Life.Of.Sin

Today I wore:

Carbon jeans…really comfy and worn and then Amanda and Mary signed the ass in red magic marker and drew on them with a blue pen.

A white belt…cloth, pretty self explanatory.  Lifted it from my sister.

Boy short undies and they’re pink…not that you really needed to know as the guy right next to me pointed out.

Black spaghetti strapped tank with rainbow straps … no bra… Yay!  Lifted the top from my mother last summer and she’s never getting it back, which is fine because she doesn’t want it back.

My tie.  It is my trademark.  It has five buttons on it: Dissent is Not a Crime; My Chemical Romance; Rainbows Make Me Happy; Green Day; and Rock the Arts.  It’s brown with silver and tan stripes on it.

I also wore the hat I stole from my sister backwards … Happy Bunny: It’s all about me.  deal with it.

Denim shoes I’ve had since seventh grade and haven’t worn since eighth grade.  I wrote Billie Joe on the end of one shoe and Green Day on the other.  I used pink ribbons as shoelaces because I didn’t have regular shoe laces.

I also wore another button on my jeans that says “This Is What a Feminist Looks Like”.

I’m wearing my wrist bands: “I Have a Heart On” and “Made in the 80’s”.  A black sex bracelelt and a rainbow bracelet with wooden beads and people always ask if it’s made of candy.

Anarchy symbol drawn on my hand with black permanent marker and red magic marker.

Black permanent marker on my nails covered with clear nail polish.  Red lipstick, purple eyeshadow, glasses (those bigger framed ones that Fiona Apple wears), six earrings, meaning four are empty.

Luvverzz,
Mrs. Billie Joe, aka Dru, aka the girl who thinks you give a flying fuck about her wardrobe

Warning: I own it.  Don’t steal it.  Fuck you if you do.

Fucked Up

And when we sit
And when we wait
And when we smoke
And contemplate

And when we cry
And when we fly
And when we smoke pot
And get high

And when you scream
And when I dream
And when we seem
It’s all just fucked up.

Luvverzz,
Mrs. Billie Joe, aka Dru

Breathe (2 a.m.) by Anna Nalick

2 AM and I’m still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, its no longer
inside of me, threatening the life they belong to
And i feel like I’m naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you’ll use them, however you want to

It’s so fucking beautiful, it describes, it creates . . . it’s life, it’s death, it’s love . . . it’s fucking poetry.

Bleed Like Me by Garbage

Avalanche is sullen and too thin
She starves herself to rid herself of sin
And the kick is so divine when she sees bones beneath her skin
And she says:
Hey baby can you bleed like me?
C’mon baby can you bleed like me?

Chris is all dressed up and acting coy
Painted like a brand new Christmas toy
He’s trying to figure out if he’s a girl or he’s a boy
He says:
Hey baby can you bleed like me?
C’mon baby can you bleed like me?

Doodle takes dad’s scissors to her skin
And when she does relief comes setting in
While she hides the scars she’s making underneath her pretty clothes
She sings:
Hey baby can you bleed like me?
C’mon baby can you bleed like me?

Therapy is Speedie’s brand new drug
Dancing with the devil’s past has never been too fun
It’s better off than trying to take a bullet from a gun
And she cries:
Hey baby can you bleed like me?
C’mon baby can you bleed like me?

JT gets all fucked up in some karaoke bar
After two drinks he’s a loser after three drinks he’s a star
Getting all nostalgic he sings “I Will Survive”
Hey baby can you bleed like me?
C’mon baby can you bleed like me?
Hey baby can you bleed like me?
C’mon baby can you bleed like me?

You should see my scars
You should see my scars
You should see my scars
You should see my scars
Try to comprehend that which you’ll never comprehend
Try to comprehend that which you’ll never comprehend
Just try to comprehend that which you’ll never comprehend
Try to comprehend that which you’ll never comprehend
You should see my scars
You should see my scars

And here it is, your final stanza and your final chord and it’s all just so fucking real.  Comprehending what you’ll never comprehend.  Even if you find another cutter, another ana, another alcoholic, another freak, it’s still never the same.  You’re you and they can’t always relate one hundred percent and sometimes it’s shitty and sometimes it’s great, because who really wants to be the same anyway?

