A Cup of Coffee's LiveJournal Entries A Cup of Coffee :: One Day She'll Be Her Own :: :: With or Without You:: :: Feed My Nostalgia ::

Living your hell, living your ghost, living your end... [October 15th 2002|10:57PM] [ mood | accomplished ] [ music | Disease of the Dancing Cats- Bush ] I want everybody to download Letting The Cables Sleep by Bush if you haven't heard it...oh man, I love them. I was ripping out the Bush albums when I got home from work and I was dancing like a fool in the privacy of my room...one day that will work against me...one day. Has anybody else noticed the mass amounts of so called punks fluctuating the high schools? I mean, the whole idea of punk has been slaughtered by the popularity of it all. Preps have converted now to "punk" and they call themselves hardcore and dye their hair unnatural colors just to prove my point that they're nothing more than preps. Teenagers who cry like fucking babies to whiny bitching bands on the radio call themselves emo as if it's a good thing that they cry over spilt milk. I'm not punk nor will I ever be, but it just bothers the hell out of me. I hate how fake people push themselves to be...just be yourself and accept who you are. My neck hurts. 5 Miles from the Sun Wash My Skin of all the Hate

That alien gets a kick out of my pain [October 15th 2002|7:18AM] [ mood | delerious... ] [ music | You'll be a woman...soon ] The last string didn't break on my father's tolerance until this morning when I asked him for a ride to school. It was like waking a beast in slumber. So now I'm just waiting for him to kill me with a hammer...or a bat...or a chainsaw...or...a ninja sword. I jest you not. Beware of the illusive White Nosed Natalie, a creature who only comes out in the midst of getting ready in the morning. But don't threaten her...she'll stupify you with her inept ability to use anti-logic. With the brains of a normal human being and the mobility of a tortoise she will defy you. Wash My Skin of all the Hate

You'll be a woman sooon. [October 14th 2002|10:31PM] [ mood | satisfied ] [ music | Random songs of Pulp Fiction playing in my mind ] I can't stand these parental walls. My life is run how my parents want it to be run whether or not I try to rebel against their antics. At least I can manage to enjoy the freedom I do have. I just hate the teenage life although I don't want to grow up either...go figure. I swear that today was Sunday. Whenever I'm enjoying myself I lose conception of time...maybe so I don't have reminders that the fun will stop. I planned this well today. I figured I won't get that much sleep today and then tomorrow I'll sleep all day. Damn you. Damn you. My weekend still rocked the fucking casbah...it can't take that away from me. Touche. Wash My Skin of all the Hate

Just something I thought I would mention. [October 13th 2002|1:58PM] I had planned out this post on the date that it occurred, but you know me...I forget everything. I was just on the porch talking with Diana and Andy and we brought up the fact that my house burned down on my mother's birthday 6 years ago on October 4th. So... HAPPY BELATED BURN DAY! Wash My Skin of all the Hate

In your room the souls disapear, only you exist here [October 10th 2002|5:52PM] [ mood | content ] [ music | Love Ridden- Fiona Apple ] Time transcends faster than I can catch my breath. It's such an overwhelming feeling when you realize how fast time goes by. Like, last year I remember everything perfectly as if it happened yesterday...not like there were any real key events of last year at this moment, but just the fact that nothing has really faded. I can't even remember where all the time went or how it went by so fast. Is life precious after all when you look back at how much you wasted it? Perhaps those are the most precious times. I've decided I'm not going to make fun of anybody who doesn't deserve it anymore. I sometimes make fun of people because of pre-judgmental stereotypes. I don't think of myself higher than anybody else, but I shouldn't sink to the level of the ones that do. For instance, those bleached blond moronic testosterone-feeders who act like ditzs...a few of them are extremely nice. They don't deserve insults. I'm leaning towards neo-hippiness. I believe in peace, bitch. I read a few entries from December to February and realized that I have changed immensely in the past few months, but I enjoy who I am not a lot more than who I was before. I'm a lot more insightful now and not consumed with as much gluttony. I think I finally like who I am...now if only I could smile. Wash My Skin of all the Hate

DOUCHE BAG. [October 9th 2002|6:37PM] [ mood | enraged ] If I ever have to re-string my god damned guitar again I'm going to take the fucking guitar and stab myself in the face with it over and over until I cease to live. It is the most irritable thing you can possibly do to yourself ESPECIALLY when the g-string fucking snaps as your putting it on. Worthless piece of crap... 3 Miles from the Sun Wash My Skin of all the Hate

