why_do_i_remember kinkazoid i remember this time when i was probably about 6 years old, i was at my aunt and uncles house which i went to very often to hang out wiht my cousins while my mother hung out with aunt and uncle...well anyways they always hung out downstairs and we did upstairs, one time i came down stairs and my mom was smoking something, i didnt know what it was at first i just thought it was a cigarette, i said to her "mom, you dont smoke" she told me that you have to have someone else light your cigarette for you or it wont light. i dont know why but for some reason i believed it and i didnt really know it wasnt true till i was about 12, i didnt think about it till then when i tried my first cigarette. yeah it was a joint if you didnt guess, she was a fucking pot head, and she denies it when i ask her but my sister says she was too. bitch, the other day she had this party for her friends and also some family, when i got home the whole fucking house smelt like pot, she smoked some with her friend in her bathroom. everyone noticed and most of our family left it was so embarrising. bitch... 010714 ... josie So much of my Father like it was yesterday. Why does that guy keep asking me if i'm not over it. Grasping at come coping mechanics with battered fingertips wrapped in rags. I cut them in the shower with the razor and i drew my face on the bathroom wall. 020605 ... little wonder all of the little meaningless things. everyone's name that i've been introduced to, when they don't even remember that we were introduced. cold peach champagne with my back turned. what people have given me, and how i've only returned a fraction of it. 020605 ... pilgrim A time when Everyone was a Pot Head, And Tolerance was The Way. 020606 ... DammitJanet i tend to remember the things i wish i had forgotten. like getting lost at ripleys believe it or not that we went to when i was 10. ran right thru the steal revolving door and couldnt get back in, now being surrounded by scary strangers in a foreign country. i guess it's to teach me not to run so far ahead. like yelling at sarah in grade 7 when she offered help. i was frustrated that she was so smart and i was struggling. maybe because all i really needed to do was apply myself more, like she did. instead i hurt her. like when i didn't double check that i locked the door and i had a feeling it was still open. but i went to school anyway. we were robbed that day, everything valuable was taken, which wasn't much. now i'm not so careless. like all the bad choices i've ever made. the memories of those are so much easier to recall than good ones. i guess there's no lessons to be learned in happy memories. but they've become so easy to lose. 031209 what's it to you? who go blather from