F.O.R.E.V.E.R. Fake B.S., Obsessive, Retarded, Erratic, Voodoo, Evil, Repulsive.

Last Update: Oct. 24 2010
[/font]Forever

For Steve
My childhood ex fiancé



October 20, 2009

Life Sucks.
I just want to put that there. My intro to my journal: Life Sucks Balls.

Little meaning
Inconvenient
Fucked up
Ending of hope

My name is Brooke; I’m 15 sporting a fucked attitude. I like that word, fuck. It could mean a lot of things; I have to say it is the most beautiful word in the English language. I have red-brown hair. But I’m not a ginger, believe me, I have a soul. A fucked soul, but it is a soul. I have green eyes; no freckles so stop imaging me as a ginger. Don’t wonder my race because I have everything, I’ma American mutt. I dyed a purple streak in my hair with some kool-aid because I like purple, almost as much as I like the word fuck. I prefer the color black in clothing, but I will wear other colors. Jeans, shirts, and sometimes a dress if I feel up to looking extra fucked for the day. I wouldn’t count myself as E.M.O-tional…But I do like their style. I live in down town Chicago. I go to high school. I have friends. I want a boyfriend that cares. I don’t have a boyfriend. My ass itches. I don’t like writing in you right now.

October 21, 2009

It’s Wednesday. I don’t like Wednesdays. It’s in the middle of the week, like it’s sitting on the fence wondering what to do. Stop wondering and make it the weekend already. My friend came over today. Her name is Mary. Mary had squares.

Mary had some little squares, Little squares, Little squares, Mary had some little squares, With light buds that glowed. Everywhere that Mary went, Mary went, Mary went, Everywhere that Mary went, She takes a square to go.

Squares are smokes. I smoke, only a little, Mary does it a lot though. She is also the supplier of the school. So she rakes in the cash while she gets them for free because her father owns a business for them. I don’t know where my Father is. He left me when I was younger with my Mother who is kind of confused. I don’t want to write anymore.

October 22, 2009

I kind of thought about my ex boyfriend today. I hate him. He has bushy eyebrows but one sexy body...His name is Trevor. Everything is his fault. Fell down the stairs? Trevor's fault. My computer isn’t loading.... Trevor’s fault. I'm heart broken, Trevor's fucking fault. My T.V. is calling me and wants to talk. Got to go journal.  

October 25, 2009 

Mondays suck more then Wednesdays. They suck because they are SURE they want to be a shitty day. I feel bad for being crappy on my writing to you, I guess I can try and explain more to you about my ex. Trevor has probably sparked some interest? It’s always fun to watch from the sidelines I suppose. Trevor is the worst ex you can have. He’s pretty hot, pretty sexy, pretty tempting… his voice is like velvet…lined with spikes. We’d been together for a whole year; everything was great besides the fact he almost got shot. Oh and how I tried to kill myself 2 times…and the fact he was addicted to drugs for a while and I wanted to cut and we both had to deal with each other bitching about our addictions. He is now dating my best friend. Well she was my best friend for a long time since we were younger. It was Trevor’s fault. It’s even his fault for it being Monday today. Anyway, I have to give Clare credit for calling and telling me first hand she’d fallen for Trevor. Though, it wasn’t like they were friends in the start like Trevor and I. She kind of skipped on in as soon as Trevor and I started having fights. Ironic isn’t it? Well of course in the end, I got my way because I can be cool like that but Clare and Trevor were both on the edge of suicide and I couldn’t take it. I demanded they get back together and forget all about me. Clare didn’t do it until I threaten to cut myself again…but it still gives me the right to hate both of them and blame them for this shitty Monday.

October 26, 2009 

Happy Tuesday. It’s late; I had a lot of homework. Sorry for writing so late to you. I also went to GSA today, Gay Strait Alliance. If you go to the after school one its basically a big therapy session. It’s nice. I wish I had found it when I was breaking up with Trevor. But maybe they can bandage up a few of the hidden wounds I left open under my wrists. 

October 27, 2009 

Stupid unsure Wednesday…all Trevor’s fault. I dressed extra fucked today. I’m in a good mood today. So anyway with the Trevor thing, I know that’s all you can think about. Well let’s talk about Clare. She has black hair, un-natural but it isn’t kool-aid so it isn’t that bad. She’s a big girl, but not fat, just really tall. I met her in 3rd grade. I didn’t talk because I had a fucked childhood. And this kind of fuck wasn’t a good fuck. But that isn’t our focus today. She had been open to me, she showed me love, and she held me when I was sad. Years passed and so did the drugs. Our looks shifted, and so did our hearts. Our minds grew complex, and our trust grew apart. Clare longed for a boyfriend that was stable, and I longed a boyfriend that could hold me, that wouldn’t fight with me at nights, or leave questions un-answered. That would look through my eyes for once, and not through his. That wouldn’t always say I’m wrong and maybe think about how his words could bring me down like a whip. I also wanted a new adventure, this one I had was becoming a hazard to my health and my over all happiness. So I guess I kind of wanted Clare to go with Trevor, but all at the same time, I wanted them both dead.  

