Laura They make me what I am then hate me for it they take my dignity... like they ever had any of there own... I love myself to spite them but inside they make me hate those frightened creatures in my mind they are parts of me sad and withered and all alone in their forest of hate I make them hurt by not allowing them to be free 010317
trixie Do I lose my dignity to send a fucking Instant Message to him? What is so wrong about that? Why can't I say hello. Even though I've sworn him off. He's never online. Although he did ask me for Vicodin. Oh well. No, I mean it was bad. Bad bad thing. Never should have known him. Spent a whole year obsessing about him and then I wrote him off and a pig and a partial fag. Fag. God, he doesn't even pay attention to me. Why doesn't he? I'm perfect for him. Fucking perfect. Asshole. Notice me for god sakes I'm your woman. I haven't even heard from you for months. This is how it is, we'll have a nice day, magical and then no nothing for months except when he wants to read mother fucking Kubrick. Every god damned time he goes straight for the mother fucking bookshelf. I'm more than interesting literature, dude. You need to wake up and see that you are wasting all this time on reading my shit when I was there too. Jeez. Now I don't even know what you're doing. Who the hell knows. Are you gonna blow up and change the world or die in the bottom of some hotel room with a needle in your arm and my fucking Stanley Kurbick book up your ass? Are you blue eyes gonna be wasted on balmy mornings at a typewriter with some fishy bimbo in the back and a movie deal in the works that will never fall through? I bet your hair falls out and you get ugly and fat and never are happy even because you were never happy in the fisrt place. I could tell. Oh yeah, I could fucking tell. I knew everything about you and how you worked and what turned you on and what you wanted to be and how you made yourself you. God. Was it too damn much to see a female and clean version of your goddamn prodigy self walking around that you couldn't handle it? Just give me that. You can tell me, I don't even care anymore because I've moved on from you. I'm more prolific and cooler and better and funnier and nicer and braver and just everything more than I was when I knew you. And that's just that. I don't care if you're in Chicago or Toronto or whatever. I don't even care if Lorne Michaels and the ghost of fucking John Belushi come and lick your balls and cut their throats out for you. I don't, I don't even care. You can make it big, just do it, and show the world and be true and funny and sad and a tragic person and real life and then get in line to die the way Chris Farley did and become a number in the fucking lists of sad assed comedians who died with coke in their teeth. Just do it. Become that person because you already are. And then look at me, that poor sad sack of shit you used to know who couldn't tell you the time of fucking day, just look at me and go, well I guess I was the better one wasn't I? Just fucking tell that to my face. Just look at me and be like hey you, I'm better and people like me more and you are nothing. No hall of fame for you and no audience and no nothing. You just say that to me. I want you to. Fucking slap me in the eye and spit on me. Just do it you sack of crap, I want you to. I want you to tell me I'm shit. And you know why? Why would I want that? Me, the fucking stuck up Jewish American Princess with fucking stars up her cunt and falling out of her ass. I want that because you do not know me. You have no fucking idea about me, I'm like that black shark in your fucking pond and you fucking ran my friend. You ran and I wantd you to stay and I told you to, I did but you got the hell out of me and my life and even your own life. You fucked it all up and I'll be damned if I see you behind a mic and making money and being someone in this world mr. fancy pants. And don't chick flick me. You just better wish you climbed the fuck under a hole the day you decided you were the second coming of Richard Pryor buddy. I'm no longer just that chick you once new and your lousy new york connection. I can yes and too buddy and fucking working like you aint see. So stop it with this whole dissin me thing because I'm not going to coward under you and be your straight man. Oh no. I'm not going to just let you put me in my place. It's over. Me being put the fuck away is over. I can't let that happen. I'm kinda sorry but c'mon, it just can't be. I'll cut your feet off at your dick before you walk all over me. And if that aint dignity, what the hell is?

Thank you.
whome will i lose my dignity
will someone care
will i wake tomorrow
from this nightmare
what's it to you?
who go