GOD DIES

"No one ever came to me and said, " your a fool. There isn't such thing as god. Somebody's been stuffing you. It wasn't murder, I think god just died of old age.And when I realize he wasn't anymore. It didn't shock me. It seemed natural and right.

Maybe it's because I was never impressed by a religion. I went to sunday school. And I like the stories of christ and the christmas star. They were beautiful. They made you warm and happy to think about. But I didn't believe them. The sunday school teacher talked too much in the way of my grade school teacher used too when she told us about George Washington. Pleasant, pretty stories, but not true.

Religion was too vague. God was different, he was something real. Something I could feel. But there was only certain times I could feel it. I used to lie between cool, clean sheets. After I'd have my bath. After I had washed my hair and scrubbed my knuckles, and fingernails and teeth. Then I could lie quite still in the dark with my face toward the window with the trees in it, and talk to god. " I am clean now, I've never been as clean, I'll never be cleaner. " And somehow it was God. I wasn't sure it was. Just something cool and dark and clean.

That wasn't religon, though. There was too much of the physical about it. I couldn't get that same feeling during the day. With my hands in dirty dish water. And the hard sun showing up the dirtiness on the rooftops. And after, a time in at night, the feeling of God didn't last. I began to wonder what the minister meant, when he said, God, the father, sees even the smallest farrow fall. He watches over all his children. That jumbled it all up for me.

But I was sure of one thing, If god were a father with children. that cleaniness I had been feeling wasn't God. So at night, when I went to bed, I am clean, I am sleepy. And then I went to sleep. It didn't keep me from enjoying the cleaness any less. I just knew that god wasn't there. He was a man on a throne in heaven. So he was easy to forget.

Sometimes I found him useful to remember, especially when I lost things that was important. After slamming through the house, panicky and breathless from searching,I could stop in the middle of a room and shut my eyes."Please god, let me find my red hat with blue trimmings." It usually worked. God became a superfather that couldn't spank me. But if I wanted a thing bad enough, he arranged it.

That satisfied me until I began to figure that if god had loved all his children equally, why did he bother with my red hat and let other people lose their mothers and fathers for always? I began to see that he didn't have much to do about hats or people dying or anything. They happened whether he wanted them to or not, and he stayed in heaven and pretended not to notice. I wondered a little why God was such a useless thing, it seemed a waste of time to have him. After that he became less and less, until he was nothingness.

I felt rather proud that I had found the truth myself, without help from anyone. It puzzled me that other people hadn't found out too. God was gone, we were younger..We had reached past him. Why couldn't they see it? it still puzzles me.

LOVE IS THE DRUG!!!!!

It's been a opera. It was more than an opera. It was gore theater and I was the leading lady. I became obsessed with angels and ballerinas things of grace and beauty after Sonny and I broke up.I would cry about every fifteen minutes.I was a make-up nightmare. I wanted to be the swan in swan lake, and flutter, crumple and disappear.

Imagine this: Your peaking. Your in your youth. At the prime of your life. You've finally met someone and your In love with him. You have a best friend. You have a soul-fucking mate. And he's the best fuck that ever walked. And he wants to have babies. And what you want is babies. You've wanted to have a baby forever...

And he understands everything you say. And he completes your sentences. And he's lazy but spritual. And he's not embarrased about praying, about god, jesus, none of it. He fucking thinks it's all kool. He wants to be enlightened. everything.

And there's even room for you to fix him, which you like, cause your a fixer-upper. He's perfect in almost every fucking way. The only fucking happiness you've ever had. And then he starts slamdancing with Mr. Brownstone(herion)....and it all gets taken away from you.

He was in a coma for twenty hours and I was hysterical throughout. I mean, they had two tubes in his nose, two in his mouth, things coming out of every available artery. They had to put the glucose through his neck that night, all of his life functions including pissing were done by a machine.

I mean, I've seen him get really fucked up before, but I've never seen him almost eat it like that. And I knew that night as I layed with him praying that he wouldn't leave me that I could never see him like that again...and that this would be the end of our story...I've been a zombie for eleven months now. For so long in my relationship and afterward, I've been in isolation, oblivious to everything but my darkest hedonism and darkest hours.

I have to start feeling my heart again. I'm finally returning to the land of agoraphobia trying to purge myself of my vitriol for every man that has hurt me in the past...I did Lady Macbeth...all right. Now it's time to get back with the living....

A SLOW DISEASE

My dad went to vietnam when he was 19 years old. I think it bruised his soul. There are some things the human mind should never have to comprehend, some things the body can never forget.

He doesn't talk about it. Actually, I guess, I've never asked. I hate to imagine his puppy young eyes absorbing all that rain and mud and blood. The jungles must have seemed like a slow disease that would continue to arrest his and so many other hearts the rest of their lives.....

THE BEAUTY MYTH

When I was a small child, I had an enormous potbelly. It was impossible to tame. I loved it. It was glorious and smooth and stuck out of everything I wore. No T-shirts could cover it; no Tuff-Skins could tame it. It was plump and lunar, like someone had cut the moon in half and sculpted it to my small self.

I was still quite young when I began to catch on that a belly wasn't something to be desired; it was something to be ashamed of. Girls wanted breasts; to wear earrings; to cram their feet into uncomfortable shoes. Potbellies were not in demand. They were not even considered attractive, and everything I saw, heard, and read reminded me that being attractive was the point of it all.

