C.4:00 pm Ct

I'm sitting in the library right now taking advantage of the high speed interent connection. So let's catch up. In the last few days i've been in a wreck and learned that i'm crazy. So that's all.

...but not haha

Friday we went out saling yearbook-ads, we weren't saleing a damn thing, but we were having fun.The last ass-hole said no before we were even half way in the door, but there was the sign for the Asian Express just across the street, so why not. (I know I don't have a bumper on my ass but I know they say us running across the highway like lost deer). We were gonna try to sale this one last ad before heading back to the school. It was my turn to sale an ad so I go up to the door - what's with the dirty sandles outside? Oh, I get it they're trying to be attentic- not an oz of common sense- I start twisting the door knob, but it's locked, and looking through the door window - Nice big screen, this place looks homey- common sense should've kicked in by now - suddenly, I'm eye to eye with this old Asian guy, he looked at me as if I was a killer. He opens the door very slowly and I throw him my sales pitch - "Hi, sir. We're from the Crockett High School yearbook staff...blah...blah...blah... [insert fake smile here]" - nothing- he tells this girl to talk to us and walks off - maybe to serve the customers, but why is he in his pajamas - damn I'm dumb. The girl nods like she understands what I'm talking about, but she has this expression like she doesn't. She tells us her mother is away and that we were not at a resturant but a house. My mouth dropped. When she closed the door in our faces, we just busted out laughing. Monday we decided we're just gonna ride around, fuck those damn ads.

He was at the school today. I saw him in the parking lot when Alicia dropped me off (I had to serve after school detention for not tucking in my damn shirt), we had been out saling ads for the yearbook (something I'll rant about later). He looked even more beautiful than I remembered, the way that angel white shirt looked on his caramel skin got me right in the heart, like it always does, and I swear I saw his blue-green eyes from a yard away. I walked to the front of the school and lost myself in a crowd just to look at him and remember the way he smiles and walks with a long slow stride (It's been so damn long). Every time I looked at him, Felicia W., who was standing next to him, would be looking back at me. You should've seen how easy it was for her to go up and hug him, lucky heffa. I wonder what he's doing here though. He's supposed to be in Arizona starting art school by now. Did he decide not to go? Is he going to the army to get killed? Natalie, can you tell me?

I want him so damn bad. I saw him yesterday zooming by in his car and I went into a sorta dream state and almost fell on my face trying to catch a glimpse of him. I'm so afraid to even write your name because then everyone would know. People always have a way of finding out things. If you only knew what you do to me, Rhzxx.

The Cutter

She holds out her wrist for me to see healed over scares that now rise pink from her tan skin. She smiles proudly. "I'm a cutter" she announces to me, as if telling me she just won gold at the Olympics. What does she want me to say? "O, I'm so happy for you." NO. I want to tell her she's a dumb ass - Cutting is so late 90's. Her wounds tell me that she wants attention, because if she was serious about it, her wounds wouldn't be so shallow and short. I want to smack her across her face. Stupid. I warn her that she could accidently slit her wrist. " No I can't" she with a smile of accomplishment she draws back her arm. Stupid.

beginning of the end

Aaliyah died on August 25 of 2001. It's kinda silly that I see the death of a music artist that I never met as the beginning of a change in the world. It's just that Aaliyah was like my big sista. She was there since my childhood and I took her death almost the same way I would take losing a family memeber and how I took the terriorist attacks a couple weeks later.

Posted by Monique

How could I forget what today was? The relization of the events that happened here three years ago keeps hitting me in the head with bat, but I keep forgetting. I'm supposed to never forget or the terrorist win, but I forgot and they still haven't won because today I lived my life. I was happy ( I smiled) and I as remember I hold back tears.
Three years ago I thought the world was ending and it did. The world of safety I as an American had grown to expect dissappeared quicker than a wisp of smoke from my cousins cigarettes. Standing at my locker with my mouth gapping open, I starred at the people who were telling me these horrible things. The conversation went like this:

Diego: "Monique don't you know they're dropping bombs on the Pentagon"

Monique: " No they're not. You're lying. Shut UP! "

Somegurl: " Yea, they are, but it's not bumbs but planes they are using "

Monique: (Silence)

Not much happening here, but in my head things were crazy. For a second I almost, regressed back into childhood. The need to throw my hands over my ears and scream and cry to block the world out was tempting but fleating. Later, I would go into the library and watch footage on the news, then I would watch a tape of the hold day of events from the very beginning. { My IPC teacher's wife had set the VCR to tape the Soaps} Two minutes left to 9/12: The Day After.

