats away at every crevice of your body because your nerves and you mind simply can't reverse the image and the knowledge that once upon a time you were getting high (guilty) with a guy you thought you knew (guilty) and you lay down to MAKE THE SPINNING ROOM STOP SPINNING AND WITHOUT EVEN THINKING HE IS SHOVING HIS DICK INTO YOUR VAGINA AND YOU'RE SO FREAKING HIGH YOU CANT MAKE HIM STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP.

And later, when he's done, he lights you a cigarette and puts his arm around your shoulders and asks you if you know he'd never hurt you right? And this turns your world upside down and you don't know you don't know you shake your head yes and you walk out the door with your cigarette and WHERE THE HELL WAS GOD THEN?

Four months of insanity - literal, spiritual, physical, mental insanity - and a woman came to me promising me sleep.

Three weeks after that I was in love with the idea of God.
Days later I was in love with God.

And I may fall, I may be imperfect, I may slip and smoke that cigarette and want to lay that guy or girl and I may do it. But I will never forget the rescue.

The destruction of the flesh for the salvation of the soul.

And it was worth it.

Can I hear those words coming out of my mouth? Can I feel them starting at my womb and circling, biting, tearing their way to the surface? Can I really, really, really, REALLY mean it?

It was worth it.

[05 Oct 2005|02:10pm]
Trust me.

The mind is a different being in itself.

And the disappointment would be too much.
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[05 Oct 2005|02:02pm]
The front looks exactly like the back. Smooth, worn, a variety of colors splayed carelessly across layers and layers of voiceless paper.

Sometimes she wishes she could change it, wishes she could embrace it and breathe it, taking it deep within her - thoughts that she no longer possessed, no longer wanted to possess, no longer craved possessing.

Fear was not guiding her, but blinding her, as always, as before and she hid her face in the coffinless grave, preferring instead to scrape dirt from her fingernails than to focus on how gorgeous her fingers really were.

And yet, the truth that insisted on being revealed was nowhere to be seen, lying instead in a corner, shriveled from abandonment, hated from the inside out. And nothing could take away the slightest tinge of guilt,
as if guilt were accessible at the moment.

Silence, and perhaps she hadn't taken that breath yet. Maybe she paused, maybe she melted, maybe she could not longer find happiness but she could definitely find a comfortable bed to sleep in.

[02 Oct 2005|03:16pm]
And I will wait on you, I will wait on youCollapse )
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[02 Oct 2005|02:50pm]
The extreme has taken place.

Maybe silence is the best answer in this instance.

Can't figure out my fingers so I might as well tear them off?

That doesn't make sense, and yet, I understand it. It feels so right to put that analogy into our "relationship". We are so connected, so dependant, so...forced to rely on each other. We have no choice in this matter and there shouldn't even be a question of it.

Don't rip me off because you can't figure me out.

You need me.

[28 Sep 2005|03:57pm]

miniscule hopings
in an isolated existance.

and my boobs are way to big for my body.

not that it matters.

sam broke up with me.

But a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.

i wish i could convince you that i mean that.
i wish i could cinvince myself that i mean that.

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[27 Sep 2005|02:21pm]
This sad excuse for a job is consuming my creativity.

And I by no means am trying to put an explanation underneath - - -


There is a dry spot spreading like cancer throughout my writings and I can't wet it again without the spark of dust, without the gene of sweet, fairy-like attributes. Oh, how I miss the hours I would spend dancing about my room, entranced in the simple pleasure I derived from its twirling, light atmosphere.

I used the term fairy loosely, hoping soundlessly not to offend any persons - ignoring all laughter and banter about the way it could be used before.

To put on wings, sweet, sweet, miserable wings and spin spin spin, light-footed and glorious and I miss it I miss it.

Too little time to dance.

And the world is a sadder place in my head,
thank you very much,

(And I almost laugh at the sheer absurdity of the last word. SONIC has depleted my resources?!)