October 28, 2009 

Thursday. Almost the weekend, which reminds me I didn’t tell you about last weekend. I went to a party. It was pretty epic. I met a boy there who went by the name Dan. His real name is Danny, its just Dan. He was 17, and hotter then Trevor. He was pretty fucked up. Perfect strait dark brown hair that he’d flip from his eyes at the right moment and his little green eyes would glitter when he noticed you staring. He had crooked half smirk wearing skinny jeans and a V cut shirt showing some band. I didn’t care about the band; I cared about how much his muscles shown through the band shirt. For the whole party I would grow closer and closer prowling until the right moment. I got that moment, and we were off chatting and laughing. His personality is kind of sketchy, high school drop out (go figure) but he dropped out for some girl he was supposed to marry to go to her private high school or some shit. I didn’t pay attention because the girl wasn’t me. Other then that he seemed pretty fine. His personality showed he’d never hurt a girl and he had respect for them unless they hurt him. Similar to myself I suppose. I got his number, hell yeah I got his number. I’ma marry that boy. Sorry I know you don’t want to hear about that journal. Yet he seems so familiar…whatever. I’m tired. Night.  

October 29, 2009  

I remembered who he was. I had a ‘bad romance’ with him when I was in a huge fight with Trevor. But then I went back to Trevor and made it clear that I didn’t want a full relationship with him nor did I want Trevor to know. Ha, look at me now. Shoulda took him while I had the chance. 

November 1, 2009

I didn’t see Dan over the weekend. I’m kind of scared to. I remembered what he was and makes me wonder if he remembers. Dan had helped me a lot through the break up with Trevor…even after I sort of rejected him. But I’ll go more into detail when I actually DID first meet him. I met him at some park or some shit, got his number, talked to him once, didn’t talk again for months. Well we ran into each other at a party after I had gotten into a huge fight with Trevor and he was like: “Oh I remember you!” and we talked again. Well I was more of a person he’d use for entertainment then ditch me for months at a time. I understood that and repeated to myself that I was nothing to him, to his fucked up guy. Then, I don’t know what happened, I had told him about myself a little and he gave me this look of…almost approval. It was like he took my hand and led me into some wonder fuckin land of acceptance with one simple glance. After that he started calling daily, and wanting to set up plans a lot. We’d watch the sunrise together and he’d help me escape from all the troubles of a break up and he knew damn well I wasn’t all the way through with Trevor. A secret love I suppose? I mean he still talked about other girls he had his eye on and I talked about Trevor all the time…yet we cuddled and we both longed for each other. But something told me to keep up that wall of I’m nothing to him. Trust issues? Maybe. Paranoia? Possibly. Stupidity? Fosho. But happiness I’ve longed for through a man? Oh yeah…more then anyone I’ve dated…dated? Seen? Met? Talked to? Spilled my heart out to? Dreamt of? I don’t give a shit. He’d play guitar to me using gentle fingers to strum the string to the beat of his own songs and other songs that I loved more then anything while I slept and I’d dream of his fingers brushing my skin instead of the strings on his guitar. Each note soothed the wounds Trevor had left on my heart, each word he spoke would reconstruct the pieces of my soul, and each laugh would fuel the fire to my happiness. Course the bullshit had to end eventually. I waited too long to tell him I wanted him, to let that wall of trust issues crumble so I could run to his arms. Yep, it was too late. So he kind of would talk to me on the phone or IM but usually that lasted 10 minutes tops and he was gone. I mean gone like he just left. Ditched me or made up some excuse. I felt like I was the last to know about his whole moving on and shit. I mean I had let myself fall for him; I let myself say the words “I do mean something to him.”. But now I lie in bed remembering all the words he would say to me, and I hope that maybe he’s thinking about the memories we shared. And all I have to prove that we were anything is a crumbled piece of notebook paper with the quotes I remembered from him. All the bullshit he let slide off his tongue through the pierced lips I wish I had kissed. Whatever. I just pray to god his heart doesn’t get broken by the new girl he’s after. That’s right Brooke, hide behind that plastic smile and the lie that you’re happy as long as he is. I hate Mondays; It’s all Trevor’s fault. I was never anything to Dan, I was nothing, a piece of shit, I never had a chance with him…

November 3, 2009

Wednesday, stupid Trevor's fault. I went to school, learned shit, thought about shit, and would you believe it? Got myself shoved in the social worker's office. I have to say, this social worker was very hot. I'm not lesbian...well I don’t think...but I find it perfectly fine for me to say she's hot. I don’t know about you and your opinion on 'female between female comments' but calling another chick sexy or hot and still being strait is a-ok in my book. Anyway, she had these blue eyes that kind of twitched and she always turned her head to the side like a lost dog when she would ask a question. She kept asking about home problems and school problems. And you know how people try and avoid telling the 'Man' their problems? Others take the angry way out and say 'Fuck The Man.' I say, can’t beat em (and the principle knows I cant beat her.) join them. I told her what she asked, but I didn’t explain.

