One Love
Day One;
I want to warn you before we even begin this ride, everything in this story is true. The parts that stop making sense do so because after writing in a notebook for four days and nights and smoking dope, things lose reality... and reality becomes an idea in a true or false question. A question we don't know how to answer.
April 3, 2010
Day one;
What is an observation? Something we see... or something we feel? And are the things we feel on the surface, reactions we give, do we offer them up because we're expected to? Because let's be honest, as a society we always do what's expected of us.
I hate to admit this... but the desert is my home. I grew up in the heat, the haze of the desert, the dirt and the browning plants are the things I see rushing by me everyday. I resent them because I prefer the towering buildings and soft hum of fortunes lost. I'm fairly certain of a few things... one is that someday Vegas will be my permanent home. Two: Silversun Pickups is the most inspirational band ever. Three and Four, Inspiration is wonderful, spread it and writing in the car will always suck. And five--everyone is beautiful. These are the things I know. These are the things I believe and we all need to have something to believe in, right?
New is always going to be pretty... but thoughtful, meaningful, used is beautiful.
There's a certain appeal to something painful, for the experience; we love stories. Well...here's my story... for you to hold close to your heart.
--<3Chellie
What's a secret?
What justifies a secret, what makes something so intense that you lock it away from the rest of the world? Are there answers to these questions? Yes. Am I going to tell you? Eventually, I'm sure you'll figure it out, if you pay attention. Are you paying attention?
Betrayal. Betrayal is beautiful. It's pain and pain is real, and there's nothing I love more than reailty. Not your reality, my reality, and yes, there's a difference. You wouldn't survive here and would you like to know why? Well it's funny, because I live through more than you can imagine. I have more open wounds inside of me tha you will have in your entire life.
I wonder sometimes if I'm crazy. Well actually... it's sometimes I realize I'm crazy and then moments later I realize I don't care. Even if I am this insane person and I have an altered perception of 'reality' and everything is justifies, I don't care. It's real... it's exciting. We love drama, don't we? Fast paced and unexpected, adventures that we look for, that we strive on. Well strive on this. Swallow these words. I beg of you don't continue if you're not comprehending these words, if you can't feel what I'm sat then just stop, these words are not meant for you. Move along with your meaningless life. Read Twilight, that will probably be more to you emotional capacity for comprehension justifications.
Shhhhh...
Do you hear that?
No?
Slow things down and be comfortable in the silence that surrounds us. Sometimes even when there's noise all around us... we're lost in the silence. I don't get lost in it anymore, I've learned that silence can be the best hug there is, when your thoughts will wander and it will lead you to realize things you didn't know about yourself, wonderful, wonderful things.
So, why me? Why should my words matter to you?
They shouldn't, these are my feelings, these are my beliefs, and however close to my heart they may be--they don't and won't mean a thing to you if you don't understand and that's all I want you to do. I want to show you who I am and I want you to see, not just look.
Are you still with me?
I hope so.
Why?
Because this is just the beginning.
Well actually, that's a lie. My first beginning was January 22nd. 1992, my second beginning was the day I decided once and for all that I love drugs, that they produced the purest of intentions.
What?!
Drugs produce pure intentions?!
Just let me explain, okay?
When you're high... things aren't the same as when you're sober. Because when you're high the world is a simpler place and your imagination comes alive, just like when you were young and the world is safe only because nothing makes sense yet. We trust the people who surround us, our family. We love with question. When we're high we're as pure as that, we love everyone, we accept people that usually get overlooked.
I was the one the that always got overlooked, people didn't care until I made them, I made them see me. I created myself and I will take full credit for that, because I love who I am, maybe not all of myself but my personality. I have depth.
What do you love about yourself?
What makes you special?
I really, really want to know. I'm quite intriqued by it. I want to be inspired and in turn I want to be inspirational.
What I'm sure won't be my last beginnning but is undoubtably my most recent was the day I tried speed. You have proabably seen those crazy ass posters that make meth seem to be the worst thing ever. The world will always do that, they want to scare you. Let me tell you a secret, meth is as big of a deal as you make it. I'm postitive that it's addictive and I'm sire you let it, it can very easily ruin your life but the whole, 'one time is too many' bullshit they throw up at you... that's all it is:
Bullshit.
You make yourself an addict.
