it's something about how she says "i love you"...

tell debbie, fuck dawn.

i woke up at 6:20 a.m. in so much pain that i wasn’t breathing.

i texted my mum because i could barely move, and i didn’t want her to hear me that way [not to mention i didn’t have the freaking air in the first place.]

i heard her phone go off, heard her open it.

i smiled in relief and waited patiently, finding a position that was least painful and doing my best to fight down the tears so she wouldn’t worry when she came in.

i don’t know why i trick myself into believing it matters.

she didn’t come in until 7:05 a.m.

as soon as she poked her head in, i asked her where she was. naturally, she didn’t hear me, because when i talk, no one ever really hears me anyway. plus, i was speaking super light, to conserve the air i had managed to work into my lungs. so instead of repeating myself, i told her about the text.

i saw her eyes.

we both knew.

she had opened it, and ignored it, because she didn’t want to get out of bed.

instead of being honest, she went in the opposite direction: she yelled at me. told me i knew i couldn’t text her in the morning, that i should have come and gotten her. i repeated that i couldn’t move.

not that it mattered, she was already walking away as i piped up to say it. i cursed under my breath. i couldn’t get up to continue a verbal defense.

for some minutes, she left and tended to my younger sister, who has found a way to be in her intense favor lately, in spite of a list of issues she has caused [trouble with cops, fights, SRS after us, et cetera.] then she walked in, dropped a pill into my hand, and walked out, bitching/griping about how much school i’ve missed.

when i tell you that i’ve been trying to get her to take me to get these problems fixed for years, and YEARS, that seems a little more hurtful, doesn’t it?

so i let the tears come, and texted my three best friends a brief summary message that described this [without the gorey details], and they did their best to comfort me. i would post the conversations, but seeing as how i am about out of ammo, this is where i’ll end it:

Dawn is my mother’s name. Debbie is my grandmother’s name. i am my meemee’s whole world. i am my mother’s elder child. the title, is a piece of one of the conversations i had. anyways, that’s about all the energy i had. i’m off to try and beat down this pain. <|3

-krisnar

and as for myself….

so much to tell yet so little comes to mind at this particular moment in time…

i will try and put some of my poetry on here, though i do not feel it meets the quality of Koshka’s and am constantly paranoid at the concept of plaigarism [<- yes, horrible speller]. i’ve gone through much over the past few weeks, but seeing as it has all stacked up on my shoulders, i’ve shut down and am unable to hang on to thoughts for very long. minus that, bought some soy milk, and some whole grain ritz, and i’m looking forward to cuddling up and a movie with my love, since she won’t be off six hours away [as planned] this weekend.

i shall try and write soon, though you may have vigilance in that from my koshka!

-krisnar

“Thoughts” {a poem by Koshka}

You hear that sound?

That faint sound of rain?

Those are my tears..

You see those lines?

Thin as pinstripes?

Those are my scars..

You know that smile?

The one I wear?

That is my masque.

You know that laugh?

The one so free?

That is my guise.

You know these words?

The ones your reading?

These are my thoughts.

-Koshka

ENTER: Koshka

my very special friend, whom i refer to as Koshka, has decided to contribute to my blog. yaaaaay. Koshka’s first message [which i apologize for broadcasting late]:

Hello Bloggers of the Internet. Call me Koshka. ^_^ My dear friend (owner of this beautiful blog) offered me to write for her… so here I am introducing myself. (No, Koshka is not my real name. I just prefer to remain anonymous)

I have no idea what I will write about, but if you have a requested subject or want to follow up on a topic of mine email me at staticdreams@gmail.com and I’ll see what I can do. Hell maybe we could start some kinda “Dear Abby” thing… he he but anyways… Just thought I’d introduce myself, and I’ve done that, so without further ado… Here is my first entry.

You ever feel like you’re surrounded by people who literally would rather see you in a holocaust gas chamber, than be happy? Personally, I’d almost take the poisonous death over dealing with their crap, but that isn’t an option because the chambers have been decidedly illegal for some time now. So it looks like civility is the only way to deal with them. But what is “civility” in a world where to be civil means not to be stabbed in an alleyway? Where has civility gone? Is it hiding behind child’s eyes? No! Even at a child’s age group, civility has been banished from our society!

  Sorry for my rant there… I had a moment…

And I’m a little nervous considering this is my first blog ever, so bear with me, kiddies.

Anyways back to my topic… civility. Webster (Dictionary guy) says civility is simply “politeness.” Okay thanks, Webster. That is really helpful. (pssssst I’m lying) To me civility is simply respect, if not kindness. Respect for feelings, property, relationships. Few people have civility ingrained in their head… our pro-gas chamber friends I mentioned before, certainly don’t. Now here’s the heart-string pulling part of my little thought process here…

Are you civil? And don’t start pointing fingers at Tammy Two-face and Bitchy Becky over there cause frankly I don’t give a crap what they do. You’ve read this far which makes me semi-part of your life now. And as a part of your life I want you to seriously stop and think about how YOU act… Just a thought: Try. Try to be a little more civil. Maybe we can actually achieve a Civilization. (civ·i·li·za·tion

noun 

1. 

an advanced state of human society, in which a high level of culture, science, industry, and government has been reached. 

2. 

those people or nations that have reached such a state. 

3. 

any type of culture, society, etc., of a specific place, time, or group: Greek civilization. 

4. 

the act or process of civilizing or being civilized: Rome’s civilization of barbaric tribes was admirable. 

5. 

cultural refinement; refinement of thought and cultural appreciation: The letters of Madame de Sévigné reveal her wit and civilization. )

Thought. Cultural appreciation. Refinement. High level of culture. It’s a strange concept, I know. A united group of people living under a united government with a united view of the world. Yeah, yeah, I know I’m pushing my luck, but it’s a nice dream. And everybody needs a dream sometimes… even lunatic, like me.

Well kiddies, that’s all I’ve got for you for now… you’ll hear from me again soon….

With Love,

Koshka

bringing around my horizons.

started the new year. 

started it fighting.

last night there was literally an hours-long bitchfest between the two households [ours and the next door neighbors’].

not only was i blamed, i was insulted beyond all measure.

and i had nothing to do with it. 

started this semester basically flunking, due to being sick the last three weeks of the first semester. minus THAT note:

i got new art supplies and a coffee maker, bought myself something to listen to musik on and started painting again- i’m in a HUGE art groove. 

the universe can be RIGHT again.

so, a tardy toast to the new year:

may you ALL survive it, unless the world ends <|3.

oh, and PS….

i just want to cut.