Tear your little world apart. [October 9th 2002|3:16PM] [ mood | pleased ] [ music | Softer Softest- Hole ] I like it when everything on the agenda in my mind gets done. It just pushes so much crap off my shoulders. I get so happy when people like my work. In creative writing I'm writing this story that my teacher seems to love and I'm happy that somebody thinks I'm talented. It amazes me how fast the days go by and how little each day I seem to accomplish. Eh, minor dilemma of growing up I guess. I recently flipped over my mattress because I got sick of the depressing reminders marked on it. And I found on the other side faded markings of a pink milky pen Sara wrote. It was so strange...that was from way back in 8th grade. I remember that night. Haha, we used milky pens as eyeliners just for shits. Oh those were the days. I highly suggest you don't use them as eyeliner. My finger is twilight blue and there it will stay. Wash My Skin of all the Hate

Maybe one day she'll be her own [October 8th 2002|8:18PM] [ mood | Ugly ] [ music | Girl- Tori Amos ] I really wish I was more inclined in the arts. It's what I enjoy so much, but I can't quite grasp it or perfect it. I am a psychological perfectionist. I wish I were a blown out perfectionist...I would get a lot more done and not to mention my dissheveled room would be immaculate...oh if only. Apathy really kills everything though. Any dreams I have are all spoiled by the immense amount of apathy inside. I wish I were the type that people idolized. I wish I were the type of person where you go, "Damn, she's going to be something great". I really don't feel like I'll ever be the girl I have thought out with much desire in my mind. I'm just a wannabe with no significance or any potential talent. ::Pessimistic?:: I hate how useless I am. Wash My Skin of all the Hate

[October 6th 2002|4:10AM] [ mood | exhausted ] Why must I be repetively subjected to this torturous life? I mean, no it's not that terrible. I'm not sure how to describe everything that I'm feeling. The other day I was walking home from work and all I could think of were the great qualities I had. I felt strong and well assured that I was a good human being and lucky for everything I had. It's all but a phase I can never keep up with. I like the feeling you get when everything makes beautiful sense and you feel as though an explosion would go off right in front of you and you would just gracely walk through the flames and smothered air. I am unstable now. It started with something shatter in front of me. An object that enticed me and teased me and made me feel so alone and helpless. And there was no comfort on all sides. Like being trapped on an island with such compacted space that one little move would knock me off of it. I don't know either. I've been writing my individual project for Creative Writing all day. It's coming out great, one of the only good qualities I can sustain and take advantage of. Everything else...is out of my hands. I'm exhausted. 1 Mile from the Sun Wash My Skin of all the Hate

I'm a sucker for surveys. Damn you punkknot [October 3rd 2002|11:25PM] [ mood | exhausted ] ::name:: Natalie ::nickname(s):: The closest to a nickname I've gotten is people abbreviating my name to Nat. ::location:: Long Island ::birthday:: August 16...I'm so special, Elvis Presley and Babe Ruth died on my birthday and Madonna was born. I'm so eventful. ::family:: Undivorced parents, a dog, 5 cats, a bunny, Bob Dole, oh and 2 brothers. ::best friend(s):: Diana ::school:: If this is a question of spite, fuck you. ::hobbies:: writing, playing guitar, drawing, painting, all that shnazey art shits. ::boyfriend/girlfriend:: Relationships are overrated. I agree with Diana. what makes your... ::heart ache:: The perpetual hate in this world. ::head ache:: People who are intentionally loud and obnoxious...especially girls who do this. ::eye sore:: Lack o' sleep like right now. ::heart beat:: Heart? Beat? ::foot tap:: Good music. I am so specific. ::teeth show:: When stupid get what they deserve... ::grins deviously:: today you're wearing... ::top:: Black baby t-shirt with red longsleeve fishnets underneath. Thumb-holes included. ::bottom:: Dark blue Tilt Jeans with a leopard stap around the belt loops portraying my lack of actually belt-ness. ::shoes:: My volatile shiny black shoes with glittery red laces. ::underwear:: My new black bra (ohhh yeah) and day o' the week underwear...I believe I'm wearing Monday...I am aware. are you... ::holy:: In every single sense possible, no. ::punctured:: If you mean pierced, then I'd say yes...6 earrings in total and 1 nose ring. Ha. So I guess I am holy! ...That was terrible Natalie... ::colorful:: Nope. My wardrobe consists of blacks, purples, reds, and some blues. ::fashionable:: So I'm told. ::strong:: Externally, yes. Internally, I'm a nervous wreck. ::intelligent:: I consider myself to be fairly intelligent, but I'm also incredibly modest. ::shy:: I used to be extremely shy. But I've broken out of my shell for the most part and I'm enjoying it. ::a picky eater:: Oh, the worst to ever walk this Earth. what's your favorite... ::food:: Oriental Ramen Noodle, Mashed Potatoes, Strawberries, and Hot Pockets. Whoa... ::beverage:: Mountain Dew fuckin' ownz, yo. ::ice cream:: BLEH! I hate ice cream. ::candy:: Reese's Peanutbutter Cups, Kit Kats, Twix, Snickers, yada yada yada. ::band:: Bush ::tv show:: I don't watch much of it...which may be why I'm always so lost when people talk about current events. ::movies:: I can't answer this...there are way too many to name. ::sleeping postion:: Lying on my right side and curled. who's your favorite person to... ::talk to on the phone:: I never talk on the phone anymore. ::talk to in real life:: Diana. ::party with:: Close friends. ::laugh with:: Anybody who's humorous. Wash My Skin of all the Hate