Yes, coming down sucks, when you're starting to stop... the world can be an awful, awful place. You're sure that nothing will ever be fun again. You think about what you did for fun before dope, but thinking about doing it now repulses you, you start to not even understand what was ever appealing about it.
Being spun... it's an experince. You have to have it to understane. I'm not suggesting you all run out and tweak, no, I'm just saying that I can't fully describe this kind of beauty for you. I like that word, beauty; beautiful, can you tell? I use it often. However, I can't use it lightly, I mean it. I mean these things. I believe these things.
But who cares?
You have to, that's what makes any of this relevant. Maybe no one is going to read this, maybe just people who care about me. Of course I want more, not fame but people who are truely inspired by my pain, the true story of who I am. That's what you want isn't it? A story. Well I'll give you one. Hell, I'll give you a bunch. This one is called:
1]. The day Chellie Met Sally (Noel Minnie Minard)
I didn't think I would ever come back to this place. I looked down, "Yeah, Chelsie, pretend your shoes are interesting," My mind even had a sarcastic tone, that's only because today sucked. I thought after missing breakfast and the beginning of first period I wouldn't have to put up with this community circle bullshit, but no. I shifted in the uncomfortable plastic shair, mine was piss yellow but the other options were just as stimulating--burnt prange and pea soup/vomit green.
"Chelsie it's so nice to have you back. What's your answer to the bell question?" Mrs. Smith asked me. I glanced about her gray hair covered head to read the dry-erase board where, in scribbled letters, it asked:
What is your favorite medium?
I couldn't very well tell her a pen, for writing, which is by far my favorite 'medium.' So instead I muttered something about oil pastels. "And what do you like about using pastels?" Everytime I see Mrs. Smith I think about three things.
1. She smells funny. Something like a fish market or maybe a vagina.
2. Her smelling like a vagina kind of makes sense because she's a lesbian.
3. Lastly, I think about her life partner, the other Mrs. Smith. The other Mrs. Smith was the butch lesbian and she had been my basketball coach in eighth grade, She got fired because of us, us as in the basketball team. At Mt. Tipton things are a little different than they would be at a real place, not Dolan Spings is imaginary, oh trust me, it's really here. But if you blink while you're driving through you'll miss it. And I am not exaggerating. Come see for yourself, I'll give you directions. Go to Vegas, keep going... Boulder City... Hoover Dam, lift your feet and make a wish for me at the state line. First you'll pass a couple gas stations, Rosie's Den, White Hills (not literally white, that's just the town's name) and you'll come to a large billboard. At the moment it's advertising the one and only Grand Canyon Skywalk, turn left. You've arrived! We're all very proud of you. Notice the dirt roads? You happen to be driving on the one and only paved one! Mt. Tipton caters to Dolan and the surrounding small towns (White Hills, Meadview, and Chloride) and ever with four towns and 13 grades in one building the number of students doesn't even reach the 500 mark. So the high school has the bare minimum, sports was a very recent addition and one I wasn't there to see. I was there for Jr. High sports, though. They recruited me, "She's tall," They thought, "Of course she'll be good--she's tall."
Mrs. Smith was my coach and she got fired because we got in a fight ar an away game. We got in lots of fights ar games, ever the ones that were held in our own gym. This one was different though, Lake Havisu did not have a female basketball team, they have a team with a girl on in (even thought she didn't like a girl to me). When we started winning they got mad, and their ref made very inappropriate menstrual cycle remarks. Mrs. Smith was right with most of my teammates yelling profanities. We got kicked out of the gym. I scored three baskets that game, the one that didn't count. Anyways, back to smelly Mrs. Smith.
"I like that even if you mess up, you can easily fix it?" Which is true, but I actually hate using pastels. They're messy, you get shit stuck under your fingernails and then you wash your hands and have to deal with dry skin for the rest of the day. Mrs. Smith closed her eyes and nodded and in her nasely voice said, "Ohh... that's right." And thank God, that was good enough for her, so she moved on. She moved on to the new girl, the only person in the room I didn't know even though I hadn't been going to school for the first half of the year. She (the new girl) hadn't moved for TRIBES, the girl who had a blanket; Sally.
