=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
emotional skin
--------------
"jesus christ michelle, it's like walking on eggshells around you.
can't you ever just take what i say literally? why do you have to
twist everything that i say?"
oh no, here she goes again. fuck. michael ran his hand through
his long dark hair in frustration and looked at his girlfriend,
who was sprawled on the couch, idly smoking a cigarette, her grey
eyes flat and uncaring.
"i am not twisting anything, michael. i can just tell how
you feel. you don't even have to say anything. i just know. and you
think i am a total bitch, don't you? don't you? tell me the truth. i
want to know."
fuck, fuck. all i want to do is go out with my friends,
and she keeps pulling this shit on me. what the hell is wrong with
her?
"what do you want me to say? if i say no, you'll say i am
lying. if i say yes, you'll leave and do something stupid. the same
cycle, over and over again michelle. what do you want me to say?"
"i want you to tell me what you really think. i want you to
be honest with me. fuck, michael. what will it take to just get you
to fucking be honest?"
michael squeezed his eyes shut and imagined slapping some
sense into her. compassion won.
"i can't be honest with you. i don't even know how i feel
anymore. you twist things around so that i don't know what is me
and what it you."
michelle put out her cigarette, stretched, and stood.
her eyes were still dead, but a single tear escaped.
"that's it. it's over. you obviously can't deal with me.
not like you promised. not like you said. you are a fucking asshole.
you abandoned me! you gave up on me. and you promised you wouldn't.
i hate you, michael."
huh? what did i do? abandon her? when i am just going out
for the night? what the fuck is she talking about?
michelle plucked her jeans off of the floor and put them
on.
"i'm going out for awhile."
michael looked at her in amazement. how did we get from there
to here? well, fuck her.
"michelle..."
michelle slapped him once, hard.
"don't talk to me, asshole. go to your little group of friends,
who hate me anyway, and leave me alone."
i'll never understand this girl.
then she walked out.
emotional skin, part ii
michelle laid on the couch and lit a cigarette and looked at
her boyfriend, who was getting ready to go out with his friends. she
hated it when he went out with his friends. she knew that they hated
her, and she knew that they said shit about her behind her back.
"michael, why don't you stay here tonight? you know, you, me,
together? alone?"
michael sighed.
"michelle, i already made plans. you do this all the time."
anger boiled up inside of michelle, a murderous rage. how
dare he? he doesn't love me. his friends are more important than i
am.
"oh, so now you think i am a bitch. just because i wanted to
spend the evening with you. fuck you."
"jesus christ michelle, it's like walking on eggshells around you.
can't you ever just take what i say literally? why do you have to
twist everything that i say?"
michelle closed her eyes. not again, no not again. why do
i have to be so sick? why do i have to think this way? she opened
her eyes and watched michael run his hands through his hair and
sigh. great, now he is really mad at me.
"i am not twisting anything, michael. i can just tell how
you feel. you don't even have to say anything. i just know. and you
think i am a total bitch, don't you? don't you? tell me the truth. i
want to know."
"what do you want me to say? if i say no, you'll say i am
lying. if i say yes, you'll leave and do something stupid. the same
cycle, over and over again michelle. what do you want me to say?"
i want you to tell me that you love me, that you accept me
for who i am, that you will not abandon me. i want you to care about
me forever. i want you to tell me that i am ok, that you understand.
michelle sighed and opened her mouth, teeth gritted.
"i want you to tell me what you really think. i want you to
be honest with me. fuck, michael. what will it take to just get you
to fucking be honest?"
"i can't be honest with you. i don't even know how i feel
anymore. you twist things around so that i don't know what is me
and what it you."
sure, blame it on me. as usual. you typical fucking freak.
michelle put out her cigarette, stretched, and stood. her eyes were
were still dead, but a single tear escaped.
"that's it. it's over. you obviously can't deal with me.
not like you promised. not like you said. you are a fucking asshole.
you abandoned me! you gave up on me. and you promised you wouldn't.
i hate you, michael."
michelle plucked her jeans off of the floor and put them
on. will he care enough to stay? to talk to me? to help me with my
pain? to deal with my aloneness?
"i'm going out for awhile."
"michelle..."
michelle slapped him once, hard. please pay attention to me.
"don't talk to me, asshole. go to your little group of friends,
who hate me anyway, and leave me alone."
then she walked out.
emotional skin part iii
"you have no armor, michelle. you have nothing to protect you
from emotional elements."
michelle glared at her therapist, bored with the same old same
old.
"i know that. give me prozac and i will be on my merry little
way."
michelle's therapist sighed, wrote out a prescription, and
handed it to her.
"you know, you really need to combine..."
"medication with therapy, pure medication is contraindicated
with borderline personality disorder. yeah, i know. but guess what,
doctor? i've been doing this for 10 years, and i really don't have
faith in the oracle of bullshit anymore. thank you, doctor. when
you find a cure, let me know."
"you need therapy."
"yeah? tell my insurance company. thanks for the drugs, doc."
then she walked out.
- Palpable Obscure
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
= Questions, Comments, Bitches, Ideas, Rants, Death Threats, Submissions =
= Mail: jericho@dimensional.com (Mail is welcomed) =
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
= To receive new issues through mail, mail jericho@dimensional.com with =
= "subscribe fuck". If you do not have FTP access and would like back =
= issues, send a list of any missing issues and they will be mailed. =
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
= Files through AnonFTP FTP.DIMENSIONAL.COM/users/jericho/FUCK =
= FTP.SEKURITY.ORG/pub/zines/fucked.up.college.kids =
= FTP.PRISM.NET/pub/users/mercuri/zines/fuck =
= FTP.WINTERNET.COM/users/craigb/fuck =
= FTP.GIGA.OR.AT/pub/hackers/zines/FUCK =
= FTP.ETEXT.ORG/pub/Zines/FUCK =
= Files through WWW: http://www.dimensional.com/~jericho =
= http://www.prism.net/zineworld/fuck/ =
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
= (c) Copyright. All files copyright by the original author. =
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=