And that’s it for now.  That took a lot out of me.  At least lyrically.  Maybe I’ll type some more.

Luvverzz,
Mrs. Billie Joe, aka Dru

I am going to get a new shrink.  So cliche, huh?  The dark girl, the poet, the girl who talks about sex all the time and thinks cocaine is romantic . . . she has to go see a shrink.

Thank God it’s not for cutting this time, eh?  Well, I have intimacy issues, fear of commitment, and a fear of guys in more than a plutonic way.  That’s why I fall for gay guys, rock gods, and anyone else that is unattainable, like my old art teacher. 

And according to my mother, who could be a fucking shrink I swear, it’s because of her and my dad and their whole divorce situation.  Which makes sense because I never want to get married and a lot of it is because of divorce and if you have kids you’re a part of that person’s life forever and I just hate dependence.

I want my kids without some other guy.  A sperm donor, not a father.

But anyway . . . I get to go see a shrink.  And unfortunately they can’t just give you a pill to cure my weird fucked up fears.

So, I’m going to post some lyrics again.  Makes me feel better.

Luvverzz,
Mrs. Billie Joe, aka Dru

I’m stuck on music right now, so I’m going to rattle off some of my favorite song lyrics and maybe enlighten you as to why I like them and maybe not.

“I’ll be your number one with a bullet/Loaded gun complex/Cock it and pull it.”  -Fall Out Boy
I just love the whole “loaded gun complex” thing.  Makes it sound like a disseases.  Diseases are so fucking interesting.

“Jesus on the radio took a photograph of me.”  -Guster
Because it’s Jesus on fucking radio and he took a photograph.  I mean, it’s just so . . . out there.

“Girl with crimson nails/Jesus round her neck.”  -U2
It’s so . . . anyone can have religion, you know?  Or religion can be corrupted.  You can look at it either way.  I’m a firm believer that if there is a god, which I know there is I just don’t know what He/She is or their name or anything, why the fuck would they care what you look like and how you dress?  I mean, it’s your soul their after right?  It’s not like you dress your soul up with tattoos and miniskirts.  It’s just your outside.  And that’s going to rot, so who gives a shit?

“Sooner or later, you’re gonna hate it/Go ahead and throw our life away.”  -Breaking Benjamin

“Summer has come and passed/The innocent can never last/Wake me up when September ends.” -Green Day
Innocence and I love how it’s associated with a season.  It’s just so . . . human.  Instead of being some intangible thing that you can never touch and just remember with a bit of you, they gave it life, meaning, an analogy, a metaphor, something you fucking understand.  Because who doesn’t remember that first day of summer vacation from when they were a kid?  You were just a fucking innocent.

Have to drive someone up to the school.  Add more of this later.

Luvverzz,
Mrs. Billie Joe, aka Dru

Well, it’s my fucking blog and I want to make a song list.  So, these are currently the songs that I’m in love with, including some old favorites.  And yes, they’re all rock.  Except maybe a couple of embarassing ones, but I haven’t decided if I’m going to put those in yet.

