At the beginning, I did not mind walking to work. Those two miles to-and-from were good to me. Now, it is the most unwanted part of the day.

Perhaps, if we lived in a nicer neighborhood, I'll be okay with it. If I didn't have to deal with the stares and voices of men or women, I'll be okay. Now, it terrifies me. Every time I walk past that courthouse and their buses full of men and women, I'm afraid of what will happen.

I ought not to fear; but I do.
Especially at night, I fear.

Now, I have to leave two hours before I start work; so I can avoid that night.

I have been thinking of quitting. I am tired of that job. I am tired of the people taking advantage of my altruism and my unwillingness to say no. Some knows how to make me feel bad.

I know I should be firm and honest with them. I can be angry and they know how to soften me with a sad or pitiful story.

I am tired of it all.

I am somewhat jealous. I hate that. I am not a jealous person; well, that is what I thought.

On my dj, I put that 'it saddens me to think of school', and it does. However, it is not sadness, it's envy. It's what I had and what I do not have now. I should not think about that, I should not even think about that, because it is not like that.

I sound ungrateful. I am happy that I am where I am, but I see all those people I knew from elementary, middle, and high school take what they have for granted.

I have been feeling down on myself for not finishing this essay/research. I've had ideas, but I threw them away because a) I was bored of it or b) because I could not narrow my search or I just didn't find much interest in it, so that brings me back to a.

Now, I'm thinking of a new subject; but I keep telling myself to stick with what I have for now, since I do have research on it (the Sino-Japanese war - first and second). I was thinking just staying in that, but now I want to connect with other wars, such as the Holocaust and whatnot. I don't even know what I'm doing! I should just stay in one topic, and quit broadening it and giving myself more of a headache over it.

I was thinking, "if I were in high school, would it have been easier?"

Things to do and others.

I can hold so much hate and bitterness in the heat of anger but once that flame is tamed my room is overfilled with forgiveness.

I have been upset and angry over my step dad, but somehow, I find it in my heart to forgive a human being whom I can hate so much. It takes a split second for me to push all that unwanted bitterness and have it all be just a memory; a distant one.

I can find so much blame for him, but I can never despise him, or anyone.


I know I have sounded very dolorous in my past entries; I can stoop so low it's pathetic.


The former entry with the poem entitled "Declare Whore" is art. It's provocative and honest. I love it. I admire it/the writer. Beautiful.
Or, I should not say beautiful, since it is about sexual degradation and exploitation of women... it's art, and I love art. It is a breath of clean air that I have been wanting to breathe.



Things I want to do this year:

• watch a ballet
• write more poems
• begin writing a short story (s)
• watch a ballet
• go to a poetry reading
• go see a poetry reading with Derrick Brown & Amber Tamblyn
• visit an art gallery
• watch a ballet
  

Declare Whore

This is not mine.

from here: http://amtam.ipbhost.com/index.php?showtopic=12765
By Amber Tamblyn

DECLARE WHORE


"When I said drop me off,
I meant from your cliffhanger answer.
I’m tired of hanging on you like mold to pond scum.

Do you love me?
Like a trading card that makes your collection complete?
Because your silence is worse than any
“don’t tell mommy about grab tush” game
that was ever not told by a 6 year old.

You make my feelings a reality show,
not worth a second season.

I say, “They’re real!”

you say,
“An actress is far from real.”

We fight like red ants caught in my cigarette carton-

Who’s gonna smoke who?!?!

Well baby,
Round 2 will be point blank
not point made.

Your stain is a rug burn
I clean up on my knees
with my mouth.

Why can’t you see that
I am your tetherball baby
and I will always come back to you
when you hit me.

Why can’t you admit it?
Our kind of sex makes animals screw like it’s humanistic.

Silence, is a prize fighter
who cheats in the ring.

So lets take it there,
like a black cat to a tire wheel,
Your streets are lit to shucks and I am drunk driving
through your spin zones.

There is no problem with your fingers smelling like
my kind of cheap red wine.
When opened, I ripen.
When forgot, I go BAD.

The possibilities, are endless.

If I were a Muslim woman,
I would invent the crotchless Burka for YOU.
“EASY ACCESS, THAT’S EASY ON THE EYES.”

But instead,
I’d rather put your full name on the tag
and pray to Allah that you have a real good hiding place.

Getting you to surrender to a girl who wishes she could respect herself,
is like getting me to file pornography under,
“pornography”
on my hard drive.

Why cant you just support this cooperative, nihilistic need to sling cum shots all over my body like silly puddy?

Why wont you just verbally rape me like I never asked for it!

I’ll huff and puff and blow
your brick wallpaper down.

If It’s a slut’s dance card you're holding that pencil for,
Then I declare Whore."