Shitfaced Novelist

What's up , guys? I haven't really been up to anything lately, just trying to pass school. It just sucks, y'know, because I just keep noticing how all these people around me are just the most inauthetic people. They're all just closet racists, and conservatives, and mosdt of them are so cruel. Behind these veneers of a preppy high school image it's just this open blank thing. Life is just depressing like that. On a brighter note, I got an Austrian pen pal named Marco. As it turns out, he has a twin and listens to the killers, which btw, I do too. That's too freaky, dude. But htose Austrians are some lucky bastards, 'cause they get to choose what kind of high school they go to based on their career interests. I wish I could do that.

My professional life. I've actually written something. It's called Boxcar, and it's about some kids in the 30s who are riding the rails and falling in love with one another. The girl, the protagonist, was raped before they decided to leave and the boy eventually becomes her lover. At the end I think they'll separate, but I'm not quite sure yet. It'll be good though.

Peace and Love,

Imani

As probably assumed by the title above, Barack Obama has won the bid for the '08 presidency. He's become the first black presidnet for one, but that's not the important part. Mr. Obama promises women reproductive freedom (fuck 'til we drop!), a pull-out from the war in Iraq as soon as possible, tax cuts for the middle class, and wil more liokely than not appoint many liberal judges onto the Supreme Court. So, people, this means that we'll soon be back in American technicolor. Besides that, alot of black kids will probably have some hope, and the all-white all-male legacy of presidents might be changing. One black man will hopefully lead to women, asian, latino, and arab americans into high seats of power across the land. All in all, I'm stoked. This makes this person happy, to know that my/our people came to this nation as slaves and have now infiltrated every seat of American power, from college to capitol hill, black faces are everywhere for a sight of visual diversity. But we need more internal diversity, including more differences of religion and of politics. So let the universe/God bless America. All gods, from the nature god to Allah to Jesus Christ. Save us.

My own personal life seems very insignificant now. But anyway, my life is really fucked up right now. I'm just so messed up right now in almost every possible way. I want to drop out of school so badly...ugh. My teachers get on my nerves so fucking much and my school is a total peice of hell. I mean, there's so much stuff going on right now, and I feel like I'm wasting my life here. I should be writing my shit full time, or making music somehow, or helping the sudanese refugees or the millions of girls and women out there being forced to do sex work in brothels around the way. It sucks, becaue I know my whole freaking life will be affected of the shit I'm in now, and I'm seriously a victim in the matter. I'm not whining, but just, like, damn.

My professinal life is nil, but I'll probably write sometihing soon.

Peace and Love,

PurpleDaze112

What's up, guys? Imani, again, out of suicide land for a time. I still hate my school, and my classes, and my peers, and I still want to drop out. Yeah, I just want to drop out of school and move to LA. But, that's not going to happen.

Anyway, it's halloween, and I had a really great day. I put on some chains (homage to my bitch, y'know) and it was pretty cool. Everyone was dressed up, and said bitch, i.e. UB, wasn't wearing his own chains. He was weraing these ghastly clotes and said his costume was a "nigga". (he's black, so it wasn't racist) But he still looked great.

Hopefully, I'm going to go out and chill/party with my buds today. I fucking love halloween.

Peace and Love,

PurpleDaze112

P.S. I decided that I'd like to do something in the music industry as an adult. I still want to be a writer, but being a lyricist would be killer too.

The degree to which I hate my life only grows with each passing day. I hate my classes, my schoolmates, and my goddamn douchebag parents. Hell, the way I'm at it I'll wind up as a bum on the street. But that will be one fawesome street, beacause if I don't get into a great college, I'm going to LA and persuing a full time career as a novelist. Anyway, we had the PSATs yesterday and they were ridiculously easy. I probably got a super high score. Oh yeah, my photography is the most obnoxious, stereotypical group of people I've ever been forced to be with. Ugh.

As for my professional life, I've not done any work lately because I've been so damn stressed and depressed. But, I officially ppolitically endorse Barack Obama for president. Yay B.O.!

Peace and Love,

Imani

This is an entry in which I will be totally real, with none of the usual chipper I manage to build up for this blog. Right now, I am extremely depressed. I really don't want to be alive at the moment, I truly don't. My life is in a way crashing around my feet, and death seems like a good place to go to. I mean, what's the point in holding on for nothing? And so, I'll demonstrate some of what I can do with the skills that do exist.

Time is stretched both before and behind us, moving in a type of whirl we can feel but won't quite stand on. His skin beside mine.

This was in the place between time, and we held eachother before we were born. It's funny, but I'm seeing the old and the young and the never there dead floating there with us. None of us know what we are. Me and Nsia just hope we've not yet been born. That way, we're not going towards the gods and hell. And if we've not been born, I might be born with him and we'll lie together in the real world too.

Sometimes, I imagine the real world. It's calm there and bright. Here we go through a sort of light blue funnel, sliding through the universe. No one even has collor in their eyes yet, we are all black before the lord lightens us. Black, spanning the past and the future. Our skin is still pure, from the elements, or from rape, or from the scorch of the sun. "come closer,"

Nsia has his mouth against my neck, kissing me there and making it breathe. He's soft. His lips are still tender, but his face has the crevices and hardness of skin new across the cheekbones. He's longer than I am, limbs stretching out underneath mine because he'll be, or was, a man some other day. I slide down to let my face meet his, meet his black eyes for a moment, and put my mouth to his. Our tongues slope one over the other while my arms make themslevs lazy around his neck while his move over me.  

That's how good I am, okay?

Peace and Love,

Imani