“American Idiot” by Green Day
“A Decade Under the Influence” by Taking Back Sunday
“Sugar We’re Going Down” by Fall Out Boy
“Sooner or Later” by Breaking Benjamin
“Holiday” by Green Day
“Your Own Disaster” by Taking Back Sunday
“Bleed Like Me” by Garbage
“Hollaback Girl” by Gwen Stefani
“Wake Me Up When September Ends” by Green Day
“You’re So Last Summer” by Taking Back Sunday
“Gay Messiah” by Rufus Wainwright
“Flavor of the Week” by American Hi-Fi
“What’s My Age Again?” by Blink 182
“Perfect” by Simple Plan
“Fat Lip” by Sum 41
“Boulevard of Broken Dreams” by Green Day
“Dead Boy’s Poem” by Nightwish
“When I Grow Up” by Garbage
“I’m Still Here” by Johnny Reznik
“God of Wine” by Third Eye Blind
“Lifetime” by Better than Ezra
“I Miss You” by Blink 182
“Scotty Doesn’t Know” by ???
“Mr. Brightside” by The Killers (my current favorite song)
“Beverly Hills” by Wheezer
“A Brand New Day” by Straight Out of Jr. High (aka, the Valtrex song)
“Breathe (2 am)” by Anna Nalik
“Come to my Window” by Melissa Ethridge
“Nice Guys Finish Last” by Green Day
“Addicted” by Simple Plan
“Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous” by Good Charlotte
“Helena” by My Chemical Romance
“Miss Hilton” by Pen15
“Motorcycle Drive By” by Green Day
“The Girl All the Bad Guys Want” by Bowling for Soup

That’s it for now, but those are all the songs that I could think of.  Okay, okay, I’ll give you one of the embarassing ones.  I think it’s lyrically genius and performed beautifully, even if it’s country:

“The Song Remembers When” by Trisha Yearwood

Luvverzz,
Mrs. Billie Joe, aka Dru

Today was a sucky day, but then it wasn’t quite so sucky.  Mostly my Journalism class sucked.  I thought my professor was cool, but now I just think she’s a bitch.  So what if I missed three of her classes, it’s not her fucking money paying for them is it?  Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s the state’s money.  But the state ain’t bitching.  I’ve basically resigned myself to failing this semester.  She gets dismissed at the end of the year, so I can take it again then.  I have to have Journalism to get my English degree.

Today, I posted my six songs online.  I also wrote about two more pages on “2 Singers, A Songwriter, & A Cute Little Gay Boy” and finished “Tomorrows”.  Of course, I worked on “2 Singers . . .” in Journalism class while taking fake notes, sticking my tongue out at the professor, and cursing under my breath.

Then, I kind of leaned on the Anarchy symbol I drew on my hand and it ended up on my face.  That was fucking cute.  The girl next to me is like ‘you have a mark on your face from your hand’.  I thought I just a had a little bit of black from the marker on my nails.  Nope, a whole fucking Anarchy symbol on my face.

So I washed it off.  I know, no Anarchy.  But Anarchy isn’t mistakes, it’s chaos.  And although I don’t agree totally with Anarchy, I agree with it a lot more than our present government system.  In the words of Judd Nelson from the Breakfast Club, “He gets up, we’ll all get up, it’ll be anarchy.”  Can you imagine if we all just fucking got up?

Had a PRIDE meeting today.  Love the guy there.  He’s our VP and Secretary and he’s flamboyant.  I love gay guys so much. 

My best friend’s a guy and he’s gay.  He’s my soul and I love him to death.  We can talk about anything and we have.  We’re online, but not in person.  He’s in Cali and I’m stuck in fucking Nebraska.  He tells me things because what am I going to do?  And it brings us closer.

I mean, when you tell a person the hell you’re going through and they cry over you and pray for you even though they don’t believe in God and write you poetry . . . I mean, I’m in.  Me, the girl who’s afraid of commitment, never wants to get married, and has had her longest relationship clocked at three months (when she was 13) is totally and completely committed to a guy she doesn’t really know.

I mean, it doesn’t matter if Chris never talked to me again.  I’m in.  I’ll always wonder, worry, cry, swear, and never get that piece of me back. 

Yeah, so there’s a vent that came out of no where.  Oopsafuckingdaisy.

Oh, and I’m supposed to link back to Vital Signs which is this awesome fucking Billie Joe site, so here’s your link.  I got some fucking awesome pictures and quotes off of there.  http://www.ambsace.net/vital/

Talk to anyone who actually reads this piece of shit blog later.

Luvverzz,
Mrs. Billie Joe, aka Dru