And that's her whole parts for today, we didn't even talk that day, but she intrigued me. She had something I didn't have, balls. I admired her appearance of not giving a fuck, I admire everyone like that but Sally became more than that, she eventually because my very best friend.
that
April 3, 2010
Day one;
What is an observation? Something we see... or something we feel? And are the things we feel on the surface, reactions we give, do we offer them up because we're expected to? Because let's be honest, as a society we always do what's expected of us.
I hate to admit this... but the desert is my home. I grew up in the heat, the haze of the desert, the dirt and the browning plants are the things I see rushing by me everyday. I resent them because I prefer the towering buildings and soft hum of fortunes lost. I'm fairly certain of a few things... one is that someday Vegas will be my permanent home. Two: Silversun Pickups is the most inspirational band ever. Three and Four, Inspiration is wonderful, spread it and writing in the car will always suck. And five--everyone is beautiful. These are the things I know. These are the things I believe and we all need to have something to believe in, right?
New is always going to be pretty... but thoughtful, meaningful, used is beautiful.
There's a certain appeal to something painful, for the experience; we love stories. Well...here's my story... for you to hold close to your heart.
--<3Chellie
What's a secret?
What justifies a secret, what makes something so intense that you lock it away from the rest of the world? Are there answers to these questions? Yes. Am I going to tell you? Eventually, I'm sure you'll figure it out, if you pay attention. Are you paying attention?
Betrayal. Betrayal is beautiful. It's pain and pain is real, and there's nothing I love more than reailty. Not your reality, my reality, and yes, there's a difference. You wouldn't survive here and would you like to know why? Well it's funny, because I live through more than you can imagine. I have more open wounds inside of me tha you will have in your entire life.
I wonder sometimes if I'm crazy. Well actually... it's sometimes I realize I'm crazy and then moments later I realize I don't care. Even if I am this insane person and I have an altered perception of 'reality' and everything is justifies, I don't care. It's real... it's exciting. We love drama, don't we? Fast paced and unexpected, adventures that we look for, that we strive on. Well strive on this. Swallow these words. I beg of you don't continue if you're not comprehending these words, if you can't feel what I'm sat then just stop, these words are not meant for you. Move along with your meaningless life. Read Twilight, that will probably be more to you emotional capacity for comprehension justifications.
Shhhhh...
Do you hear that?
No?
Slow things down and be comfortable in the silence that surrounds us. Sometimes even when there's noise all around us... we're lost in the silence. I don't get lost in it anymore, I've learned that silence can be the best hug there is, when your thoughts will wander and it will lead you to realize things you didn't know about yourself, wonderful, wonderful things.
So, why me? Why should my words matter to you?
They shouldn't, these are my feelings, these are my beliefs, and however close to my heart they may be--they don't and won't mean a thing to you if you don't understand and that's all I want you to do. I want to show you who I am and I want you to see, not just look.
Are you still with me?
I hope so.
Why?
Because this is just the beginning.
Well actually, that's a lie. My first beginning was January 22nd. 1992, my second beginning was the day I decided once and for all that I love drugs, that they produced the purest of intentions.
What?!
Drugs produce pure intentions?!
Just let me explain, okay?
When you're high... things aren't the same as when you're sober. Because when you're high the world is a simpler place and your imagination comes alive, just like when you were young and the world is safe only because nothing makes sense yet. We trust the people who surround us, our family. We love with question. When we're high we're as pure as that, we love everyone, we accept people that usually get overlooked.
I was the one the that always got overlooked, people didn't care until I made them, I made them see me. I created myself and I will take full credit for that, because I love who I am, maybe not all of myself but my personality. I have depth.
What do you love about yourself?
What makes you special?
I really, really want to know. I'm quite intriqued by it. I want to be inspired and in turn I want to be inspirational.
What I'm sure won't be my last beginnning but is undoubtably my most recent was the day I tried speed. You have proabably seen those crazy ass posters that make meth seem to be the worst thing ever. The world will always do that, they want to scare you. Let me tell you a secret, meth is as big of a deal as you make it. I'm postitive that it's addictive and I'm sire you let it, it can very easily ruin your life but the whole, 'one time is too many' bullshit they throw up at you... that's all it is:
Bullshit.
You make yourself an addict.
