It's spreading, like spilled water on a plastic surface. The ever growing trend of diaries is not a trend for me. It is still my sanity, my sentiment, my passion. MINE MINE MINE, so drop and give me 20 if you're reading.

The girl makes me want to vomit. She makes me feel like rolling around in shit, because that is what she is. Her tiny features and eccentuated words bring me to my knees, tossing me against the dirty pavement that is called the floor. I know her because I am her destruction and demise. I know because she is predictable. Vulnerable to *beauty*, she is weak for only that.

1:11 P.M.
I woke up yesterday morning with the intention to go to school, only to realize that I fell asleep in my car in the parking lot of school. That's how everything in my life goes. Half the stuff that happens to me, I have no intentions of ever happening. But it does, and I continue to go about my daily business. And I don't know who reads this bit anymore, but it doesn't matter. Me, me, me, it's all for me. And sometimes maybe for you too. I used up whatever intelligence I had left in English class (I didn't fall asleep in any parking lots this morning, thank you very much...).

The distance between us grows greater by the minute, etching away at whatever we had left. I miss you, I want you, I need you. Her little hands will not cover her face any longer. It just takes too much energy to lift them when there is nothing left inside of her. She is my disgust, my alter ego, my rage and my filling. She consumes me in the worst possible way, eating at me when I feel great. I am schizophrenic. I am Kristen.

Ryan just metioned that he got back from Hawaii. I haven't been back there in two years. I miss going out the first day I get there, surfing and falling for hours, being burned ONLY on my back, and still not caring. It's a beautiful place, everyone should go. Everything is still so untouched. There is the five minute rain, which never ruins a day and only refreshes what splendor already lies there. Getting off the plane and taking the first steps outside, where I always receive a lei and a kiss on the cheek from Uncle Jerry. The sand beneath my feet feels like satin, and the air infuses me making me feel weightless. Every morning I'd wake up and sit outside on the balcony of our condo. The lawnchair that resided there was my spot to think, to write, to feel the cool morning air knowing that the day would bring nothing but great things. I'd watch the cars that sped along the streets below me, sometimes wishing that I could just fly above them eventually landing on top. My views were tainted, but it was still beautiful. At night I'd come back to the same spot with my discman and my journal. How serendipitous it was at night, with traffic slow to nearly nothing in downtown Honolulu. I could hear the ocean waves roll quietly in the distance. If I looked in one direction, a brightly lit city with its orange lights and passive commotion was all I could view. But there was the other direction, the ocean, the water, the darkness and mystery that I could not see. Sometimes there would be the occassional boat with its flashing light, but that was the only direction there was in the dark. Oh how I miss it.





6:23 P.M.
I'm screaming in a room filled with bodies that do not hear anything but silence. How does that work? I'm so cold right now. I read about Warm Fuzzies today. There are too many Cold Pricklies in this world and never enough Warm Fuzzies. Here's a Warm Fuzzy for *you*.

I'm beginning to believe that nothing matters anymore...words, thoughts, actions, presence. Everything seems so meaningless, and I am captain of them all. I want someone to understand. I want someone to help me. I'm asking, please help me. Show me that there is meaning to beauty, to existence, to anything and everything this world has not yet shown me. It is my plight. Help me.

I feel like I'm bleeding everywhere, bleeding bad thoughts and feelings on all who surround me. I'm sorry if I've soiled your shirt with my shit. I'm sorry if I've made you dirty and spoiled your cleanliness. I'm sorry.