Monday, December 21, 2009


I lost faith in humanity long ago.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009


I just wanna kiss you.
I just wanna rap to you.
I just wanna sing for you.
I just wanna jump on you.
I just wanna dance around you.
I just wanna tell you retarded things.
I just wanna look pretty for you everyday.
I just wanna smoke with you, like old times.
I just wanna hold hands in our totally cool way.
I just wanna take walks through the park with you.
I just wanna wrestle with you, and have it turn sexual.
I just wanna sit and watch you get fancy with the spices.
I just wanna stay up until 5 a.m., lying next to you, talking.
I just wanna steal all of your clothes, so that you stay naked.
I just wanna scream from the rooftops, "I love Roman Pakieser!"
I just wanna steal your combs, because I'm unprepared, yet again.
I just wanna look at the puppies with you, reminding myself, "soon."
I just wanna smack your butt, and then run away before I get caught.
I just wanna play HALO until I beat you, and you act like you let me win.
I just wanna let you scare the hell out of me, just so you can make it better.
I just wanna kiss random parts of your face, until you awaken each morning.

I just wanna love you forever.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

To put it simply,

It's too hard for me to talk to you every day.
I break down and cry every time.
I'm not slipping away, I'm saving myself.
It may be selfish, but it hurts.

I wish you were here,
I miss every single ounce of you.

"And whenever I want to kiss you, yeah.
All I've Gotta Do,
Is whisper in your ear,
The words you long to hear.
Yeah, that's All I've Gotta Do."

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

I love Roman Pakieser.

The only stable part of my life.

You are the best decision I have ever made.

Friday, June 19, 2009

Dear Roman,

This letter is one I'm typing via my online blogger, which only one other person has access to. It's a safe place, I promise. I need to think about what I say before I say it, and here, I can. I simply hit that silly little 'delete' key, and my thoughts are mended and are easier to comprehend. In a way, my ADD is cured. Don't worry, this is NOT a break-up letter, or anything of the sort. Baby, if I lost you... I wouldn't be strong enough to continue on. That wasn't some stupid line off the internet, either. So, here is what I have to say:

I can't bear the sight of couples around me. I can't look at cute couple pictures, and I can't stand cute love songs anymore. I question the world around me. Why is it fair that people like Kevin and Lung-fucking-Chung, my mom and dad, and even fucking Chantu get to be happy? I had to sit behind Kevin and Lung-Chung in the court room on Wednesday. Kevin had his arm around her, and was rubbing her back, just the way you used to rub mine. I burst into tears. Those two people don't even deserve to be happy. They're manipulative, and sneaky, and they are both liars. It doesn't make sense. Then, I saw my parents hugging and kissing tonight at the dinner table, in Bugaboo Creek, the restaurant. Being cute and loving each other. I burst into tears. They, without question, do not deserve to be happy. My mother is all of the things in the world that I despise the most, and my father, immature and abusive. Finally, there is Chantu. She's screwed up FOUR fucking relationships she's had. ENGAGEMENTS no less, and yet, she gets to be happy meeting new guys and clubbing with her friends. She gets chance after chance to be happy. Why is it that they get to be happy, and you and I don't? It's like, the world is sadistic, and twisted. We didn't do anything to deserve any of this. Nothing. If anything we were the most helpful and giving, and forgiving of anyone we know.

I feel like, not only have I lost my best friend, my boyfriend, and my other half, but I have also lost, the only person who believes in me, the only person that trusts me, and the only person who believes that we'll make it, through thick and thin. No one believes that you and I are going to be happy, and live in Poland, and get married, and have babies together, and spend the rest of our lives in each others loving, caring, trusting arms. No one has any faith in our relationship. It's just me and you.

