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The Hogs of Entropy 0679
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ooooo ooooo .oooooo. oooooooooooo HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #679
`888' `888' d8P' `Y8b `888' `8
888 888 888 888 888 "I Don't Shoot Heroin"
888ooooo888 888 888 888oooo8
888 888 888 888 888 " by Caitlin
888 888 `88b d88' 888 o 6/9/99
o888o o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8
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okay. So... I was pondering my mere existance today for the first
time in say... 2 years (?) and I decided.. well... text file, since I
haven't seem to find any other outlet lately. So, if you are entertained
by that sort of personal rant/rambling, whatever the hell people have taken
to calling it, be my guest. Otherwise, smile pretty and shut the hell up.
[-----]
Today started off as a horrible day. I woke up early. Not say, 30
minutes so i could peacefully drift back into a fulfulling short slumber,
but about 10 minutes early, which is just enough to set my whole morning
off. I know someone must know what I am talking about... you know... like,
5 minutes wouldn't matter... but i couldn't possibly go back to sleep,
because i would sleep over my alarm.
[ alternating I and i seems to be appealing to me today; it fits. ]
upon washing my faded-to-pink red hair, I noticed i really needed
to change my tampon which had uncomfortably lodged itself in my vaginal
wall in the most frightfully _bearable_ way. tampax devotees know.
anyways, i took my time carefully selecting which pair of dirty jeans on
my closet floor to put on, then grabbed my "pimp girl" t-shirt, which
seemed too ironically self confident for my already soured mood, and
pulled it on reluctantly over my head.
i put on [track 2] tool's aenima and i danced and sang around my
room bitterly, in a vain, pathetic attempt to cheer/wake up. it worked
until the near end of the song. then i got caught up in the words, which
seemed to outline, fill in, and metaphorically devour my mind.
i ran up my stairs, while my mind habitually chirped "cereal" and i
gulped down a large bowl of honey nut clusters and skim milk, which only
made me naseaus. Greatful for the physical uncomfort to go along with my
mental distress, which was so angsty and pathetic at this moment. Walking
out the door to the car, i decided otherwise.
[thinking] "Okay, so I'm above this. I know it. I don't need the
reassurance. Then why am i being so fucking infantile?!"
I arrived at school, and stumbled silently into my choir class, only
to bullshit with some classmates about hair color and my choir teacher and
my spring break and explaining why i had no pictures yet. i should skip
some of this stuff because it's so incredibly boring, but it is still
significant in my mind of this day. So, yeah, We sang some fiddler on the
roof mix of all the songs in the musical that is incredibly easy and dull
and all that good stuff that defines middle school choirs.
["Matchmaker matchmaker make me a match, find me a find, catch me a
catch".]
My brain chirped again [thinking]
"'Do you feel the same? Am I only dreaming?'"
Okay, so I'm in second hour now, and I happen to write this really
graphic, and interesting story about a berry i ate, and it's journey
through my digestive system. Yes. I was proud. My biology teacher loved
it, which made me happy because she's beautiful, and i instinctively strive
to impress her with my wit.
Third hour. I sat in the library and discussed teen pregnancy and
spring break with this girl that sucks.
fourth hour. NO ONE IN MY FUCKING CLASS KNEW WHAT 'REDUNDENT' MEANT.
(not really important, but) I had a great lunch hour! My closest
friend/pseudo-sister and I sat at lunch and laughed non stop the whole 30
minutes [like we do everyday.] I informed her of my great weekend in
Philadelphia, and we tuned out everyone else with out discussion like we
always do, only to return to reality when the bell signifying the end of
lunch woke us.
walking to fifth hour, i noticed a warm, damp spot in between my
legs, and rushed for the girls bathroom in time to change my feminine
stick.
Awaiting the teachers protest, I sauntered in, smirking cynically,
not necessarily offensively, just out of nature. I was 5 minutes late.
[oh mah god, i totally love run on sentances, oh so truly]
okay, so fuck school. this isn't structured, and I don't feel like
discussing the rest of my day, since it was just as uneventful and
pointless as the beginning of this which i carefully dispersed with
colorful adjectives and random bullshit to keep you partially interested,
or whatever. If you're even reading this you must have some interest in
what I think. Or else you don't know me and your internet connection is
too slow to do anything worthwhile.
Once i got home from school, i immediately ran down into my room
and grabbed my guitar and started pounding away angerly at the strings and
my vocal chords. It was fun. I sang about heartache, about confusion,
about comfort, about peace, about love, about hate, about truth, about lies,
about cities and cars, about towns and gas stations, about boys and girls,
about driving and about being the passenger, about music, about teasing,
about soulmates, and yeah. The best part of all, it was all my own words
and raw emotions, which have been eroded hungerly like a beaver chewing to
the core of a tree trunk. Have you ever bitten your nail so low that the
nailbed is painfully and annoyingly exposed? Multiply that feeling by
84928914892 and you know. [or else, you're only human and you know exactly
what I am talking about.]
so yeah, about my musical river that came and went, I sang as
naturally as birds flying, and i played like i was an angry drummer. I only
wished i could muster that to sell to someone else. I don't want fame. I
want understanding. I don't want admiration. I want understanding. I don't
want to fuck (anything). I want kinship and soul sharing (whatever the hell
that means).
Okay, I'm running off track again. I'm not a fucking train. I can't
draw a line and choose which side i'm on. and i sure as hell can't stand
right on the middle of the line, cuz then I can't dance around. I'm sure I
should credit that to someone, but I can't remember who now.
My hair hasn't diverted from a rainbow color in over a year and a
half now. Isn't that odd? In a way, that was me for so long. I really was
comfortable. People thought that was great, that I could carry that off.
I'm sick of that now, you know? I don't know what they're going to say
tomorrow when I walk in with auburn hair, but I don't really care either
which way. This is the biggest statement I've made so far. It's a blatent
fuck you to my peers, which I don't want to do exactly, because i'm
definately doing this for myself, but I do. I don't care anymore. The
attention isn't a drug anymore. I'm not addicted. My detox was crazy and
emotional, but I'm getting there. Yeah so i once said i've never been
addicted to anything. I smoked a pack of cigarettes a day for a year or
two. I quit cold turkey because it wasn't worth it to sneak out for a
cigarette anymore. There was no point. I never craved it. so why? I
don't know. There's a place called the midwest where if you don't take up
some form of body mutilation, you will surely go insane. Yeah, I didn't
mean for that all to tie in, but it really does, I swear!
[sweet and simple: I dyed my hair strange colors before as a way to
comfort and protect myself from what anyone else had to say. I was already
offensive and out there. I was self confident and cool. I had class, I had
style, and I was different. I can get away with anything, right? I sure
hope so. I got a fortune cookie today and it read "You will always get
what you want through your charm and personality" That's when I think i
confirmed the hair color change. I'm not hiding anymore! Come and take me
anything! someone! help! i'm choking on peace and comfort!!]
I feel like I should be writing this in a letter to someone, but
then i would feel rejected if they didn't stomach it. this way if no one
reads it or if someone does.. i don't feel anything either which way. good
planning eh? oh my god it's 1:30 in the morning and i have to wake up
tomorrow. early and stuff. yeah. so.
Anyways, i think the whole point of this was to tell you why I dyed
my hair, even though it doesn't matter that much. does it? I hope not.
thanks, i love you, i miss you, bye.
"This is me, without my hair.. welcome to my open stare." - a.d.
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[ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #679 - WRITTEN BY: CAITLIN - 6/9/99 ]
