1.20.2005
diary of a dead girl (1)

Diary of a Dead Girl


Entry 1

Jon always said he loved my hair. He would brush it off my face to kiss me and push it back in my eyes immediately afterwards. 'Sex hair,' he said. 'You have Fuck-Me-Hair,' he'd say and then he'd fuck me. It didn't matter where. We'd be outside my apartment, at the door with the porch light off and he'd fuck me against the wall.

After Jon left me, I cut it all off. Every strand mutilated. Destroyed. My mother cried. I swear to god, she liked my hair more than she liked me. She used to spend hours brushing it and telling me how beautiful it was and that I should treat it better. It was hair, for god's sake. Hair.

Fuck-Me-Against-A-Wall-And-Leave-Me-Hair.

I swear to god, man, people only want one thing from you. Maybe it's love, maybe it's affection, maybe it's sex. Whatever it is, they want it. And if you give it to them they usually quit wanting it and you're left with an emptiness. You. Not them. They already had their own emptiness. They just passed it on to you like a sexually transmitted disease.

So you go out and you find what you want and you fill that void. You pass that disease onto someone else. And you don't feel bad, because if you didn't do it, someone else would.


*** Note: This is a work of fiction. It does not necessarily represent the opinions of the author (me).

Posted at 10:30:16 pm by TheKaren

fetal feast
January 21, 2005   10:43 AM PST
 
I'll probably have to read it another 4 or 5 times to totally wrap my mind around it, but I think I partially agree with the idea.
Lyly
January 21, 2005   12:36 PM PST
 
great entry.
jefferson
January 24, 2005   01:13 PM PST
 
good start... where's more?
Katriana
January 24, 2005   02:08 PM PST
 
I'll post more of it soon enough. Hold your horses.
megume
February 8, 2005   10:30 PM PST
 
wow powerful stuff
bekaking261
August 11, 2006   09:33 AM PDT
 
I dig it
 

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