When I can't see you, or speak to you, or be near you, or contact you, I'm alone. At that point. I let the world come crashing onto my shoulders. Whether it's trying to help Cheryl, a woman who is, was, and will always be horrible to me, or trying to make my mom less upset, by being nice to her, even though I don't owe her anything but hatred, or whether it's putting my own happiness aside to make sure that no one worries about me, letting everyone else blame me for why they're having a tough time. Well you know what? I'm having a tough time. I lost my fucking boyfriend to jail, I have a mom who loves to make it her life's work to make me miserable, a dad that doesn't believe in me at all, a brother who loves to throw me under the bus when everyone else is too, I have no friends, and no one to turn to but you. Guess what? You're not here. I don't have you, I can't call you when I'm crying, and I can't see you when I miss you. I can't kiss you whenever I want. I can't do anything with you. This feels worse than if you broke up with me. I'm not saying you should break up with me, because that would fucking DEVASTATE me, but.. you know? It's just awful. I'm not even trying to complain to you, I'm just trying to comprehend my own feelings, and share them with you.

I miss you. I miss everything about you. Which obviously my other letters have explained. But I keep having to repeat myself because as I go on without you, I miss you more and more with each passing day. With the increase of missing you, comes the incomparably large increase of my love for you. I know that we'll make it. The struggle is so hard for me, but we will make it. I'm giving this my all, Roman. I'm giving this everything that I have left from everything that has happened to me.

I think about the future, and I get scared. I wonder, just like you do, what happens when you go to college. Although we will be attending the same college (FOR SURE), I wonder what's going to happen when you meet new girls, and go to parties, and make new friends. I worry that you'll forget all about me. Please don't think it's because I don't trust you, because, baby.. if you knew how I felt about you, you would NEVER doubt my love, or trust, or respect for you ever again. It's an inadequacy that I see in myself that makes me scared. I see no reason in myself for you to want to be with me and only me. I mean, I know that you're happy, and that you love me, and I rely on that. I feel that you love me. I've never had that. I'm used to the opposite of how you treat me. You treat me like your everything.

I'm trying to understand why you love me. You're helping me out alot, you know? You're getting me to see that maybe there is something about me that might make someone happy. It's just going to take me time to understand. But I'm so fucking glad that you love me the way you do because I'm crazy about you; head over heels; completely intoxicated by your existence. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect man to fall into my lap. I couldn't have dreamed up a guy with half of your qualities. There isn't a single thing I dislike about you..

Envy? Yes.
I envy that:
  • You can speak French and Polish with out a second thought.
  • You can be so strong after so much hurt.
  • You can cook the most delicious chicken ever.
  • You could take me in a fair fight. [ ;) ]
  • You have a hero to look up to.
  • You give everyone respect even when they don't deserve it.
So, yes. I envy you. I envy that you can survive so well on your own. I respect you. I honor you. I love you. You are HANDS DOWN the best thing that has ever happened to me in my life. I feel like the reason why this struggle is so hard for me, is because I'm terrified of losing you. I always have been, and this feels like I've lost you. Even if you haven't actually left me. You know?

Here's what will come of us.
-You will get out of jail.
-You and I will move in together.
-You and I will go to Ocean City.
-You and I will go to Skyesville Insane Asylum.
-I will turn 18, and we will move to Poland.
-You and I will go to school in Poland.
-You and I will get married.
-You and I will have three babies.
-You and I will always be together.

One million and seven years, baby. That will never change. I'm sure. The most sure I've ever been in my entire life. I will always be yours, and you will always be mine. I know this. Besides, I already ate your heart so it could be closer to mine, silly!

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I love you. I love you. I fucking love the hell out of you, Roman. :D

Tonight, I will be saying goodnight to you, and going to sleep with thoughts of you in my mind.

Forever Yours,

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

He's in jail.
I don't wanna talk about it.
I just want my boyfriend back.
All I can say to myself is, "I want my boyfriend back," with tears in my eyes.

But, I will tell you:

He didn't do anything wrong.
My life is in danger, as is his.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

We chose names!


Isabelle (Izzi)
Danielle (Danni)


Only a few more hours.
It's funny.
I really am counting down the hours.
God damnit, I miss you.


I love you, Roman. <3

Saturday, May 16, 2009

I hope you kill yourself. :)

Thursday, May 14, 2009

If you like it, then you shoulda put a ring on it.