[October 3rd 2002|1:41AM] [ mood | scared ] [ music | Ode to No One- Smashing Pumpkins ] I always just thought it was a childish act I sometimes had sparks of fear over. But I'm beginning to second guess myself completely with those words of bittersweet denial. I sometimes have nights where I'm pinned down by some unknown force...I'm afraid to try and move. Other nights, I just lie in bed staring at the ceiling feeling as though I'm being observed by one person, with every breathe I take I feel as though I'm being glared at- sometimes from afar but other times like they're staring right into my eyes and reading my thoughts. It's the cause of my insomnia really. I think I have overactive senses...it seems to be the only rational conclusion I've come up with. Either that or I'm just still stuck in my youth, afraid of the monster in my closet. Though, I never was afraid of those. I sometimes question if I'm gifted...or insane. And with the luck fate hands me, I'm insane beyond all reason. 1 Mile from the Sun Wash My Skin of all the Hate

But I enjoy this freezing water. [October 2nd 2002|6:47PM] [ mood | exhausted ] [ music | To Forgive- Smashing Pumpkins ] I have a lot to do right now. I have about 5 homework assignments and I want to start planning out my creative writing project. I think I'm happy with myself and what I'm doing. What I'm not happy with is everything running through my mind...it's not that I have much stress or anything. I just tend to piss myself off with my own thoughts. I tend to see the darker side of things and enjoy it better that way. So for sex ed, I have to make any sort of project relating to puberty and the reproductive system. Me, being the idiot I am, decided on doing a children's book on nocturnal emmissions. I guess for my own sick amusement. Perhaps I'll add a pop-up page to conclude the story. Today Little Billy woke up and thought he wet his bed...Little Billy was poorly mistaken... 2 Miles from the Sun Wash My Skin of all the Hate

There's nothing left for me to hide. [October 1st 2002|1:52PM] [ mood | I wish I were naive. ] I am alone...completely. And who's fault is it other than my own? Why do I feel I must push people away? Why do I feel that I am better off on my own? I had this strange urge yesterday to kill myself. Not for any reason but the future. It just seemed so overwhelming. I could never see myself successful. I could never see myself out of the ordinary even if I try so hard to not be a sheep to society. I saw myself gradually get fat, gradually have my mind slip away, and I saw myself as a drunk housewife. Why must I see these terrible visions? To be that would go against everything I ever wanted in life. But then I think...what am I living for? This life is so automatic. Why does the future scare me so much? I look around me. I see things that take place everyday in this present life. I look back 50 years ago to a time where everything was still so pure. I see this world growing more and more fucked. And every bit of hate and human destruction is taking gruesome form into the future. Smoke filled air and dirty hands are but a normal life. I see this happening and I want nothing to do with it. I ignore the daily news...I don't want to see this world slipping more and more into the hands of evil. I see hell making it's way up to the heavens. But then again, there is no heaven or hell...this is hell. I will die sad and alone. 5 Miles from the Sun Wash My Skin of all the Hate

You're just a copy of an imitation. [September 27th 2002|10:48PM] [ mood | blank ] I love how I say I'm going to do something and then do the exact opposite. To spite myself? But of course. It's the only way to add something less than ordinary to this boring life of mine...hmm, creating my downfall for entertainment...nice. Sleep. Tomorrow. Forever. I dyed my hair yesterday and I don't mean to sound conceited...but my hair looks sexy as hell. I can't explain it...it's just something you see and go, wow...red...black...oOoOoOo. Feel my power. I hate my life. Wash My Skin of all the Hate

What? [September 26th 2002|3:26PM] [ mood | Miserable...but happy. ] I feel like smashing my fist through a concrete wall, crying from the pain of it and then repeating the cycle over and over until my fist is gone. Don't ask me why, I just have so much angst I need to vent...but I can't with words...or anything else for that matter. I push away everything. Anything that starts to take beautiful form, I smash into unfixable pieces. I'm a psychological masochist for reasons I can't understand. I used to be such a nice person too. Wash My Skin of all the Hate

I want to smash the faces of all the beautiful boys, those Christian boys [September 25th 2002|2:49PM] [ mood | exhausted ] [ music | Happy Phantom- Tori Amos ] Today I might as well have cut off my legs and dragged my bleeding body down the halls of the school. That's giving me too much credit though. Moths and cobwebs fill my inert mind...anybody have a mind duster? That would help a lot. Yeah. Fuck, my head is killing me and the voices in my head are taunting me into sleeping forever...I may just take them up on that offer. Perpetual slumber...sounds charming. Mmmm. Good god. This innocent post has been slaughtered by my blithering mind. Bad brain. 4 Miles from the Sun Wash My Skin of all the Hate

