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Archive for September, 2002

Give blood!

I went in to try to give blood today, but they laughed at me! :

Anyhow! Please donate blood everybody! There’s a critical blood shortage right now!

A question.

How can people chastise me for not knowing who I am, and constantly changing myself and my views when I don’t even know what I want for dinner? Let alone one of the more difficult understandings in life. . .

I feel blah.

I like the K…. Family!

Anyhow, this is an innocuous post about crap that nobody will ever care about but me. I think I shall remember this as the “I like the K.. Family!” post. What does this mean, you say? Well, my name starts with a K. As does Kiwanis. As in the largest community service organization in the world.

But please read more deeply than that.

The world is a beautiful place.


At work right now and they’re laying carpet in the next room w/ the door open about 3 feet away from me. I feel really dizzish/high. I think it’s from the lack of oxygen.


I need to start writing again. Writing is my therapy. It’s a cold draught of water on a hot day. It’s what keeps me wanting to go on sometimes… Spilling out all the beans isn’t enough because I need to know what happens next in my story. What happens, Kim? In your adventures with so and so… and him… and her… and how is your fish?

Forget trying to make people think, or worrying about whether or not a subject is acceptable. Forget making sure I don’t sound like an idiot… for get even fixing erroneous spelling after I’ve posted something.

Ah, this will probably be my hardest transition yet.

Scared of Forgetfulness

I’ve been really forgetful lately — moreso than usual and this scares me. Even though everything else seems to be functioning normally, I’ve just been a wreck with my forgetfulness. I left my phone at the bf’s house… then left my keys at the front door… then left my keys in the trunk of my car. Not only is this a rather dangerous situation (I can’t afford to lose my keys at the moment), but it also signals the impending return of the horrible and debilitating — depression. OOoOooOo *spooky music plays*.

I’m going to curl up into the fetal position and be scared now. Better yet… I’m going to go make copies of my keys now.

This is neat…

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Neglected and thrown away, the old journal weeps in the back of her mind, ignored because she has found better things. Months later, the old friend is picked up once again to become her mind’s dumping ground of idiotic and pointless words.


Those words become twisted in her mind to become words that tell her she can’t go on living. Sadness turns to hate as she seeks ways to punish herself for the things that others have done to her. What does it all mean? Simply that she’s just stupid enough to listen to their words.


I suppose I should say something about this, put my own piece in with the rest.

Other than the few obvious facts, the dying economy, the flying flags waving in the air, the new sense of nationalism, and a sad and detached feeling of loss, I feel awful because I can’t tell you exactly how much 9/11 has had an effect on my life — so many things would have changed regardless of whether or not the events occured. 9/11 struck days before I left for college, and needless to say this has been one of the more tumultuous years of my life. Would it have been if 9/11 had not happened? Most likely. Would it have been different if it hadn’t? Most definately. Looking back to one year from today, I can hardly imagine how I must have been, how different America was, and how much pain has been suffered on and since that day.

The events of 9/11 and the subsequent reactions have hovered like a shadow around every corner throughout this year. It’s been there to darken the lightest and darkest of days and I can’t stand to comprehend the terrible pain that has been thrust upon the nameless faceless, the ones I’ve seen on TV, and people that I’ve known (or worse, cared for). It’s too much for my weak mind to take on.

It’s still difficult for me to watch the news sometimes.

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