Soon. :)

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

We're moving into our first place soon.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

I noticed you.

Something in her face reminds me how flawed she really is.
I'm sensitive; easily bruised; a battered peach.

The exterior, a fragile layer of feeling.
Taken over by imperfections,
Impressions; indentations.
Growing towards the center,
Reaching, contaminating.
A glimmer of hope,
Pushing forth from the center, outwards.
Two forces collide.
Last chance, you lose.
A battered peach, rotting away.


"I have a heart, you know?"
The only phrase playing through my mind.

I feel awful knowing that my mother wastes her time worrying about me, and caring about me and loving me.
I feel awful knowing that the sole reason my mother is having heart problems is because I couldn't be another miscarriage for her.
I feel awful knowing that my mother hates me and hates living with me.
I feel awful knowing that I forgot to wish my mom a Happy Birthday on her birthday because I know that I've ruined her life. She deserved one day.
I feel awful knowing that I made my mother into an alcoholic.
I feel awful knowing that I'm the entire center of my mom and dad's marital issues.
I feel awful knowing that since my brother was little, all I've done is slowly ruin his life and make everything harder for him in the long run.
I feel awful knowing that my brother thinks I'm this immature little girl that fucks everything up for everyone else.
I feel awful knowing that I let everyone down by "dropping out" of high school.
I feel awful knowing that my mother thinks I'm a huge disappointment.
I feel awful knowing that my mother was forced to work on her birthday, getting flowers ready for a prom and a graduation that her daughter will never get to go to because she's a fuck-up.
I feel awful knowing that you think I'm a burnout.
I feel awful knowing that my close friends could easily replace me in their lives when I needed people the most.
I feel awful knowing that I can't even successfully kill myself because I'm too fucking scared.

I have a heart. I have a fucking heart. I swear to God I do.


You know what finally broke my heart?
You lied to me.
You said nothing happened.
I read it on your fucking blog.
Then, I proceeded to cry my eyes out.
Thank you for finally pulling the trigger.
That silly gun had been dangling there for sometime.
It looked better in my mouth, anyway.

You wanna talk about pregnancy scares, girl? Well, let me know when you get to my level. I've had too many to count. I, too, got to spend the last three weeks dealing with the possibility of having a fucking baby living and breathing in my uterus. Do you understand how I felt? Terrified of disappointing my parents? Realizing I'd have to kill a person in my stomache, if I was? Knowing that I'd be this incredible mother, but knowing I'd have to give it up? Afraid of hurting Roman, the one person I actually have, by getting rid of it? Wondering if I should just toss myself down the stairs and pretend like nothing ever existed? You don't understand. You couldn't. Yours didn't come with pressure. Mine came with pressure, and disappointment. No choice would have been safe. Don't you dare act like I don't know how it feels to be scared of pregnancy. I bawled my eyes out every fucking day, thinking about how excited Roman was about us having a baby together, and how brokenhearted he'd be when I told him I couldn't do it. Hearing the disappointment in his voice when I explained that "i'm just not ready, I can't do it." Wondering if my baby was supposed to be the next President of the US, or the person with the cure for AIDS.

A best friend, during a pregnancy scare, might have mentioned that the reason they're having the pregnancy scare is because said, "best friend" almost fucked your crush from the last 6 or 7 years. Or maybe best friend's shouldn't lie and said nothing happened, so that a person wouldn't blow off the idea that their best friend could be pregnant. A best friend probably wouldn't have gone with a girl, who she claims to be unable to stand, to get her pregnancy test. I mean, it's all hypothetical, though.

We are not the same. Do not compare us.
The difference between us is clear.

You will be stuck here because you don't try hard enough to get yourself out. It's not going to happen for you, you have to earn it. Fuck you for acting like my life is a piece of fucking cake, and I get everything. My parents don't do shit for me. Yeah, I got to drop out, it came with being labeled a failure by anyone that ever mattered, and being constantly ostracized by, what birth calls, my family. Or wait, how about the fact that my parents tell me when I'm allowed to be home, and when I am, I'm not allowed to eat their food without paying. How's them apples? I found my little, tiny, avenue out. I left you alone for one week. One fucking week. If you really broke down from my non-existence in your life so much that you boarded the S.S.ChrisTEASE, then our friendship certainly isn't healthy for you anyway.

