jane everyone treats me like i'm a crystal glass, full to the brim with water. if you bump me, a wash of emotions spills out.
the only thing is, you can't predict what exactly will spill over. so my friends tiptoe around me, and try to protect me. they watch out to make sure i don't go crazy and have a nervous breakdown. i love them for it, i really do. now you're expecting a "but", ight? well no "but", i really just love them for it.
like i said before though, you never know which emotions will spill over.
today, for example, they all ran around trying to find me, just to warn me about a guy being at school. or to stop me from freaking out when i did find him.
well they didn't have to, the guy did. he tapped the glass and the emotions poured.
they weren't tears, or anger or..anything that my protective friends expected.
they were laughter and joy. rambunctious yelling. racing until i was out of breath and not caring.
i am me.

i am a girl.

meet my other personalities

*nice to meet you

girlnamedlover I dont want to drink anymore.
so Im not going to. Ive been drinking way too much lately. and I think its a bad idea. its bad for me and Ive been getting into too much trouble. drinking to escape my problems with my boyfriend only made them worse.
but now that I dont drink or smoke pot anymore, we apparently dont have anything in common. he told me that I make him feel like he has two lives, a drug related one and a me one. and that makes me sad. I wish everything in his life didnt have to do with pot. I wish he would respect my decisions.
even more than that, I wish people could just have fun without drinking or getting high. because I know I can do that. yeah, I mean doing that is fun sometimes, but I dont like how it is some people's lifestyle. and I hope I dont sound stupid, but thats how I feel. there are lots of fun things to do that dont have anything to do with altered states of mind.
I dont know, Im just jealous. I want to be the most important thing in his life. I want to be more important than weed. I want to be the one he thinks about in school.
but I lose.
jane today was pretty weird. i got up and immediately decided i was going to leave the house; i couldn't stay around all day and hang out with my dad and my cousin.

but yeah, so i drove downtown and deposited a hundred and sixty dollars in the bank and went to kragen to get a new gas-cap but they didn't have the right one in stock so i had to order one. then i drove into sacramento and bought a couple pairs of jeans, stopped off at matt and dave's but they weren't home...went to la bou for a chai latte (note caffiene) then called crista but she said her family was going to church and that she would call me when she got back. so i went to true_love and got a coffee (note the caffiene) and some paper ('cause they give their customers paper and art supplies and they turn in the art and then at the end of the year they display it). i went out to the back patio where there's usually a bunch of people. but it was just me and some other guy. he was reading and smoking a cigarette and so i started drawing, ignoring his cigarette because i'm trying to quit. then i started ignoring that and i asked him for a cigarette. so i was smoking and drawing when crista called me back.

she and i went to the next day flight show and they kicked ass and so did the band after them. we both wanted to jump the singer's bones, haha...but then i got back into davis at twelve-thirty or so and went to brian's but it got boring so i went home.

i waited and waited for "23" to call me but he didn't. we haven't had sex in a month or so now...i'm thinking of either breaking up with him or just cheating on him...any takers?

i ended up going back to brian's but they were all asleep when i got there so i started driving around davis looking at woodstock's and my old elementary school and whatnot, listening to coldplay (that song "animals" kicks so much ass...i recommend downloading it).

and here i am blathing. a _____ end to a _____ day
xle i always meant to go to true_love.
i've decided i should meet jane.
i'm perfectly awake at 4:30am having things i swore off awhile ago. heroin, cheese, it's all the same isn't it? (in case you were wondering, it's cheese)
minnesota_chris if heroin is the same as cheese, then I am going to the wrong grocery store! 030112
jane it's good to know i'm not alone having things i tried to quit...i would very much like to meet you too, xle..
i thought you moved to san francisco though, but if you want to drive and meet somewhere that wouldn't really be a problem...if you're really serious email me at
jane two weeks afterwards, and i've been to three bars this evening and made somebody buy me drinks and got money from that strange boy that ariel brought. in the bars, the difference between the men and the boys is astounding. and i get home and rob's still awake, and he tells me that he's watching a queen concert on tv. i say, i love queen; can i come over? he says yes, and i do, and i'm in rob's bed, and i feel like we're married because i'm in bed and he's working on that website. and we're both singing queen, even though before i would have been too embarrassed to sing. and then at 4:45 in the morning i get a phone call from john who's drunk and says that hes an asshole for not calling for two weeks, and that he's had appendicitis and has been recuperating. i say i'll call him back in a second because i dont want rob to hear this conversation. he asked me who it was and i had to say "this guy..." because i dind't feel like explaining "...that i slept with two weeks ago who didn't call me until now" because then i'd also have to explain about patrick & michael and how i lied about them. and maybe thats why i dont want to do morning glory seeds with rob - for fear of the truth coming out at an inappropriate moment. but yeah, john - so i called him when i got back to my building and he said he'd pay for a cab for me to come over, because there was no one else he'd like to wake up next to than me. i told him i was glad he was calling and accepted his offer. wish we could have had sex but part of me feels that because we didnt i guess that shows that we enjoy each others company too, that maybe its more? i wish people could just be honest with each other & i could just say things like, "GOD, isabel! shut up" or "john, are you seeing anybody else? because if you aren't, i'd be willing to cut that out of my life, and we can date exclusively and you can be my valentine and you can give me a ring from a cracker jack box and we can have a million pets and live anywhere but here" 050129
someone concerned protect yourself girl.

