I find it hard to say the things i need to say, and thats why i always write.  when i speak, it all comes out like a joke in real life because i understand pain more than leads the eye.  everyone endures pain, but some ppl endure pain with grace, or just would rather see u smile.  i have been that person that takes life so seriously that it breaks my heart.  i feel like right now in my life i am hitting a bottom. the only thing that pulls me through is being strong for others and picking up the pieces that loved ones cant.  i embrace my pain, it helps me to figure out who i am and what i stand for.  everyday i soul search to become a woman that can inspire others to be and say how they feel, regardless of what the outside world does or says about me.  thats who i want to be.  it comes from a constant struggle of feeling confined to a society that tries to mold me into what is easier for them to deal with.  avoiding conflict.  lauryn hill quotes hit home.  “be honest, brutally honest.  thats whats going to maintain relationships.”  they say that when your mind body and soul meets, this is when u will be who u really are inside. take care of ur body, stimulate your mind, and nourish ur spirit.   i have a lot of work to do.  and something tells me ill never be satisfied and settle for who i have become because we can always become a better being.  the more i experience life, the more i learn and have to offer.  surround urself with ppl who are passionate and who give constructive critisizm because without these we would never change.

I was doing the dishes and overheard a covering your cleavage attachable piece infomercial.  Why cant we be like the Spanish and the Europeans or perhaps the rest of the world and embrace the beauty of the human body?  It seems to me that only certain religious groups, horny perves, or insecure, jealous assholes have made it innapropriate and shameful.  Being a woman with bountiful curves, I have grown up learning to be ashamed and embarassed because family, friends, and complete horny strangers have made me the center of attention for it.  I am who I am and I dont hide it.  Maybe you should hide your beautiful face.

i sat down today at the dinner table with my sister today.  she said, “so how are u doing?  u seem like ur doing really good now.”  my mom had said the same thing to me earlier. Instead of feeling grateful that i was asked how i was doing, i had  anger already built up that they assumed i was doing great when i really just feel like im dying inside.  all i could do was say ” how do u think im doing?  look at my life!!!”  after i said it, my sister turned to me and said “well im sorry i even fucking asked, im not doing that great either my fucking husband died.”   what a horrible FUCKING conversation.  all i could do was stand up and walk away and sit on the couch wishing i had some1 else to talk to, and wishing i had better words that didnt hurt any1 to describe how i was feeling, i wish i hadnt snapped :(.  i know its shitty, but how in the fuck do u think im doing?  im jobless, and  im waiting for doomsday, the day i go to jail and lose a year of my adult youth.  no way to escape life.  ive been in institutions, rehab, women’s shelters, in jail, and i know whats in store for me.  or do i?  i walk around trying to make every single day out to be like everything is fine, i laugh make jokes, listen to soulful music, help clean and cook around the house, and i try to find peace within so i can live with myself, and so that i dont hurt other ppl… just like every1 else in the world.  im trying to make my last days of freedom count.  dont ask me how im doing please i beg u!! …  because i cannot lie.  i am sorry. when u ask me how im doing let me tell u how im doing and expect nothing but the truth, dont assume im feeling great because i look great which makes me feel worse??  thats all that i have that is mine and mine only, my feelings, and no1 can take that away from me.  ever.  i wear a mask.  no1 wants to be around a debbie downer, and i dont want the world to hate me.  and  even after knowing the way i reacted to my sister was not right, i still feel on the defense, im still offended.  so i guess i dont know what im sorry for.  im sorry that our lives arent different, instead of being full of tragedy and deciet, instead of being full of fighting and poverty.  im sorry that our lives arent at least somewhat stable or content.  every1 walks around in some sort of suffering, and i must be weak, very weak.  because all of the days of my life i see the strong walking around walking tall and moving on, living to the best of their ability and when some1 asks them how they are doing they say good and how are u?  im glad there are strong ppl out there to pretend like their world is perfect for the sake of others.  we all have enough burdens on our shoulders.  only the weak tell u the sad truth.  im doing horrible today and i dont care how ur doing, because if u tell me the truth anout how ur doing today, it just may load my burden just an ounce too much and i just may fall over and have a heart attack!! lol  i suppose that my emotions are getting the best of me right now, , but if i led my life by logic i would have no soul: in certain spiritual, philosophical, and psychological traditions, is the incorporeal essence of a person or living thing.  my soul is what makes me who i am and i believe is what determines my fate.  my destiny is already predetermined.  my soul comes from within and reaches along side my heart.  who i am inside.  and for that im not ashamed.  its ok to be broken sometimes.  but for the sake of others, i am sorry

now that ive played all my fun and games

there comes a time when it goes down the drain.