Here's another thing, you drink for your own reasons.
You have no idea why I do what I do.
Hell, you don't know anything about me.

These are not my reasons for smoking pot.
-It brings us out of this horrifying reality into something better.
-It's social.
-It's fun.
-It would drive our parents crazy.

I smoke for these reasons:
-To help myself focus because of my ADD.
-To help me expand my thoughts.
-To feed my addiction.
-To finally open myself up to someone. (Roman.)

"I don't think I've changed much.
I'm still fucking weird. I'm still me."

YOU are not YOU.
Evan killed you.
Now all you do is:
-Get fucked up.
-Flirt with everyone.
-Hang out with Christine.
-Complain about everything that isn't suiting you.

"And even if I have, why aren't I allowed to change?
God knows she has."
I grew up. You just.. changed. They are not the same thing.

"I think she's just too burnt out to recognize me."
Considering you've taken virtually no time to call or text me on my phone in the last month, you can shut the fuck up. You have no idea what burnt out is. You have no idea what's going on with me. I think my GED scores prove that you're moronic if you think for a second that I am burnt out. No seriously, Katt. That crossed the fucking line. Screw you. Maybe you're just too much of an alcoholic to finally see that you're making mistake after mistake in your life. Did that one sting? Good, now we're even.

"'I rolled the best blunt of my life today, I'm so excited.'
'I thought you said you were quitting?'
'No, yeah. I am. Today was my last one.'
She had said that a week before."
I was quitting for Roman.
Roman told me he'd be more upset if I didn't quit.
I dont' even smoke everyday.
Does it matter?
You drink way more than I smoke,
and even if you didn't,
you'd die before me anyway
considering marijuana's versus alcohol's
effects on the body.
So, if you could kindly shut the fuck up about my smoking,
it'd be appreciated.
It's simply hypocritical
considering you used to love smoking more than I did.
All you did was move onto alcohol, a worse demon.

"The only differences are that she dropped out of school a month before graduation, and I'm still trying."
^^ That does not make you better than me.

"She found an outlet, somewhere to get away to, and I am stuck here."
You're only here as long as you stay. Want out? Earn it.

"Her parents let her do whatever she wants, and I'm still shaking in my bones."
Grow up, take control of your situation. It's your life.
They don't let me do anything. I choose what happens to me.
My choices effect me. Your choices effect you.
Don't let your mother or your brothers or your teachers or anyone manipulate you.
If you were a puppet, you'd have strings.

...and just in case you cared, I passed my GED test with flying colors.
i got a:
when I should have only gotten a:

Friday, April 3, 2009

Spring break starts now.
Mari-Jane and Lucy.
Gosh, I love you two. <3


Danny's on his way.
I get to see Roman today!
Maybe I'll have a good day?


<(^_^<) (>^_^<) (>^_^)>

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

The Colder Water

"I can't take my eyes off of you."

God, I wish someone would say that to me.

It's good to know:
that people you barely know, care more about you
than people that have been with you for..
what is it now.. six years? Seven?
You didn't even fucking check up on me.
Have a nice time with your life, dear.
I'd appreciate it if all of you would kindly
go fuck yourselves.
It's good to know:
that the last two people you'd expect
to be there for you when you need a friend,
are the two people that smothered the burning coals of your heart.
I love you both.
Thank you.
"I'd wish ill upon you, but frankly, I'm selfish."
God, I wish it wasn't true.
You should have seen her eyes.
I've never seen such hatred.
Put the blame on me.
It's always my fault anyway.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

I haven't had time to think or reflect on myself and my choices.
Everything has changed, though:

It's like Cody said,

"When I'm sober the world is so much more different.
I feel like I'm in a box and the walls are closing in.
I'm almost Claustrophobic here."