Yes, coming down sucks, when you're starting to stop... the world can be an awful, awful place. You're sure that nothing will ever be fun again. You think about what you did for fun before dope, but thinking about doing it now repulses you, you start to not even understand what was ever appealing about it.
Being spun... it's an experince. You have to have it to understane. I'm not suggesting you all run out and tweak, no, I'm just saying that I can't fully describe this kind of beauty for you. I like that word, beauty; beautiful, can you tell? I use it often. However, I can't use it lightly, I mean it. I mean these things. I believe these things.
But who cares?
You have to, that's what makes any of this relevant. Maybe no one is going to read this, maybe just people who care about me. Of course I want more, not fame but people who are truely inspired by my pain, the true story of who I am. That's what you want isn't it? A story. Well I'll give you one. Hell, I'll give you a bunch. This one is called:
1]. The day Chellie Met Sally (Noel Minnie Minard)
I didn't think I would ever come back to this place. I looked down, "Yeah, Chelsie, pretend your shoes are interesting," My mind even had a sarcastic tone, that's only because today sucked. I thought after missing breakfast and the beginning of first period I wouldn't have to put up with this community circle bullshit, but no. I shifted in the uncomfortable plastic shair, mine was piss yellow but the other options were just as stimulating--burnt prange and pea soup/vomit green.
"Chelsie it's so nice to have you back. What's your answer to the bell question?" Mrs. Smith asked me. I glanced about her gray hair covered head to read the dry-erase board where, in scribbled letters, it asked:
What is your favorite medium?
I couldn't very well tell her a pen, for writing, which is by far my favorite 'medium.' So instead I muttered something about oil pastels. "And what do you like about using pastels?" Everytime I see Mrs. Smith I think about three things.
1. She smells funny. Something like a fish market or maybe a vagina.
2. Her smelling like a vagina kind of makes sense because she's a lesbian.
3. Lastly, I think about her life partner, the other Mrs. Smith. The other Mrs. Smith was the butch lesbian and she had been my basketball coach in eighth grade, She got fired because of us, us as in the basketball team. At Mt. Tipton things are a little different than they would be at a real place, not Dolan Spings is imaginary, oh trust me, it's really here. But if you blink while you're driving through you'll miss it. And I am not exaggerating. Come see for yourself, I'll give you directions. Go to Vegas, keep going... Boulder City... Hoover Dam, lift your feet and make a wish for me at the state line. First you'll pass a couple gas stations, Rosie's Den, White Hills (not literally white, that's just the town's name) and you'll come to a large billboard. At the moment it's advertising the one and only Grand Canyon Skywalk, turn left. You've arrived! We're all very proud of you. Notice the dirt roads? You happen to be driving on the one and only paved one! Mt. Tipton caters to Dolan and the surrounding small towns (White Hills, Meadview, and Chloride) and ever with four towns and 13 grades in one building the number of students doesn't even reach the 500 mark. So the high school has the bare minimum, sports was a very recent addition and one I wasn't there to see. I was there for Jr. High sports, though. They recruited me, "She's tall," They thought, "Of course she'll be good--she's tall."
Mrs. Smith was my coach and she got fired because we got in a fight ar an away game. We got in lots of fights ar games, ever the ones that were held in our own gym. This one was different though, Lake Havisu did not have a female basketball team, they have a team with a girl on in (even thought she didn't like a girl to me). When we started winning they got mad, and their ref made very inappropriate menstrual cycle remarks. Mrs. Smith was right with most of my teammates yelling profanities. We got kicked out of the gym. I scored three baskets that game, the one that didn't count. Anyways, back to smelly Mrs. Smith.
"I like that even if you mess up, you can easily fix it?" Which is true, but I actually hate using pastels. They're messy, you get shit stuck under your fingernails and then you wash your hands and have to deal with dry skin for the rest of the day. Mrs. Smith closed her eyes and nodded and in her nasely voice said, "Ohh... that's right." And thank God, that was good enough for her, so she moved on. She moved on to the new girl, the only person in the room I didn't know even though I hadn't been going to school for the first half of the year. She (the new girl) hadn't moved for TRIBES, the girl who had a blanket; Sally.
And that's her whole parts for today, we didn't even talk that day, but she intrigued me. She had something I didn't have, balls. I admired her appearance of not giving a fuck, I admire everyone like that but Sally became more than that, she eventually because my very best friend.
that