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volleyball
Sunday 11112001 : 2.45 pM
Jessica says: hey you
kala says: hiiii
kala says: what colour is my font?
Jessica says: red
kala says: coolness. pumpkins...aaahh... ive listened to mellon collie again yesterday and im trapped in a pumpkins dream. so goood
Jessica says: Im gonna get the limited edition of the greatest hits and Im thinking about getting that black shirt
kala says: ayaaaaaaaa!
kala says: hey, i went shopping and got myself red shoes
Jessica says: its black and has the dates of the pumpkins on it as well 1988 - 2000 awwwwwwwwwwwww
Jessica says: red shoes? uha
kala says: every girl should have red shoes
Jessica says: why that????
kala says: because they were cute the shoes
kala says: im cute LOL
Jessica says: lol
kala says: kidding! ;-P
kala says: would you like to go on holidays with me? we'll plan a trip to Afghanistan
Jessica says: lol
kala says: In search for bin laden's beard
Jessica says: well this is not funny
kala says: why not?hee
Jessica says: lol
Jessica says: but we can go on holidays later
kala says: we'll wear our bathing suits
Jessica says: do u plan to come to europe (germany) one fine day and see meeeeee?
Jessica says: in afghanistan, our bathing suits, yes we will be stoned kala lol
kala says: that will be the highlight of the vacation
kala says: kidding LOL
Jessica says: i just read another report about it a few minutes ago, its so cruel
kala says: what's the report about?
Jessica says: women in afghanistan
kala says: i know, ive seen that
Jessica says: its terrible
kala says: they can't wear make-up, no laughing, no highheels..
Jessica says: no SKIN
Jessica says: no freedom
kala says: no sport except volleyball
Jessica says: lol
kala says: it's true! no sport is allowed except volleyball
Jessica says: really??? ah you are kidding, why volleyball?
kala says: maybe the taliban always wins
Jessica says: LOOOOOOOOOOOL
Jessica says: oops
kala says: did you read about the men?
Jessica says: no
kala says: but this is amazing news about the men...
kala says: they have to have long beards...
Jessica says: which one tell me
Jessica says: ? no
kala says: if not, they will be jailed until their beards grow!!!
Jessica says: LOL
kala says: isnt' that... preposterous?!
Jessica says: lol
kala says: what if they don't have beards?
Jessica says: hehheehe shitt eh?
Jessica says: very much so.
Jessica says: ohhhhhhaaaaaaaaaa
Jessica says: well
kala says: plus, they can't laugh in public
Jessica says: lol cruel
souterrain
Saturday, november102001 : 12.20 PM
Oh ! you pretty things
the world's seams
Wednesday, nov072001 : 12:43 a.m.
My life, so far, is written on flat surfaces that can absorb ink or lead. This is what I realised, going through pieces of paper covered with my handwriting, and as usual, not being able to throw anything away. At the back of reciepts. At the back of smudge-inked photographs. Old journals. On book margins. On empty wax-lined paper cups from the dreaded Starbucks (beware of this multinational coffecompany), complete with teethmarks at the rim, bearing the evidence of either restless boredom or caffeinne overdose.
More and more still. we're not different from animals; from snakes in particular: we rub our bellies against the warm earth, we shed our skin wherever we go.
What we leave behind is skin. Outer layers that disguise inner turmoil. Skin. Skin all around; like a dancer shedding her skin on stage, a writer with prose dancing in his eyes, a doctor leaving his fingerprints on his patient's back as he examines, a child dragging a crayon across the walls.
Whoever said stripping was revealing; to me it seems that leaving traces makes you more naked than just wearing skin.
If I died it would be a shame
Tuesday, 11-06-2001 : 2.25 a.m
because i love walking in the air so much
and killing ideals of people so much
because i still don't know if I'm alive
or if im just a concept of time
or if i focused too much on the fucked-up state of life
maybe if i died now it would be a shame
because there's still much to deal with
more idiots to see when i cross the street
more liquor to consume, more smoke to inhale
there's always a little bird to watch dying
there's always a tree to laugh at while it's falling
much too much to focus on
much too much to laugh about
much taste in mouth that is alternately sweet
alternately bitter, like the wind in my hand
much too much time to waste
much too much money to spend
more jewelry to swallow, more rings to lose
still some engagements to break
i wouldn't want to die now
because somewhere im still a picturesque gamine
in a picturesque landscape with a bullet between my teeth
with a bullet inside my brain
with a "concept" of the heart
with so many tricks to perfect
and so many spirits left to crush
too hopeless to help, too cruel to bother
heart in a hearst! much too much
of everything, of nothing
of something, of anything or anyhow's
much too much
televisions to smash and faces to slap
houses to burn, along with some photos
much too much to destroy, much
too much space, too many tormentors
more gaps between teeth to fill
still a lot of suicides to get by
i still want to have much too much
there's always still time to spend on nothing
still some space to stare into
still a river to watch dry
still a foot to spit on
still an ocean to transfer with a spoon
if i died now it would be a shame
there's still an ocean
there's still a spoon
still a need for transfer
of an ocean to the moon
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