'What's your home life like?' She said turning her head so her blond hair fell over her shoulders and her little blue eyes twitched. She had a plain white button up shirt with boobs that were as big as Mary's freaking cat. Mary's cat is larger then a small dog so her boobs were MASSIVE. And her waist was as tiny as the world's common sense. She was pretty curvy.

'Well my father booked when I was born and my mother is kind of confused...I mean she's just...old? I suppose...and my mother's side of the family is the only family i have but last time I visited my aunt she called me the devil's child because I listened to a song called 'God Hates Us All'. And she told everyone else lies to make me look worse so that I wouldn’t 'taint' the rest of the family with my evil. They hate me.' I said casually like discussing what I planned to do after school.

'Oh well, I would have never expected that from you Brooke.' She said writing on her note pad so fast it looked like she had tourette's syndrome. While she wrote I looked around. The walls were pretty white, there were some pictures and signs that had bullshit like 'Shoot for the stars, even if you suck ass, you’ll land among the other bitches who couldn’t do shit either.' I felt like stupid now for being in here. 'I really didn’t expect it...' she mused as her pen began to come to a stop.

'I'm sure.' I said with a nip of attitude then glancing down at my full black and dark red dress with black boots covered in chains.

'How's school for you?' She said turning her head to the side and widening those big ol blue eyes.

'Pretty lame Mrs...' I cut off, I didn’t know her name...

'Sitch.' She said smiling with the whitest teeth I’ve ever seen. I swear you could blind someone with those things I mean they were BRIGHT. 'Oh and don’t give me and bull about Mrs. Bitch, I've heard that 100 times and it's not funny anymore.' Her grin only widened and I was glad I hadn’t tried to rebel against her because it was obvious I would have to fight against her blinding teeth and overly hyper personality to beat her. Well Mrs. Twitch Bitch went on with her twitching and questioning. 'Why is it lame?'

'Because you have to do stuff. I want to go home and party.' I said blankly and her hand skipped over the paper in a sort of shitty dance. She nodded looking over her notes. 'Ok. What do you do at these parties?'

'Drugs and sex'


November 5, 2009

Ha ha...that social worker's blue eyes were all big. Mrs. Twitch Bitch then went on to give me a lecture and asked if I'd done any kind of crimes. I told her I keyed a couple of cars and stole a few things from a store like tampons, condoms, and pregnancy tests and I got caught a few times. She rubbed my shoulder like I was a dog and told me I have to stop or they’ll throw me in Juvenile Detention soon. Shit man, I cant go there. I have to say I may have freaked a little but once I got home and relaxed I knew everything was ok. Though things got way off topic in there, I was really waiting for her to ask about Trevor or Dan...to ask about that word...that word....forever. To see what she had to say about it. Too late now I guess...I kind of want to call Trevor. No I don’t have time I have to do stuff for GSA...I miss Dan...I miss Trevor...does it make me a whore for missing them both at the same time? I got stuff to do. Bye

November 6, 2009

I got drunk,
I got drunk for Dan and Trevor.
I got drunk for the word ‘Forever’
I ran away from home,
I got in a fight with my mom,
My friend stole a car,
He crashed the car,
I'm waiting next to him,
Writing in my journal,
Writing to you,
I want to write for the last time to you,
I fuckin hate my mom,
I stole some stuff,
I got caught,
They chased my friend's car,
I was in it,
Here comes the police,
Gota to go,
Plus I don’t feel like writing anymore.

November 21, 2009

Shit man, I'm in Juvenile Detention; Mrs. Twitch Bitch gave me bad luck. I've been here for two weeks and the only reason I have a pencil and access to you is for good behavior and flirting with the guards. I just need to talk to you...Uh where to start. Well we have to wear these bright orange outfits, yes just like the movies, that say the name of the jail and the shit we did. Mine says theft and some other word I cant make out that I'm assuming is some word for running away. We can’t wear shoes, we wear slippers and uhh the food here sucks ass. We get a cookie every Friday but they're hard as hell. Lucky for me my leader person who watches us and teaches us school and shit is nice and lets me run back to the kitchen to microwave it. Of course the chicks and dudes are separated (damn), and there are sections: North, East, South, West. I'm in the South Side. It's boring as hell and everything smells bad. There's always a puddle of piss in the bathroom. We gamble over apple juice with playing cards a guard sneaks in for us and shit goes down if the black man don’t get his apple juice! My whole life just took a dramatic turn, this whole journal just took a dramatic turn, but my mind still sits perched on Dan's guitar and Trevor’s breath trickling down my neck. Got to go, the guard is demanding for his pencil back. I'll write when I can.