Joaquin says hola.
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[19 Sep 2005|06:54pm]
It's funny that as the world revolves around
my pretty little head
and my pretty fragile WINGS - (flutter, flutter) -
the words seem to disappear beneath my heaviness and i seem to forget over and over and over and over again that life is stretched beyond the simple existance of my elastic little mind.

I wish to know people, to grasp them, but when faced with their fancies - not their pain nor their shadows, no I can handle all that shizzle - but their fancies, their fantasies, their happiness, I am put off by the simple look of pleasantry shining in their God-given eye color. And I am SICKENED that to reach the world I have to reach through all the accomplishments that I have never received on my volition, but on that of others.

I can handle it from the men, from the guys that will give and take my joy and my hurt, who will give and take my sex and my choice in the matter, because I have taken it second after second in this life and it is in my second nature to block out the violation of it.

But to take the JOY and RELIEF of people who I merely want to understand in and out and to wallow in their shallow feelings of COMFORT?! Can I accomplish such things on my own, as a mere seventeen year old fairy? Where can I go, what can I see, what can I do when what I'm trying to achieve in the first place is ONLY their fears and hurts and rapes and tears.

It's hard for me to realize that they - that you - will have emotions beyond that of black.

I live my life for God, but inside my head sometimes I let myself become confused in the tangle of thorns.
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[30 Aug 2005|04:42pm]
pitiful, so pitifulCollapse )
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[26 Aug 2005|04:04pm]
Fantastically breathtaking, huh?

Image hosted by Photobucket.com
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[24 Aug 2005|04:13pm]
fly, fly, fly
air, substance, sound, relief
RUN RUN (you're running anyway)
dance the forgetful away
dance the meaningless away
for not to slice the skin
but to charge the skin

electric, tingling
fly, fly, dance, twirl

just to be a ballerina, mademoiselle.

[24 Aug 2005|03:35pm]
Undeniably intrigued by this revolution.

ah to be the tender human i strive to be.

sparks fly
and i see you there
in the glow
and it fades
away ...to be david crowder.

Post a secret anonymously.

IP logging is turned off.

Say anything you want. Absolutely anything.

[24 Aug 2005|02:50pm]
sparks fly and i see you there, in the glow and it fades away ♥Collapse )

[24 Aug 2005|02:40pm]
Sam and Brent started school monday. And Jen left today for VBI.

I'm down here, celebrating and cursing life as an Ardmoron, having little or not involvement in their oh so grown-up lives.

Wish I were a grown up. Wish I weren't on the shallow end of seventeen, having only just jumped out of the sixteen pool 9 days ago. Wish my senior year weren't being spent unceremoniously in Unhappyland, but I digress.

Fact: Unhappyland is worldly called Ardmore Oklahoma.

So, actually doing one of those semi-normal entries that people habitually skip over is quite enlightening.

Fact: Watching X-Files.

Secret: In my underwear.

Opinion: X-files should be deified.

Sam is my boyfriend.

His reign on earth has been helped by his long, curly blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. It's sad that I am attracted to him, being a cliched male and all.

We're not intimate, but this is good. My past supports me fully - being that my sexual promiscuity and its consequences have left me emotionally crippled. Heh.

But anyway, Sam loves me.

Whether I love him or not is to be determined.

Went to get my learners permit yesterday. Failed quite miserably and paid $25.50 for it. Miserable permit failure, thy name is Kera.

Good day, cruel injustice. Good Day.

[23 Aug 2005|06:59pm]
Cannot bring myself to post obligatory add-me-please-i'm-lonELy-here-all-by-myself-and-quite-desperate-for-friendship community post that will get me, no questions asked, the obligatory friends that aren't friends but people who want comments on their oh-so-witty journal that is identical to mine.

However, I'm a proud woman who keeps her pretty little nose in the air at all times.

This is what I'm aiming for:

Random sarcastic people, possibly tispy, happening to wander across my journal in one of those fate things. They see me, they love me, I get a new friend!

Yay for friends. Yay.



Ah, good day lonely eljayers across the world. Good day.
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