This happens a lot. But I finally took the time to type it

Those fabulous twenty-somethings that moved to the city to make it big

dancing down dark alleyways,

covered in glitter and grime and godknowswhatelse.

They collect antiques and burn soy candles that

drip

drip

drip

on to stainless steel tables next to their laptops.

Always choosing the old to make it new,

keeping it classic to keep it cool.

PhotographyModelingActingWritingDesignMusicArtPublishing

The press will say

So much joie de vivre, so much energy and passion,

The headlines will read

NEXTBIGTHING: This year's ingenues and parvenues

You find them all over,

all always alive,

all always alight

burning up the city with

the parties, the noise, the music, the smeared lipstick, and sterling pound coins.

East, West, South

London will follow them wherever they go.

I love my job

they will tell and talk and turn 'round and 'round

till

time

forgets

and those who follow

will remember why they came to London.

I read poetry and do not write it. I am good at nothing- little more.

Ignorance is love and I need that shit

It's really at night when I feel alive. So spacey.

I can feel my thoughts instead of simply having them pass to and fro between my ears.

And now I realize how detached I am from everyone, how removed...watching myself.

When you're addicted to sleeping pills, you realize how weak you really are inside.

It was like that day in 8th grade when I failed my first test on purpose.

All my life they told me I was going to be SOMETHING, do SOMETHING...something AMAZING. I had so much POTENTIAL.

That one little F made me realize how stupid everyone was.

I wasn't anything special and nobody else was either. We just had different ways of whoring ourselves out to the right people until we ended up succesful in one way or another.

I've been taking these little fuckers for almost four years now. Powder blue Lunestas, snow white Ambiens, the lovely little twinkly Xanaxes- no thinking was involved, just sleep.

Have you ever been scared to sleep in your own $2,000 bed?

How when your parents get mad at you, you pretend to be asleep so you don't get in trouble?

Or when you get in trouble for cutting yourself to deal with your problems, so you try to just sleep through it all but can't?

Then I found a solution.

I'm 19 and it's 6AM. I'm drained, physically exhausted- but if I tried to sleep right now I would hyperventilate, cry, and eventually faint and wake up every few hours until my body can't take it anymore.

I have had seizures, spasms in my face muscles, anxiety attacks, nausea, and occasional eye twitches. I don't regret any of it of course, I like blackout sleep. My right eye is twitching right now and I can feel a muscle spasm coming on.

But I feel weak. I have let myself become dependent on something.

I don't want to be dependent on anything more than I have to.

Not on medication, not on drugs, not on my friends, not on a boy, not on anyone.

I'm explaining this on the phone to one of my closest friends who is 17 and idolizes me. She's disgusted (masked with worry, of course), I can hear it in her voice. I don't blame her and I don't really care.

I'm not sad or unhappy. My point is that I don't like being weak. They filled me up with bravado when I was younger- I took care of that. I know I'm not going to get anywhere in life- I'm not stupid. I'm fulfilling my potential best I can.

But now I have this problem (now that I have FINALLY come to terms with it) and I need to get rid of it.

The zine will be starting as soon as school starts.

EMERALD CITY :3

My baby, my breath, all my glittery tears and salty saturated blood will be put into that.

Besides grades and work.

I'm not feeling my major anymore. Art History and Writing or English would be better for me I think.

But it's something I promised myself I would do, and I need to be in control of that.

I'm feeling a little dizzy now. I almost want to wait for Tom to get online.

I hope one day I can meet a boy like him.

Someone who genuinely appreciates all the little things in life, all the beauty.

These boys are little children. They need someone to complete them and feel needed. They need someone else in order to validate their own existence.

Constantly seeking for someone to "love them". Honestly, GET A LIFE. Do something. You'll have something to show for. Develop tastes, fulfill (or at least attempt to fulfill) your potential, go make something of yourself.

YOU are the most important thing YOU have. Not someone else.

It's great if you find someone, many people don't. They even get married and still don't find their true love.

I love everyone. I'm needed by many. I'm blessed with more friends than I can handle and family from three continents.

I have a great sense of self.

I am content but always reaching for more. As it should be.

You know who was cool though? F. Scott Fitzgerald's wife.

Bitch died in a goddamn hospital fire. She died still creating things. Works of art.

I mean how fucking amazing can you get?

I could kick it with Lily Allen

AS FAR AS MY WRITING STYLE GOES,

I'LL LET MY BRO E.E. CUMMINGS SUM IT UP FOR YOU WITH SOME UNRHYMED VERSE:

if feeling is first,

then who pays any attention,

to the syntax of things

...

for life's not a paragraph.

Oh there are so many things coming that no one will see but that I will remember forever.

Here's to you Emerald City, may you live long and prosper.

If for only a year, I will love you as if you had been born in 1973.

Now all I need to do is make a name for myself.

And by that I mean I need to come up with a name for myself.

One not heard in the common cabaret.

something that melts in your mouth and not in your hand

that slides off your tongue but can't be worn out

with some glitter in it that makes you inhale when you think of it

"A well dressed woman is always in love- with herself"

I kept answering questions with "I used to" and "I was into that"

I fell into the little freshman trap that I promised myself I would not fall into.

You know the one where you meet a whole bunch of new friends and get so busy getting acquainted with everyone that you forget about yourself?

As much as I enjoy bro-ing around....

My sister wrote a poem for me when she was 4.

I hung it up in my room and read it everyday.

The last line is

'I just love myself'.