Momma Was An Opium Smoker.

[Picture is of me, by me. Use As you please!]

What’s the use in sighing?
What’s the use in crying
If he’s wandered off the track?
‘Cause if your kisses won’t hold the man you love Then your tears won’t bring him back

Might as well be cheerful
There’s no use being tearful
If he’s given you the sack
‘Cause if your kisses won’t hold the man you love
Then your tears won’t bring him back

I find myself in love with Rasputina, if you have never listened to them, you should. Amazing mix of classical sounds with words that burn into your mind.

Saw The Bastard, My Words Were Sharp As A Blade. Told him he was a fucking bastard, angered him, he left in an angered hurry. Tasha saw him, he said he was done with me, she said he’d been done for a while. I hope he finds happiness in life. Poor, confused, immature child.

Prospective boyfriend in Wisconsin. Twenty One, stable, good job. Two cars. An apartment of his own. Romanticism at his very core. He’s what I’ve been looking for.

I am planning a trip in December to fly and see him. Perhaps this is the one I’ve been looking for, and just when I stopped he crashed into me like a wall.  We’ll see where this goes.

I fear I can no longer handle being depressed, so I’m forcing happiness, fuck being sad, it’s not worth it.

Pierced my nose. Looks fantastic, feel like a new person. More piercings to come.

I hope my dear friend Mike finds life coming as easily as I do, soon. Lord knows he deserves it. Such a kind soul dealt a shitty hand.

School is fine. Life is fine. This boy is wooing me.

Forget All The Things You Knew,

We’ll Make A Very Good Girl Out Of You.

LOVELOVELOVELOVELOVELOVE,

Just Jo Ann.