doesn't that seem to be working against the "ideal" hippie cause?

ok, so ideally hippies are supposed to be planting and harvesting, in touch with the earth, and in harmony with the animals, but if agriculture sets us apart from the rest of the animals (us being people, our culture, or actually, our "broad culture" which takes too much time to explain, so just go with me on this one), how is this living in harmony with them (animals)?

you are the second youngest girl. you die with carbon monoxide posioning.

you are a rebel, you have sex on the roof, smoke, stay out later than told..

you're mom made you burn your rock records... you were the beautiful one.

you're a stone fox and by far most people's favorite lisbon girl.

what lisbon girl are you?

(brought you by april)

I WAS A GIFTED CHILD
i had my niche.
intelligent. creative. or artistic.
what kind of child were you?
(brought you by april)

i want to be cute. i want somene to tell me that i look cute. not pretty. not sexy. cute. there is a difference. cute girls get boyfriends who love them and respect them and don't just hang out with them because they want to get in their pants. cute girls are nice with dimples and freckles. i want to be cute damnit. i am so sick of sexy. i want to be cute!!!!!!!!

i am crying so hard right now. i need a hug. i feel like dying.

fuck off.

and charlotte, just for the record, i like katie miller.

shit.

well, benjamin asked me out. rather than explain my whole guy situation i just explained that i like what we have (true), want to keep it this way (true), and would hate for us not to be friends if and when we broke up (true). he actually agreed and said that after he asked me he wasn't sure. all well and good. the next day cody asked me out. well cody knows everything so i just told him he knows i won't say yes, and he just said it couldn't hurt to try. oh. fuck my life. i am such a mean person. a horrible person. i really need to stop, i just can't think of any good way to do it without offending at least two people. (ben and cody. matt could care less.)

i went to a concert with charlotte last night. i saw benjamin. he was stoned. when he is stoned he is a perverted, idiotic, insensetive prick. FUCK HIM. ughhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i was already feeling horrible, and that made it worse. and i know the next time i see him, i will remember how mean he was but i will still give in to him. i am so stupid. i hate myself.

my scanner is miserable and barely shows shading, so these look like shit. i'm really better at drawing than this.

the products of depression:

i have to leave in seven hours to register. i have not gone to sleep. it is almost two in the morning. shit.

. . . What is my spectrum? I am blue: My main color is blue. I am a little bitter when people choose a blissfully ignorant aproach to life. I try to see things for the way they really are. . What is my spectrum?

i ran into this kid, eli, at staples. i feel so stupid. i waved and said "hi", he did the same, and my heart was fluttering five hundred miles an hour. i feel like such a little girl. it's so silly. he's not really all that cute, but i like him. there's no way i'll ever talk to him at school though, because his "crowd" doesn't associate with mine. it's sad. i'm so pathetic and immature. shit.

sophie is a skittle. tee hee!

i got an e-mail from one of my friends regarding yeterday's post. i didn't bother to change my name, they're the only people who read this, and if someone does accidently stumble on this why shoud i care whether s/he knows my name or not?
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i hope you don't mind that i put your letter on here laura, but i just ...i don't know. i wanted to i guess. i really like it. it made me smile and cry happy tears, and it made me feel really loved. i never really think anybody does love me. i know my parents and friends do, but it isn't something i feel constantly. maybe because the feeling had never been fully realized within me. so, now i know how it feels. i think i used to know when i was a really little kid, but i suppose i just forgot. similar to the way we seem to forget how to play. thanks for bringing it back laura, it feels wonderful. i love you too!!
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anyway, here is lovely laurie's letter:
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Oh God, Claire. I read your blog. There is so much to you that I never knew. You are so young to have been through so much. I am so sorry. But I think you do have the abillity to regain control over boys. You are so smart, insightful, and beautiful; all to your benefit. I hope those boys remember that day everyday and get sick when they think of what they did to you. Just remember that you were a victim for one day; you don't have to be a victim every day. You are better than them. I hope you feel better and I hope that you can talk or write to me whenever you need to. I love you very much!

Love, Laura

today was not a good day. i was cleaning my room (we had company coming; no i did not go temporarily sane) and i smelled something, i think it was a plastic-y purse, and it reminded me of bus seats ...and that day. that horribly awful day of angry, excited hands, the dirty floor, sweaty seats, and tears. when it first came back, i thought, "well, it's a memory and i'll have it forever. it's not something easily forgettable, i just live with it. it's a part of me, and it makes me who i am." that helped for a while, but it kept coming back and nagging at the corner of my brain. i couldn't shake it no matter how hard i tried. i got really fatigued and as i sunk to the floor, i looked at my hand and it was shaking furiously. then i realized my whole body was shaking. i wrapped my arms around myself and rocked back and forth, tears stinging but not daring to flow. the rest of the day i was simply withdrawn. i called charlotte, and i wanted to talk to her about it, but for some reason i couldn't and held back. my tongue wasn't cooperating with my brain. i needed to tell someone, but i was scared, and it's silly because she's my best friend. i should be able to tell her anything. she'll read this eventually, and know. that's good enough i suppose. but from my experience today, i realized that this will stay with me forever. it makes sense that it would. it completely changed me. something in me died that day. several things actually. trust, self respect. i became less outgoing, stopped caring about how sexual i was because i thought it didn't matter. if they were going to force me into things whether i wanted to do them or not, then why should i care? why should it matter? i lost my ability to be alone with guys as friends and not feel like they were scheming to get into my pants. i became afraid of men. of boys. all of them. because of two. two who i will never forget. two stupid, hormone-driven boys who traumatized me for life. because of them, i will continue to have days like today for the rest of my life. days where the only thing keeping me from completely breaking down is a song that just happens to come on at the right time. "for though i cannot fly, i am not content to crawl."