Dear God

Dear God,

Fuck you. I've been chewed up, spit out, knocked over, kicked while I was down. I'm hanging on the edge and you're stepping on my damn fingers.
I felt betrayed when I was raped...but I still had faith. I lost my faith and was angry when my mother was killed by one of your "beautiful" fucking creatures. I was outraged when you didn't answer my one.last.plea when I was slitting my wrists or trying to pull the trigger...I am blind and furious now: my baba's died. Thank you. No really, Thank You.
You've proven yourself to exist, so good job. Yeah, I believe your there: there's no other explanation for why I've been shot down so many fucking times. So I believe you're there, but not that you are good. Maybe you are, who the hell knows? Not me: how could I? And why would I?
I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you.
Love and kisses
Johnny V. (You know the one. The one you fucked over again)

RIP Marilyn Irina Valentine 1948-2006 (baba)

p.s Lance and I saw V for Vendetta. Good. Lance and I went to see HH. Good. Don't worry about me, I'm already fucking dead inside. I'll be back when I feel better. Cheers and hope all goes well for you.

Lance

Ever since Lance's birthday on the 1st (celebrated on the first, however supposed to be the 29th), he has been depressed...refused to leave his room, crying, wailing about things.
His grandfather died, his father's out of prison and he realised he's not a kid anymore, at 18. He hides his head underneath the pillows and blankets and stuffed animals and tells me he's never leaving his house ever ever again, that he wants to be frozen and remember about better things.
I, however, have been sitting outside his door, day after day, trying to coax him to come out. I miss him, I want him, I haven't touched him in ages and I'm lonely and becoming depressed myself. This was all before my bout with the flu...accompanied by a hacking cough that cares NOT that one of my lungs is recovering puncture still and a headache that makes my daily headache's worse. It's been painful to close my eyes, keep them open, have lights on, sit in total darkness and everytime I cough, I throw up wads (WADS!) of blood...
After recovering NEARLY from that, I went and I sat outside of Lance's door again and he opened it, finally. The pink in his hair was fading and his eyes looked like hell (bloodshot, horrified, sleep-depraved) and I said "Can I come in, bunny?"
He frowned. He said, "I really want it."
And I just looked up at him.
"So if I let you in, we'll just do it and I'll feel bad and you'll turn crazy." He smiled a little.
I shrugged, and we had sex. It was nice, not rough like the first time or awkward, and not giggly like the second. More so like the kind of passion and love you expect, and I felt great for two days afterwards.
Then came the dream, not so much a rape dream as a conceptualists dream...I don't know what it means...Lance, sitting near my bare chest and stomach, watching me with head in hands and intent eyes. "It'll be gorgeoues," He says, "Absolutely lovely." And I kept laughing and asking what. He beckoned something in the darkness away, and a hand with a scalpel cut me open, and dead, grey butterflies and moths came out of my tear and I was horrified. He smiled and said "See?" and when I woke up, I was so calm and happy.
Lance is still depressed, but he'll see me...
Sorry for the abscence...been hacking up death. I will be gone for a bit again too...My grandma's had a heart attack...needs care.
<3
JV

PS Don't get me wrong...I'm happy with my boyfriend, he's perfect and beautiful (a little dumb) but sweet too...I feel awfully monotonous, therefore most of this post is like that too...Cheers

Argh...

"street corner sweetheart" was a term given to Stacie by herself and when she told me this, I decided to put it in my song, below. What got me is when I laughed (I thought it was a cute, tactful name), she grinned and said "Laugh it up, pretty boy..." and left it at that.

Otherwise, I live with Lance and his brother and mom for now, as my father said he never wants to see me or deal with me ever again...However hasty he may have been, I accept that and for the last week have been sleeping in my comfy alleyway behind the fucking 7-11....then to Lance's last night.

Cheers
JV