and now i look back and wonder if all the fun was worth it.

i never understood those serious ppl that only do what their suppose to

with corks up their asses and always stressed out

how can they get through life learning with out messing up?

its like they came out of the womb a clown,

with their effertless smile painted on their face.

i never took life seriously because maybe the truth hurts too much

life and everything was a joke because i watched it break all our hearts

i guess i am yin and u are yang

i had to much fun while u played ur cards right

i wonder if any1 is the line down the middle

or if thats what we all have in common to learn in this life?

we all hurt ourselves and live in our fears.

not realizing that we are the ones that cause our own tears.

so lets all be sweet to each other and try to understand

that in this life we are all in it together.

im only a fool when im scared.  being scared is a handicap.  which makes me a handicap fool.  so if you love me for who i am then i appreciate that :) 

i havent gone to bed yet.  i was just thinking too much.  seriously?  i consider myself pretty fuckin boring.  but when i talk about my life out loud along with my stupid crazy sense of humor, and combine all that shit with other ppls lives?  im pretty sure in the past 24 hours ive talked about my art, led n fire hoola hoops, dreads, changing my friends, about boys, about my niece and nephew being so adorable, about my crazy mother and her venus retrograde, about partying with biker gangs n strippers, ppl fighting at the bar, pimping hoes, langerie lube wrestling parties, gothic naked chicks, places ive been while traveling on tour with ratdog, mountain mansions ive stayed in, swimming in waterfalls, i have had the most interesting life i could ever imagine…  and its not even over yet?!?!

