Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Fantasies.

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Monday, December 12, 2005

Let Me Tell You The Story Of Jienix and Jex...

Out of the silent, swirling, mist comes a voice. In a childish, singsong voice, it begins to recite:

...Let me tell you the story of Jienix and Jex

It has drama and laughter and sorrow and sex
Let us begin with the story of Jienix
A person as lovely and strong as the phoenix
Jienix was laughter, Jienix was light
Her voice was a song and her laughter was bright.
She was well loved and popular and pure
Her present was great, her future assured.
Yet like young women, she had a secret
And she needed only her sister to keep it.
They were as close as close could be
Jienix was the bark, Jex was the tree.

Jex was everything Jienix was not
Rude and uncouth (and taunted a lot).
She was rebellious and malicious and mean
In contempt for authority, she was the Queen
Jex was sorrow, Jex was sass
If you didn't like it, you could kiss her ass
Worst of it all, she could still grin
Not even caring she didn’t fit in
Yet she was the truth behind the facade
That Jex had created and Jienix displayed
Alone they were nothing, together were one
Listen more closely, it’s only begun.

One day Jex was sick, Jienix at school
When a girl made a comment that Jex was a fool
Jienix moved quickly, and when the smoke cleared
That girl had learned why the sisters were feared.
She may have been sweet, she may have been fun
But insults, Jienix tolerated not a single one
And on other occasions, though rarely I admit
She yelled at her friends, and just wouldn’t quit
These were the times her mind would be mixed
Though a glance at her sister and all would be fixed.
Jex would only laugh, and flick her cigarette
She knew that for Jienix, they'd forgive and forget.

The opinion on Jex was near-universal
She was a bad egg, her ideas distasteful
Yet nobody's perfect, not even when they're bad
Once there was someone she didn't make mad
They could even be called friends, some would say
Until one fateful evening with a roll in the hay
Marc was intoxicated, Jex was sober
A good clean break, and it would be over
The experience was better than reported by some
It was pleasure and pain combined into one
She knew that his guilt would cause him to flee
Their relationship damaged irreparably
Jienix had the lecture already prepared
Jex simply retorted "He should never have cared!"

Sometimes they wished they could be less extreme
Jex to be nice, Jienix be mean
But the images they’d created had grown out of hand
And if they got rid of them they’d lose the plan
Because while Jienix was out charming the crowds
Jex would be unnoticed while sneaking around
Trying to find the answer they’d been looking for, for years
Try to sever their roots and erase all the tears
Together the ruse was played out again and again
While together they got closer and closer to the end
For eventually the town would figure it out
What Jienix and Jex were really about...



Monday, December 05, 2005

Those Damned Tears

MistWeaver: Who's your favorite pothead?
Voice: Tsk, tsk. Been bad, have we?
Weaver: No, actually. Just sad. Of course, when I cry I have the handy talent of making my eyes go completely bloodshot. Not even bloodshot. Pink. Fully and completely. And the rest of my face looks like crap, too. I'm not one of those attractive cryers who look all dramatic and beautiful. I just look like a drowned duck.
Voice: While I find all of this absolutely fascinating, it does bring to mind a more pressing question. Why have you been crying?
Weaver: And that, fair lady (or man, or whatever you are), is the heart of the matter. Crying. I've been doing way too much of it over the past few days. And try as I might, I can't stop.
Voice: You still haven't answered the question. Why have you been crying?
Weaver: A variety of reasons. The most pressing being that I've been so tired, every little thing makes me cry. Even when I don't want to. On Saturday, it was the fight I got into with Mama and Brian. On Sunday, it was the stupid email Mama sent me regarding the fight I got into with her and Brian. Today, it was Deb in the cafeteria lecturing us on how we need to be a team and how we don't pull our weight, and how... Ugh. Just... everything. And the entire time, I was thinking about how I really wanted to quit and that I'd been considering it for a while, but that I couldn't because throughout it all Deb made it clear that they needed me.
Voice: Why did you fight with Thelia and Brian?
Weaver: The same as always. About how we need to be a team, and how I don't pull my weight... Not to mention how I force them to drop everything and drive me everywhere (namely work), and how I work too much and it's costing Mama money and ... oh look. There I go again, almost. No respite from the stupid tears, not even in the middle of the school library. I guess it's a good thing that I didn't go to math.
Voice: Is that where you're supposed to be right now? Math?
Weaver: Yup. I've been stopping myself all month from skipping, telling myself that I need math, that missing it is a bad idea. I gave up today. Screw Math. Screw stupid pipsqueak Carder and his stupid discrimination. The best thing to do is study it myself and show up for test days. I almost wish that I would get caught skipping, for once. I can identify with certain characters from certain books... That reckless feeling where you want to get caught so you can yell to the world how you really feel.
Voice: And this is your way of yelling at the world. All those who care to read, step right up! Take a computer and boot 'er up.
Weaver: When you put it that way... I guess this is my way of yelling at the world. Teen Angst R Us. Although I feel closer to 70 than to a teen, at the moment.
Weaver: Do you know who happened to come in while I was trying to clean myself up in the bathroom before coming here?
Voice: If I knew, you wouldn't be asking.
Weaver: It was KD. Yes, KD. The one that I never particularly liked, and thought to be shallow and inconsiderate. I've never hidden my opinion of her, either. But when she walked in, inconspicuous cryer that I am, she took one look and asked me what was wrong. Gave me a hug, too.
Voice: Has your opinion changed of her?
Weaver: To be honest, not really. She's still pretty shallow and mean. But at the same time, even the shallowest person has a heart. I don't know where I'm going with this.
Voice: Maybe towards the idea that she's a tolerable person?
Weaver: Yeah, I guess. And I'm probably going to go watch her Drama class second period since I think that I've changed my mind about going to math at all. And I should probably reread my reply to my mother's email. I was so tired, and crying so hard, that I have barely any recollection of what I wrote. I have a vague memory of thinking it was really bitter-sounding. Am I right? I can't remember. Maybe I am just a selfish bitch. Bleah.

Oh, and a note: I'm still trying to figure out whether I miss Ryan. I haven't really talked to him in like two weeks. More if you count talking to him sober. I don't go to Youth anymore. I think our last meaningful conversation was when I told him that. I'm trying to figure out whether to invite him to the Dance next week. We had agreed that if we had one with guests, he'd come and we'd have a blast. Then again, I'm not even sure I can go. But it's formal! And I've wanted to go to a formal dance forever...

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