When I am sober:

-I hate myself.
-I care what others think.
-I'm worried/scared/paranoid.
- I fear.

-I cannot focus and I'm too talkative.
-I don't eat.
-I don't sleep.

When I am high:
-I have physical and emotional apathy.
-I am focused and quiet.
-I do what I have to do.
-I'm always smiling.
-I can have a coherent thought and share it.

I do not fear the future.
I fear myself.

I become this creature of the darkness when I'm sober. I fear being sober because I fear feeling the way reality makes me feel. Reality harbors my demons. When I leave my house to sneak out and smoke, I pass by this old fence that is behind my house, outside my fence, after you exit my yard, through the back gate. It's dark when I sneak out, so obviously there are shadows, but I have never feared leaving my house and walking to the plaza parking lot. The last few times I have snuck out.. I've been seeing these shadows. Strange figures pass through the light. My body tinges up with fear at the sight. It's only been when I'm sober, though. I've been through there tens, hundreds, thousands of times when I was high or intoxicated, but my sober reality always gets my goat. You know? I dislike everyone right now. I have no desire to be around anyone. Minus the few people who smoke with me because they are those few people who share a passion for something that I enjoy. My friends and I aren't really friends. I get invited to their parties, or to see them, but it's not like we're close anymore. I don't have any close friends anymore. The group has managed to replace me with Christine Simmons. Of all of the fucking places int he world that that girl could go, why does she have to come into MY group. The one fucking place I was finally at home. They go out to lunch with her, they hang out with her in classes or talk to see her after school. Katt is becoming her. FUCK THAT. Where the hell did MY Katt go? I don't want this new one who loves singing along to shitty rap songs in the car, or who acts dumber than dirt when she thinks it's cute. I'm not trying to have my best friend be Christine Simmons, but I'm sure I'm too late. I mean, if my best friend can't understand me, who the fuck else should, right?

Here are other things I need to say:

I don't care if the song reminds you of something negative. Deal with it, and get over it. Eventually, you'll run out of songs. Eventually, you'll run out of love for music because noting good will ever come from the songs you relay as negative for your memory's sake.

I don't care what your opinion is on how I run my life. Please stop fucking telling me that I will amount to nothing, or that what I'm doing is not healthy, or that I should "take a break" because "people are worried" about me. Fuck that shit. I've gone my whole life with basically no one giving two shits about me. You think I'm going to start letting people care now?

I don't care about how much fun you had at the party the other night, or about just how drunk you really were. If I cared about knowing how drunk you were I prolly would have gone.

I don't care that you're a slut anymore. It's just.. not my problem. You really wanna change it? Then change it, but I haven't seen progress, yet. I will admit, however, I don't like being around you when you're like that, so maybe I just haven't been able to observe you enough.I hate when people stare at you as you pass by, but don't say "hello" or smile back at you.

I hate when you act like you are holier than God. Fuck that, man. There's no fucking way.

I hate when people tell pointless stories that I don't even give a shit about. Keep it to yourself.

I hate the fact that I'm so lonely, but I have all these guys pursuing me. Why can't I just like them enough to date them or enough to have some sort of connection?

I hate it when the cops pull you over for a simple traffic violation and then take your marijuana.

I hate that my dealer lives so far because I could be makin' some mad bank right now.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

A Fuck-Up.

I can feel it weaving through my veins

Staring me down.
Bullying me.
Ready to tear me limb from limb.

What a bad fucking start.

(The x's are the ones I've already fucked up.)
xx-There will be no more love/lust for Cam'ron Tabatabai or Joe Benny.
x-There will be no more cheating on boyfriends.
x-There will be no more play time with Katrina Suzanne.
x-There will be no more lying to my parents.
x-There will be no more trusting in others.
x-There will be no more irresponsibility.
xxxxxxxx-There will be no more over-thinking.
x-There will be no more bad eating habits.
x-There will be no more epic proportions of laziness.
x-There will be no more borrowing money.
x-There will be no more splurging on commodities.