so i partied and danced the night away drinking my famous drink the long island and did shots all night like i was a fucking go go dancer while watching a reggae band called brimstone at leroys (the biker bar on 20).  all of my fav girls were there, kym, mel, laura and i even made some new sista friends.  AND then it happened,  the beginning of the end of the rest of my fun filled party, i ran outa cancer sticks, cigarettes …    i always gotta be so giving and give away all my shit cuz my friends barely ever have anything.  i love u guys but ur all fucking leaches sometimes jesus christ.  so my wasted ass decided hey im gonna go run to the gas station and get cigs, and BAM next thing i know im hitting a cement wall on 80-94 and upside down in my car.  blacked out dont remember even the drive inbetween leroys and central avenue.  ( a long fucking way btw for a blacked out highway driver)  i snap out of my black out, i say “ow”  and without freaking out or crying i unbuckle my seat belt, im laying on the ceiling of my car, i look around and roll down my passenger seat window.  i poke my head out to see if any cars are coming at me, and i crawl out the passenger window.  next thing i remember is a girl asking me questions and giving me a sweater.  i look down and i have white shoes on.  i dont know how they got there or where they came from because i was wearing sandals when i left for the bar.  a cop walks up to me and asks me where i came from.  i tell him i dont know even though i do cuz i dont suck cop dick.  he asks me if i want to call my family and i call my dad looking around dreaming and hoping he’ll pick me up on the side of the highway and save me from the fucking hell ive built for myself and to save me from going to jail.  i say “dad i dont know whats going on all i know is my car is upside down can u please come get me”  as i cry.  my dad tells me calmly ” no hun, i think ur going to jail.”  somehow my dad already knew what was going on. suddenly everything thats going on starts sinking in.  the cop tells me aright common im gonna take u to the hospital to make sure ur alright.  i say ok and i follow him to the car.  we do a u turn on the highway and as we pull away he tells me, “look at ur car, i dont even know how u survived”,  i look over and my car is upside down and smashed like a crushed can.  he tells me ” u could have killed some1, u should be dead right now.  do u know what u blew?”  i said “no”.  he goes, ” u blew a 2.5”  i dont even remember blowing into his fucking  stupid ass machine that looks like a stupid kazoo.  next thing i know, i wake up in the hospital.  the nurse is sticking needles in me and putting all these weird sticky things all over me.  i pass out again, i wake up and im looking around listening to all the nurses and the cop make jokes.  i look down at the needle and all the sudden i feel pure rage, i realize im going to jail and i rip out all my IV’s and jump up out of the hospital bed.  i look around and listen to see where every1 is so that i can run.  all i can think to myself is im not going to jail again.  im not going back to jail.  i cant go back to jail.  im so fucked.  i hear the nurse say” shes ripping out her IV’s.”  they come rushing in.  she asks me why i ripped them out and i say cuz i dont know what the fuck u guys are doing to me and im scared.  she says that she is trying to help me and that she already explained to me what they were doing to me.  i yell at her “well im sorry but i dont even remember that im fucking drunk.”   so she puts the IV’s back in and comes in the room with all these papers to sign.  i start crying and yelling ” how are u guys going to make me sign this i cant sign this i dont even know what the fuck this says or what its for!!”  she tells me its so they can do a cat scan so i sign it.  they roll me away in the bed and put me under this god awful space machine where it moves my body up and down 5 times then they tell me that i was ok.  so the cop cuffs me.  i black out again and next thing i know im in jail, they have me take off all my jewelery and that strange random girl’s clothes and shoes.  i hear the guy inmates trying to hollar at me in the holding cell and i turn around and flick them off.  they bust out laughing.  i turn around and walk up to H7. the door opens and i walk straight to the only open spot in the corner, just enough room to lay down since there were 22 girls in there.  ( we counted later on cuz it was so crowded)  i lay down and im right underneath the air conditioner.  im shivering uncontrollably to keep warm and i hear the girls in the backround talking about me.  “ is she having a seizure?”   another chick says ”she just got out the hospital, she has a hospital bracelet on”   i turn around i say “no im just cold”  and i lay back down.  im the only white chick in there, im outnumbered and it scares me.  all the sudden this girl puts her blanket over me.  i turn around without my hard ass game face on and i look at her in the eyes and i say “thank u very much”, and i lay back down to block out the world and go to dreamland where reality doesnt exist.  next thing i know i wake up to them saying my name on the intercom.  it takes me a second to wake up and the girls are in the backround saying “wake up wake up!”   i get up i rub my face and say “oh shit”  really loud.  they all start laughing.  i walked up to the door with a smirk on my face cuz i know im a fuckin comedian no matter what i do.  i walk out they tell me where to go to change my clothes, i go in they tell me take off my clothes and take a shower, i take off my shirt, undo my bra, i look down and my whole huge ass f cup booby is back and blue and purple and the bruise covers my whole titty.  i say “holy shit” out loud.  then i look over and my arm is the same.   i look down and my lower belly is the same.  i take off my pants and my knees are banged up.  i feel aorund my head and my head has a big bump on my upper forehead/ hairline.  i go and turn my shower on. i grab my soap and what i thought was a wash cloth.( later on it ended up being underwear that i needed considering i never wear any) i wash myself.  im so grateful that the water is hot unlike the other times ive been to jail.  i stay in there as long as i possibly can its so warm and i dont want to go back to the cell.  they open the window and yell “are u done yet!”  i yell back “almost”  so i stay in just a minute longer and get the courage up to finally get out and step onto the cold cement floors.  i get dressed and i feel so much better.  i turn in my clothes and they give me a blanket i sigh in relief.  warmth is key in jail, its always cold there.   cold floors cold beds cold walls cold faces cold hearts no souls.  blanket good.  some kind of comfort.  the only security and comfort u get in jail.  like the little yellow blanky i use to have when i was a kid.  i clutch onto it and go back to my cell. i go in and sit down in my old same spot. as i listen to all the girls cracking jokes and naming celebrity look alikes as ppl walk by i read on the wall in huge letters, “PREPARE TO BE TORTURED, BE STRONG”  i remember this from the last time i was locked up in lake county jail about 3 months before that.  ii never understood it because i hadnt stayed in there for more than one day before.  i thought to myself, it cant be that bad,  its not like they are trying to kill us, what fucking pussies…  so slowly throughout the day the girls are weeded out, either going to different jails or getting bailed out.  different girls come and go some go to court and come back crying and some come back celebrating cuz they get to go home.  i sleep the entire first 2 days im there.  i dont care to hear girls lying about what they are in there for, claiming they got arrested for prostituting when they were just walking down the street with their friends. we all know they are all lies.  every1 is claming they are innocent.  its annoying.  one lady is crying because she didnt sign the back of a fake check but they still arrested her when she went to cash it.  boooo fuckin whoooo.  i lay back down try to sleep.  but instead i end up being nosey and listening to what all the bitches did to get arrested.  on e was in there for stabbing her husband 7 times, for the thrid time in a row that year.  at least 4 of the girls are in there for prostituting, one is in there for a dui like me, one for setting a place on fire, one for being ugly blah blah blah.  theres always the same characters in jail.  we all knicknamed each other which was kinda funny.  there was the kim kardashian, who cries because her boyfriend broke up with her and he owns 3 resteraunts and shes rich and spoiled and is too good to be there for a dui.  then there’s terry terrified who cries and pleads shes innocent for days, tells her story fifty times, and wants every1 to feels sorry for her.  then theres the lesbian stripper chick jada, who works the crowd, shes a ppl pleaser and knows how to get what she wants.  im getting tired so ill tell u the rest tomorrow lol sorry.

