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I'll be seeing you....

Not only do I have this psychotic, cocaine snorting, jack daniels drinking, violent boyfriend to deal with every day...
Not only have I been raped and beaten on my ENTIRE life....
Not only do I have no money, and no where to go if I leave said boyfriend....

Now, suddenly, it's all my fault.
Suddenly, it's become such a "simple" and "easy" thing, to dump someone like Armand.

It literally makes me feel like throwing up, crying and laughing hysterically all at the same time.

You ignorant fucking swine.

In 15 minutes, Madison time, it's going to be done.


I'm ready to transcend. 

A little bumble bee came to me and he said that if I jump, I can fly away, like a bird....

I'm ready to fly.

The next time you see me, i'll be a Princess in Hell.


-Suzie Q

A good friend of mine, who commited suicide 4 years ago.... his birthday is today.
I love you, Smiley.
You could have saved my life if you were around, now.
I miss you.
Because afterall... you're my wonderwall.
Happy Birthday.


I'm sick of human beings.

I scream for help, and all I get is nothing, or people who insist on being rude.

If you don't understand my situation, that's fine. Understandable.
But don't put me down. Don't be condescending. Don't make fun of me. Laugh behind my back.

Make me out to be a freak....

You never know what a person is going through, or has been through.
You never know when someone is going to give up.
You never know what will be the comment that picks up a knife and slices all her veins wide open.

I know it's not easy to understand.
Me doing cocaine, living with an abusive boyfriend, being a stripper to get a little cash so I can get said cocaine.

But step into someone elses shoes for once. It's not as simple.... as it seems.

Leave him, leave him, leave him.
I'm afraid. I'm afraid becaue I weigh 100 lbs and he could overpower me in seconds.
I'm scared because he'd rather see me dead, than not with him.
I'm afraid because I can't go cold turkey,  a million miles away from everyone I know.
Running from him.
I'm scared because I have nothing to go home to.
I'm scared because i'm in Paris, and I don't speak any fucking French.
I'm afraid because the only other option is my parents, and they're worse than he is.
I'd rather be beaten up by my boyfriend, than raped by my father.

I don't know.

I guess you can't help it if you're an asshole, but at least leave me the fuck alone, while you're doing whatever it is that pieces of shit do.

God... what am I talking about? I've already decided to die.
What difference does anything make now?



Armand can't keep his hands off of me..... and not in a good way.

I feel like everything is falling apart. The world has cracked open and i'm tumbling down.... down.... down..... down....... my stomach in my chest and my skin tearing to pieces.
I feel like I was thrown into a black hole and am imploding in on myself.


Armand is out of control. The fighting is out of control. The cocaine is out of control. I'm out of control. I keep seeing things, everywhere I go. People without faces. Knights without eyes, blood dripping from the sockets. Queens with no heads. Kings without tongues and hands. It's terrifying.....

I can't go anywhere. I don't even know where I am anymore. Armand is out there, he wants to see my brains on the floor. He wants to pull my hair. He has turne into a pig, i'm afraid of him, he's pig he's a pig, he's a pig he's apig. swine. swine.swine....

I'm goign to be sick if I stay here. I'll throw up all over the place. I'll ruin my princess dress and my shoes.

Where's Deja? 

But she breaks just like a little.... girl.

I think about Ivy all the time.
I haven't heard from her in days and days.
Maybe she's dead.....
Maybe. Just maybe.
I miss her.
I want to go home.

I think Armand fractured my finger.
I just wanted to watch Spongebob Squarepants....

My mother raised me Catholic,

but God is dead.

like lovers through the glass.

I didn't get to see Deja today.


So I sat at the place all day, tootin blow with my boyfriend Armand, and watching Reading Rainbow and Courage the Cowardly Dog.

Oh, how I love that cowardly dog....

it smells like stale cigarettes in here. I would clean but there's nothing to clean off. No furniture really, except for an old blue chair in the corner, and this stupid, staticky, black and white TV, that only gets PBS and some other French channels.

I'll sneak out tonight and go to see her.
We always meet at the la palaise de arts bridge, that goes over the Seine.

Maybe i'll kiss her tonight.
Probably not.
I feel too much like Medusa tonight.

That One Girl.....

Wow, my first journal post.

I used to keep a journal when I was younger, but just sort of forgot about it.

I wouldn't want to read those God foresaken pages anyways.

Today, I went around the city with Deja, while Armand (my boyfriend) was at work. We ate funnel cake and then we tried to mimic a mime. It's harder than it looks!

I am in love with her and.... she doesn't even have a clue.


What am I going to do with myself?

On the other hand, Armand hasn't returned, and I need my fix.

I'm addicted to cocaine. That was supposed to change when I moved to Paris. It didn't.

-Susie Q