I've decided to not let body image control my life. I want to focus on feeling healthy and attractive, not on some fictitious, unattainable standard of beauty. .....so DAMN THE CRITICS!!!!!!

THE METAMORPHIS OF THE BLONDE ONE

I can understand how Elvis and Johnny Cash and countless other performers got addicted to sleeping pills. Working the night shift for over a year now..the days meld into one another and it becomes increasingly more difficult to sleep. It takes me hours to fall asleep even after working all night..all of this is complicated of course by my desire to have a little bit of a life of my own. Just to watch t.v. or make phone calls or write which I find essential to my well being.

consequently, for me, life begins at night. And I have to find time to watch movies, catch up on world events, write..The dead of night is the only time I seem to be able function now..just finding time to lay on my bed and stare at the ceiling and let my mind wander..is sometimes scarce now..then I will have two days off..and the cycle will begin all over again. Elvis doesn't have to come back from the dead to tell me this is where sleeping pills begin to look like an attractive option..I've been taking them on and off for over a year..not everyday..but more often than I would like.

The cumulative effects of sleep deprivation are hard to cope with. My internal clock is so messed up that without sleeping pills it is sometimes impossible for me to sleep at all. The problem is the pills sometimes make me feel sluggish and my mind gets fatigued, making me susceptible to worries and neuroses that usually don't haunt me when I'm well rested.

But I gotta do what I gotta do, as do most people..So I guess I should stop whining and be thankful I have a job at all...WTF whining is the walmart way....so I guess I do fit right in...:p......

FIGHT GIRL POWER

Wanna know the dumbest thing I've ever heard of? Girl Power. Feminism, as in we crush all barriers died, some other time when I was a baby. What happened then? Everyone got scared to be a feminist. Feminist were angry and unattractive. So some mediocre magazine editor decided feminisim needed remodeled into a marketable concept. Just what is up with girls, anyway.

It's something about being beautiful. That's what it is. We want to be happy, to be surrounded by boys who lend us their sweaters and girls who share their slurpee's, always with a party to go to, always with someone to call, and the way to do that is to be beautiful, right? That's what everyone tells us. We want to excel and achieve.

and I'm not saying boys are any better, they just have better luck. Guys can be crazy offbeat dreamers and everyone will like them more for it. Their supposed to be stubborn and rebellious. It's sexy when boys tell the world to go fuck itself. Example:( Sid Viscious, a dirty skinny bass-totter who made a career out of being offensive and bleeding on people. He's the twelfth most requested dead guy on the internet.)

But that kind of behavior is just not profitable for a girl. Look, they want our money, that's what this whole thing is about. Capitalism is the biggest house of mirrors in the world, because everyone is trying to tell us we "need" something. What we need to do is to perfect the skill of cash warfare. Don't buy shit. You know what shit is...Anything in print that is kind enough to tell you how to be perfect, and smart enough to show you a picture of what perfect is. Seventeen magazine is shit. Jane magazine is shit. The Girl Power movement is shit. So let's you and me not be targeted. We can be the big movement of women not buying shit. There's plenty of things to spend our money on..food, college, a kick ass bass guitar..

We do and can kick ass without being "pretty", and maybe in the distant future- like when we're seventy and sitting on top of the fortune we amassed in our youths by our inventive and roguish business instinct-society will have changed and we can date 20 year old models..but until then things are gonna be ugly...

Hey, we shall overcome, okay?

INDEPENDENT WOMEN VS. MALE DOMINANCE

The history of mankind is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations on the part of man toward woman, having in direct objects the establishment of an absolute tyranny over her. To prove this, let the facts be submitted to a candid world.

1. he has never permitted her to exercise her inalienable right to the elective franchise.

2. he has compelled her to submit to laws, in the formation of which she had no voice.

3. he has withheld from her rights which are given to the most ignorant and degraded men-both natives and foreigners.

4. having deprived her of this first right of a citizen, the elective franchise, therby leaving her without representation in the halls of legislation, he has opressed her on all sides.

5. He has made her, if married, in the eye of the law, civilly dead.
he has taken from her all right in property, even to the wages she earns.

6. He has made her, morally, and irresponsible being, as she can commit many crimes with impunity, provided they be done in the presence of her husband. In the covenant of marriage, she is compelled to promise obedience to her husband, he becoming, to all intents and purposes, her master-the law giving him power to deprive her of her liberty, and to administer chastisement.

7. He has monopolized nearly all the profitable employments, and from those she considers most honorable to himself. As a teacher of theology, medicine, or law, she is not known.

8. He had denied her the facilities for obtaining a thorough education-all colleges being closed against her.

9. He has created a false public sentiment, by giving to the world a different code of morals for men and women, by which moral delinquencies which exclude women from society, are not only tolerated but deemed of little account in man.

10. He has endeavored, in every way that he could, to destroy her confidence in her own powers, to lessen her self-respect, and to make her willing to lead a dependent and abject life...

Now, in view of this entire disfranchisement of one-half the people of this country, their social and religious degradation, In view of the unjust laws above mentioned, and because women do feel themelves aggrieved, oppressed, and fraudulently deprived of their most sacred rights and privileges which belong to them as citizens of the united states.

We anticipate no small amount of misconception, misrepresentation, and ridicule but we shall use every instrumentality within our power to affect our object.....