So yesterday was the anniversary of my brother in laws date in heaven.  One year ago yesterday, was one of the most traumatic experiences my family has ever experienced as long as we have stepped foot on this earth.  Out of no where, Justin went to heaven.  He was my sister’s soulmate, an amazing father, friend, and singer. He was like my brother.  We fought, we laughed, and we had each other’s backs to the end.  But since he has been gone, the world seems empty.  Justin was a big part of our lives.  i wish there were more ppl like him.  life is still weird without him like when i go to jamies the house it feels empty, the drum circle seems empty, when i watch tim play ghanges river all by himself at the bar its empty, family parties and holidays are empty, the kids having a father figure around, empty . i feel like a little kid about it but its really fucking sad.  my sister takes depression meds and cries herself to sleep, or she walks around like a zombie.  karalena asks me to draw her dads truck and tells me her dady is in heaven.  

these are my flashbacks.  first it went that i lost my job, then after justin died, ofcourse being the black sheep of the family, every1 took all of their sadness and anger out on me.  they were upset that ppl found out about justins death through facebook and all kinda stupid ass shit to defect off of why they were REALLY upset.  and that was ok by me, i took it because my aunt told me to hold it together and to be strong for the family no matter what happened or how much it hurt.  so i did just that.  i watched the kids throughout the day while my sister worked and whenever she needed me to be there.  and then at night, i went out and drank all my sorrows away.  id come home at 5 in the morning, sleep for an hour and start my day all over again.  no1 took into consideration that maybe i needed a shoulder to cry on too.  when i cried my sister would look at me in disgust, as if i had no reason to cry.  after all i hadnt lost my husband my soul mate and my childrens father.  it was hard because i lived with them, i was there for every moment of his sickness and death, i was there for some of jamie and justin’s most treasured moments and even their worst.  like when they got married, when jack was born, when me and tim took jamie and justin to the allman brothers concert for their anniversary,  when they would sing jack johnson and make banana pancakes in the morning, when justin would make the kids and all of us laugh uncontrollably at family parties, when they faught like cats and dogs and i could hear and feel all their pain, when justin and tim would sing and play music at the bar, i was there to fight with jamie and justin and to talk crap about how crazy my mom was lol.  me and justin use to sit in the garage and smoke cigarettes and talk about life, we were outside and went to coachlite when the tornado hit chesterton.  justin would tell me if he approved of my boyfriends or not.  i was there too in justin’s life.  and today i look back and see how his absence on earth has changed our lives.  not for the better, and thats the truth.  but i guess its better to burn out than fade away … rip justin.  these tears are for ur date in heaven.  i miss u we all miss u very very much.  our lives feel empty and will never be the same :(