But what I tell you guys next will really make you think that I am crazy. I actually wanted to see more footage of 9/11. What I saw on television was not enough, I needed to see the footage that is now hidden from public view. Why? So I could heal. Really seeing and hearing would help me comprehend, that's just the way I am. As I type this 9/11 has passed, but I still feel what I felt as a little freshman watching the planes hit and the buildings collapse repeatedlly. I can feel the air ball into a fist in my throat as I looked up my friend and told her that I loved her and that she was my best friend in the whole newly destroyed world.

This is a picture from my large collection of music artist photos. Here we have Aaliyah, Twista, and Brandy in a photo I call - When We Were Young and New. Good night y'all, sweet dreams. Monique
Monique

Me and my cousin Traviance walked to Dairy Queen today. We sat in the place for a few minutes and watched the rain fall like crazy and talked. On our way home we got soaked to the bone, we had to post up under the porch of this run down sack and finally just decided to walk on to my house because the rain wasn't going to stop anytime soon. My god damn black-folks hair napped up so quick, it'll take me all night to get it right again.
Speaking of all night, I'm supposed to be writing a paper right now, Why I Want to Become a Teacher. I don't want to be a teacher, but if I want to go on a free trip to Sam Houston University, all I have to do is pump out two pages typed before seventy period tomorrow and I'm set. But then again, I also have to rewrite a story that I wrote about my grandmother so that it will be "more powerful" as Mrs. Pasho puts it. I don't mind doing it, I'm glad she even thought that it had any ounce of power in it in the first place. I guess I should start, but I don't want to. I AM A BORN PROCRASTINATOR.
After I tell you guys about my dream from the other night I'll go do my work. Okay, I was in the living when this tall chocolate brother appears out of nowhere. Somehow, in a split second, I get him naked and push him back onto the love seat. I was standing over him, then I bent over and wraped my hands around his tool,I was getting ready to ride the black stallion. All of the sudden I get the feeling my grandmother was coming and I start panicking. I was screaming trying to tell him, now Taye Diggs, to get up but he won't move. My hand wouldn't move, either, it was like it was glued to his dick and right then while I was trying to pull my hand off his penis, my grandmother walked in and the last thing I remember was a cold tingle of fear going up my back and a silent scream trying to escape my mouth.
Monique

If only I could find this tree and spend the rest of my life thinking under it. I would be complete. You can find this tree at Yu's blog, a very moving and beautiful blog.
Monique

This is very unlady like, but this morning when I woke up I let out the loudest fart (lol) that you ever could imagine. What's so bad about it is that I thought that no was around and that it would a silent killer, Wrong! It came out before I could check my surroundings, a long never ending trumpet sound that shock me, the kind of fart that stops people dead in their tracks when they hear it, when I looked up my uncle was looking straight at me with a mortified look on his face. (lol) I could have die then, but I didnt' care, I just started giggling my ugly laugh and i said, "J-Ray, you better watch out because I got another one sneaking up". I giggled some more and then rolled over and pretended to be asleep until he and Granny left.

The Moral of the story: Don't eat chicken and dumplins before bed ^_^.
If reading this affends you, I'm very sorry that I don't care.

Everyone, I would like to introduce y'all to my BabyDaddy, Usher Raymond. Sorry ladies he's a one woman man.
Monique

This is the only thing that matters in the world. My name. It marks you for life as being a certain way. In the last couple of months I have been seriously thinking of having everyone call me Monica, but I think I'll keep Monique.

You know how it goes. We all wish we had a different name, but when I started calling myself Monica, I relized it just didn't fit.
So here's to me -- MONIQUE.
Monique

I sleep in the living room of my house. The couch is old fashion with worn out cusions and a slab a wood under that. At night, when I toss and turn, the cusions slip off and my legs rub against the wood. Light pours in from the street light that destroys my beautiful darkness, then the train shatters my solitude. Fuck this. Why should you know where I sleep? If you know this then you will understand why I will act some ways sometimes. Yes, I feel the world owes me something, but doesn't everybody. I am self-centered, but I care about everyone. I am very hateful, but I love hard. I am fake, but at least I admit it. I am Monique and I live in Texas.