Dreams to be analyzed, [September 23rd 2002|3:01PM] [ mood | hungry ] [ music | Shake the Disease- Depeche Mode ] I was half asleep last night and I had the strangest dream. It's not really all that strange, but it just left me unsettled in the darkness of my room. I remember waking up from something that horrified me and tossing around in my sleep. I look up at my door and I see nothing out of the ordinary, but I begin to scream for my father. My screams seemed to be muted and I just scream air. I keep calling for my father and finally I hear him say, what? I begin to tell him but I haven't anything to say and by now, I can't speak at all. So I just lay back down and all of a sudden I actually wake up. It was the weirdest thing I've ever dreamt, though nothing really out of the ordinary happened. It was more of a thinking dream. And I have come home from a crappy day of school to find that my front door is pink. WHO PAINTS THEIR FRONT DOOR PINK?! Oh wait, my obviously cracked out beyond belief parents. Wash My Skin of all the Hate

Why can't we sleep forever? [September 22nd 2002|10:36PM] [ mood | Alone in my thoughts. ] [ music | With or Without You- U2 ] I don't know. This weekend was so strange, like a dream you can't awaken from. To long for the escape of the compacted dead atmosphere and stare in despair out the seemingly impossible window...the only escape crushed in front of your eyes. So I stare where I lie in hopes of escaping through thoughts. And I always have my temporary escapes, but crashing back down always hurts more than living in it. This is what I remember. It's all I want out of everything I've lived for. Hope not to long, but to do. The only thoughts that make sense in my mind are the words, I don't know, with each time seeming more and more true. Maybe I shouldn't think so hard. I really wish I weren't here right now. 2 Miles from the Sun Wash My Skin of all the Hate

Singed wings and broken dreams. [September 20th 2002|5:57PM] [ mood | Bothered by many things ] [ music | Liquid Courage- Pretty Girls Make Graves ] I'm trying to pry myself away from the computer, especially livejournal. Not that I really want to, but that I should. Repetitive, boring, upsetting posts about the same fucking shit looming throughout my mind. I think I'll make this a private journal one day to avoid tormenting others with my useless crap. Not now though. I can analyze myself, but I can never help myself. How can emptiness consume a person? Isn't it a bit contradicting when you say you're full of emptiness? I guess that's the tragedy. Some flaming fucker called me Avril Lavigne today because I was wearing black and white striped stockings. My response was simple- "Fuck you.". Proving a point that I am getting very aggressive and snappish. I don't see it as a bad thing though, considering how I used to deal with things. I just don't care enough about human beings enough to feel bad. I don't always cover my mouth when I cough or sneeze anymore...because I don't care enough about people to. Cold, cynical, heartless, bitchy, disturbing, evil. ...like music to my ears. 1 Mile from the Sun Wash My Skin of all the Hate

How can everything be justified by you? [September 18th 2002|10:16PM] [ mood | thoughtful ] [ music | Drugstore- Stabbing Westward ] Is it wrong to see symbolic meaning in just about everything? I'm in a different world at all times and everything in this world has meaning in this life of mine. I can't help but feel alone knowing that most people don't think the way I do...you know, the way normal people think. The other day, I saw a young girl sitting on the bleachers waiting patiently to go in the pool (this was while watching Antoinette at swim practice). Her hair dark and unkempt, her cheeks swelling up to meet her button nose, her puggish figure...it reminded me of myself as a young girl. I was always very passive and calm, my parents told me that I would rather stare at everything around me then cry. Rarely did I ever do that. Then yesterday while standing on the agonizing line in H&M;, I saw two girls that were told to stop sleeping on the clothes. One girl ran to her mother guilt-ridden and began sobbing and holding her leg while the other stood there looking at the girl. I could tell that the other girl was questioning why the sobbing girl did what she did and it placed her in an awkward position whether or not to give sympathy. Don't ask me how I saw this...maybe I should be a child psychologist. You think this was a redundant statement? Then you haven't been paying attention. I see people holding hands in the hallway, unsatisfied with their partner, exchanging awkward looks, and then going into a corner and making out. It's pretty depressing to watch that. To me...it just goes against everything I stand for in a relationship. And now to break the tranquil post this was forming into, something I was thinking about work. I was thinking that maybe I should just quit. I am that of a loose tooth in the mouth of an anxious child...instead of being pulled, I should just fall out on my own. It's ironic though that I just put in my green working card and now I'll be quitting. Still undecided whether or not I should just quit. They keep building up more reasons to fire me. Should I stand strong? I would apologize for my rather long post, but I won't. Wash My Skin of all the Hate

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