you know?

be safe.
jane i usually try to protect myself from concerned people 050209
jane especially those who call me "girl." but your concern does not go unappreciated 050209
My apologies, the term girl in that context is used as a term of endearment and is not meant as any kind of marginalization or gender or patriarchical or generational patronization. It is taken from the patois, the venacular of african american and some latino females and has expanded or metastasized to some males using it as a address to the females in thier lives they are fond of.

Again, no offense was intended. I realize taking the abstractness of a culture foreign to you and juxtaposing its idioms along side what your experience is may be a little disharmonic with what ostensibly clashes with your personal sense of worth and value from a strong gender affirming sense of self.
jane its always nice to have someone who cares. i'm sure i'd like you if i knew who you were 050210
oldephebe Okay. 050210
jane i thought it was you. i could tell by the extensive vocabulary. well, thank you for being genuine, and thank you for your concern 050211
oldephebe and then it strikes me, the discordance of that remark..."has mestastsized to men who use the term to address the women in thier lives they are fond of.."
i mean - all i know of you is some of the amazing things you've shared here, pages from your life, the frank, no horseshit graphic and sometimes jarring beauty of what it is to be jane in new york as she matriculates and encounters and the mass and mash and mush and crush of LIFE and what it does to her heart...and the sense of ambivalence that is inescapable and sometimes neccessary...knit the heart in steel to deal...but then here's me pining for a place to rest my heart, my cares and grasping...wending through this simulacrae of projected possibilities of the apochryphal and the graphic crushing beauty and genuiness of the truth...and me grasping at the exposed nerves of other maybe i shouldn't have even said girl - but still you know?
i mean guess
you can't because aside from being preternaturall prescient or psychic
we live in inescapably soplipsistic world
what choice does one have though?
what can you do amidst
the chaos
the unremmiting stream of
discourse, techno-
okay so let's not
unfurl another frayed cliche
one more long banner of personal blight
me here
taking my turn to take a dump on a
culture where metastasis, cultural and technological and anythig else is an imperative, a dictate of the age
all aspects of my wholly unremarkable life beset and besieged and engaged and fed by the sleepless eye
the blazing conduit that connects...
am i really going to pine for a time
of pistons and ponies
and argyle sweaters
the early age of cement
towers being drawn up to the sky
amidst the moral squalor of
jim crow and the odious circumspection of an entire gender class
the age of just for kicks pogroms
down main street with a marching band everything
so i come here in the bottom of the
blackest hour
sit here a man
with a soul suffering from the burden of isolation
"he sat there and his mind floated
up to the clouds"
so i come to this
sometimes shimmering simulacre
what was it greenday said about walking
the boulevard of broken dreams?
except that my shadow is stalked by
eyes burning with hate
staring silently
i'm the guy in the house on the corner
that everyone used to deride then ignore
and now hate with a blinding flame that lights up the night
Oh how black americans have learned so acutely to diminish one another
to lash out with the collective hate of NAZI germany towards one of thier own who dares to look beyond himself and thier acculteration and bear himself a little differently
never mind
so when i came across this page
a sense of something ture, unpoised and unrehearsed calling out into the night
here am I
this is my tale
hidden here in the folded pages
and then bright beams from the
brambled blue
i was out
desultorily surfing
looking for something
to light the dark
is it really possible to find
love in a bleak world?
i mean can really
expect to look up
to once again be struck, be pierced
by everlasting,
the very SPIRIT
of destiny
of a love surely carried


to feel like
being struck through with light?

to feel the soft kiss of her
her words
upon my skin
before she even speaks
to know the whim
the ache of her past
and hope for the future
to hear it all in the silence
as we sat in the dark
filled with our own light?
even it's echoes
are like great fists
on the body of my soul
i do not think it so...
oldephebe at first
was a pretty
cool word
was being really
unique or original
when i used it
has become burnished by
over use
the great poets
of our time and earlier ages
have built great
testaments to the toil and suffering
of blight and what it takes and turns
the soul into
guess i'll
just try taking the time
and set my ADD
down to a book of verse and keep
it there long enough for some
of it to soak in
is it adult attention deficit syndrome?

so it should be AADS

somebody shhhhhhhhhhh

you're fine
oldephebe actually, shhhhhhhhhhhhhh is really good advise - a former sparring partner and firend told me the same thing he said these people could be beat by silence

so thankyou for the advice and reassurance
megan open mic at
kafe kerouac
what's it to you?
who go