"my scream got lost in a
paper cup i bet there's a heaven
where some screams have gone
tori amos

03.28.00

i spent all of last night redesigning my journal site and putting in frames. it was a lot of work and tricky and tedious and frustrating, but i'm fairly happy with the way it looks. the reformatting of old entries so they don't look entirely hideous in the new design is the hard part. i did all of march, but i need to do all of february, january, and half of december yet. so don't look there.

i don't really have anything to write. i am empty. i am beyond despair. all i want is death. nothing more, nothing less. just death. and i can write my reasons in a neat list and n still finds a way that it can't possibly be my decision. he thinks it is all my father's fault, and that if i die, it will be my father's hand that killed me. that is complete and utter bullshit. i'm sorry if he cannot accept that i am deliriously suicidal and that i am responsible for my own life. i am not a puppet. i am not a china doll. i can make my own decisions.

my kitten is driving me nuts and i feel guilty for it because he is just a baby and it is just that he wants my attention but i don't want to play. he loves me and i can't stand him. i need a break from being needed all the time. i am never going to be a parent and with good reason if i cannot even treat a cat well.

i just want out. that's all i can think about and that does not make for interesting reading, so i will end this here and hopefully i will wake up in the morning cheerful and chipper, but i'm not going to bet on it.

. . . .

snacks: chicken cordon bleu, jellybeans
noise: tori amos, live in wallingford
paper: a room of one's own, virginia woolf


terribly adorable pictures of the new baby (now with even more terribly adorable pix!)

aomething for those with a sick sense of humour


[my baby skorchie]

(and thanks to skorch for the cool background)