"Tell me something- will I die on a rope?"

Subject lyric from Die On A Rope, by the Distillers.

So when you walk into a place you can sort of feel the atmosphere. Or at least I can. I don't know what it is. Mum puts it down to sensitivity, but it's more primitive than that- some gut instinct left over from pack living, where you had to know what was going on. Some feeling in the air- pheremones? Bad vibes?
Whatever they were, they hit me full in the face this afternoon. Like a big cold wave of misery and anger. It's happened quite a lot lately around here...
All I could do was hide downstairs and try to read and wish I could wave some magic wand and make it go away.
Nothing's happening, that's what you've got to understand, nothing and nothing and nothing again. Nobody's fighting (more than usual, anyway). That would make it so much better. It's silence and moping and fake cheerfullness and rantings when they think the other can't hear...
*Whimpers, pulls blankets around herself, grabs mug of hot chocolate for comfort.*
I with I had Live Through This; I could really do with Courtney Love screaming right now.

Kelly was wearing a Lenore shirt today. I got all excited and asked her if she liked Lenore- first time I'm said anything to her since the grade nine trip. Her response?
"Uh... I just found this in a store in Montreal. I don't read."
Of course not.
I thought punks didn't just do stuff because they thought it looked cool. (As that shirt undeniably did... wish I'd bought it.)
Myeh. Kelly interested me for a while- there are very few interesting people in my history class- despite her bad musical taste and vague annoyance factor, but not anymore. I refuse to be interested by people who don't read.
There's that superiority complex again. I thought I told it to stay in its cage.

Ian (Keru's ex-boyfriend) asked me the other night, quite out of the blue, if I was a lesbian. Apparently the basis of this question was that he served two gay girls the other night and they reminded him of me. This amuses me. I'm not sure if I give off a vibe or if it was my unusual appreciation of pretty girls that clued him in.

In that vein... ( I'm beginning to think that this might make a good pride song. )

I'm going to go and get me a comfort [noun] here.
"Fuck" is a good curse word. Use it. Love it. Get to know it...

~Jehane

"All animals are created equal, but some are more equal than others." - George Orwell, Animal Farm