smoking and media and Chelsie Ast.

and god help us all. i was born fucking cranky. i started bitching about light the minute i saw it. so i am not saying that cigarettes cured that, but they did curb my inner curb your enthusiasm. but now i am giving them up. i havent smoked in two in a half days. fuck! it is really not that bad, i have gone days without smoking before, no big deal, but maybe writing about isnt helping because as of right now as i type this sentence i want to smoke one bad. my point is i am pissed off at everything. every little teeny tiny anything i want to fucking KICK IT and then KILL IT and then kick it again.

like right now, tiger woods is on the tv. now the fact be banged 27 porn stars and hookers left and right does not bother me. i dont care who does what to who or when and why. its the fact grown adults spend tv time talking about someones personal shit when there is so many stories that are a little more important.

but i know, how many times have people made that same complaint? i feel like such a defeatist. the fighter in me got gang raped a long time ago, by tiger woods of all people. the media covers stupid shit. real problems like aids and poverty and corporate corruption will always be and will not be covered, and the people that do cover the bullshit on the inter web are so pissed off at the fact that no one is doing anything that they get wrapped up in this che inspired rhetoric and sound like a fucking nut case. WE WILL DESTROY THE GOVERNMENT FROM THE INSIDE AND BRING IT BACK TO THE PEOPLE! THEY PLANNED 911! GLEN BECK IS AN IDIOT!

and the really smart sensible people just turn into apathy. fuck it, its all a lost cause anyway, let the fish eat the other fish and i am going to enjoy my drinks and my casual sex and the things that make me happy. and really, it is hard not to go into that line of thinking. that is probably the one i am closest to. but my problem is every once in a while i will get sucked into something like health care or I'll read something that some corporation did and it will piss me off and i will want to do something about it.

like smoke a fucking cigarette.

the thing i love more then anything is when the weather is freezing cold and you are you with your loved one and she smells so good in the cold cold weather and you hold her hand and, well fuck, i dont know, i like girls in cold weather.

like smoking a fucking cigerette.

there was this girl and her name was Chelsie Ast. she lived in my town when she was very young. she did not get along with many people, but she did have quite a few friends. she had a rough time in elementary school. when she was 12 years old her mom died of a rare blood disease. she lived alone with her mom in a shitty apartment on front street that i am sure she shared with a cloud of crack and weed smoke. i went in there once and her mom was in the living room, sitting there and looking sick and lost.

when her mom died she lived with her grandparents for a little while, but i dont think they could handle her. she was starting to act out a little bit, get into some drugs and some odd people. eventually her grandparents passed her off to live with her asshole redneck dad who had abandoned her when she was a little kid. she moved from Ohio to the bottom of Florida to the nothingness of Tennessee where her dad lived. i do not know all of the details but i have a couple letters she sent me and it sounded like her dad was just a drunk careless asshole who could give three fucks about Chelsie. she started cutting herself and got kicked out of two schools in under a year.

three years after she left she came back to town to visit a couple people. she came over to my house when no one was there and we had crazy and hot sex on the floor of my bedroom. she was the second women i had sex with it. it was sweary and she screamed and it felt really good. we hung out for a while naked and her grandparents came and she threw her clothes on and kissed me and i never saw her again. this was probably the summer of 2003.

a lot happened in between then and now and i fell out of touch with her, although i thought about her every once in a while. last sunday i realized that i could look her up on facebook and see what she was up to, see if she was ok. i had a tiny feeling in my head that something bad had happened to her. i type in her name on facebook and nothing comes up. i got to myspace and nothing comes up.

so i type her name google and the first article is an old article from a local newspaper. the article was about teens going to a summer camp to deal with grief. she was the main kid they talked to. she was 12, right after her mothers death. in the article they all stood around a bonfire and held letters and gifts from their dead parents or dead sisters or brothers. lost and sad kids who are ruined forever standing around fire holding relics of things they want back more then anything. i read it and picture her standing there.

the second hit was a list of dead social security numbers. i guess when you die they list off your number. i click it and it says Chelsie Ast, 1988-2004, buried in Tennessee, Death Notice from Ohio. she died the march after i saw her. there is no obituary any where on the internet and no articles about how she died.

from the beginning this girl was giving nothing but a shit deal. and most people won't remember her. she was sweet and kind but troubled, and no one was there for her. i wasn't. i cared about her but i was a young a pussy obsessed teenager, and she was another notch on the belt at the time. survivors guilt? not that much. she was destined for something bad to happen to her, but maybe i could of done something a little bit more then just fuck her.

now Chelsie haunts me every day.

i need a fucking cigarette.