(The x's are things I've succeeded in.)
-There will be one man or woman in my life, at a time.
-There will be smiling. Lots of it.
-There will be freedom.
-There will be family.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx-There will be marijuana.
-There will be a job.
-There will be a car.
-There will be something new.

&& Hopefully, there will be a lot of Kurt Damare.

That last line tore my heart out.
Because I know that I meant it.
I know that I STILL fucking mean it.

There are so many things I need to get off my chest.
Because they are screaming obscenities in my ears.

Every demon I have I can picture with a face.
Does that frighten you? Can you handle it?

All of Kurt's friends love me.
Jean-Claude Cruz.
Diego Laird.
Jordan Prescott.
Sam Damare.


I am really really lonely without you.
I'm really lonely when I'm with friends.
I'm really lonely when I'm home alone.
I'm really lonely on the computer.
I'm really lonely on the phone.
I only feel happy when I'm high,
or when you are talking to me.
How pathetic.


Here are a few simple statements that can describe me:

  • My heart is taken.
  • I have no motivation to live other than Katrina Suzanne.
  • I have no motivation to graduate.
  • I have no urge to succeed.
  • Weed is the only thing that makes me smile.
  • I fuck with everyone's emotions for my sick-twisted pleasure.
  • I'm legitimately crazy.
  • I'm going to sleep with Kurt's close friend.
Fuck this stupid post. I'M OUT, SON.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Kurt Damare


That's what he sends me when he misses me,
or when he wants to talk to me,
but does not really have anything to say.
It's his excuse to talk to me.
Baby, I crave that silly little excuse.

I kissed a boy.
His name was not Kurt Damare.
His name was Joe Benny.
While Joe Benny and I have not kissed in months.
I secretly regret it.
One, because it will keep me attached.
Which, it has managed to do in a matter of moments.
Two, because I love Kurt Damare.

I kissed a boy.
His name still was not Kurt Damare.
His name was Cam'ron Tabatabai.
While I have not seen Cam'ron Tabatabai in over two years.
I secretly regret it.
One, because it will keep me attached.
Which, it has managed to do in a matter of moments.
Two, because I love Kurt Damare.

I miss a boy.
His name was Kurt Damare.
His name will always be Kurt Damare.
While, I wish and hope that he will love me back.
I secretly know he won't.
One, because I make too many mistakes.
Which, I have successfully proven in the chances he's provided.
Two, because I know Kurt Damare better than anyone on this Earth.

He was nice to me.
That Kurt Damare, boy?
He was gentle and kind.
He was thankful, and sweet.
That is the Kurt Damare that I miss.
Actually, I even miss asshole Kurt Damare.

Every time I cross a railroad track,
I hold my breath and lift my feet.
The wish I utter to myself,
Is that of you loving me back.
It's a worthless wish.
But I'll never stop trying.
I dont' give up that easily.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Up to the surface; Try not to make waves...

I feel like singing sad songs all night
I feel like tuning you out
do you want to make it in to more of a fight
is this yelling what love’s all about?

so go on, and tear me apart
yeah just go on in straight for my chest
and maybe it’s mostly my fault
’cause if I’m the only girl you ever had
I guess I can’t be the best
can’t be the best

and I feel like falling asleep while you scream
I feel like tuning you out
do you want to stand up and make a big scene?
put the lid down, pick up the dog shit, and shut your mouth

so go on, and tear me apart
yeah just go on in straight for my chest
and maybe it’s mostly my fault
’cause if I’m the only girl you ever had
I guess I can’t be the best
can’t be the best

and I feel like singing sad songs all night

I am not a narcissist.
That was crossing the line.
I definitely loathe my appearance.
This just further proves the awful truth.
You really just don't know anything about me.

I get my heart broken a lot.
It doesn't ever seem to heal.
No one gets that I'm sensitive.
I guess I'm a ridiculously good liar.
Will someone please see through me?

I don't feel like I have much of anything anymore.
I mean, sure, I have people I hang out with.
I'm not sure they are real friends, though.
I guess I'm in a bit of a depressed state.
Maybe I'm just over-thinking? Hmm..