THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. Samantha
2. Sam
3. Sammeh

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. My hair, which is nice.
2. Umm my eyes
3. my brain

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. obvious
2. my boobs or lack thereof
3. shoulders

THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. English
2. Welsh
3. More Welsh

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. Spiders
2. Pistachios
3. emotions

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. Glasses
2. Interblogs
3. Lesbian Sex

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. this is really embrassing
2. because i'm not
3. actually wearing anything except glasses

THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE MUSICAL ARTISTS:
1. Amanda Palmer
2. Ladytron
3. Team Dresch

THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE SONGS AT THE MOMENT:
1. Astronaut: A Short History of Nearly Nothing - Amanda Palmer
2. The Perfect Fit - The Dresden Dolls
3. Bee-Stung - Splendora

THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
1. Good communication
2. Intellectual Fulfillment
3. Passion

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE (in no particular order):
1. I can play piano really well
2. I played guitar in an electro band during highschool
3. I can program nearly anything

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1. hhahahahah
2. bahahhhahhaha
3. wait you're serious?...

THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE HOBBIES:
1. Creating art
2. Drama, as in the creation of
3. Snuggling

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. Stop being sick
2. Drink heavily
3. Take photos of strangers

THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING/YOU'VE CONSIDERED:
1. Drunken Rambling Gallery Manager
2. Drunken Rambling Angry Bookstore Owner
3. Drunken Rambling Record Store Owner

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1. Vancouver
2. London
3. Paris

THREE KIDS' NAMES YOU LIKE:
1. Prudence
2. Constance
3. Temperance

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. To be able to get married in Australia.
2. To be a mummy
3. Have surgery

THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY LIKE A GIRL:
1. I'm a gigantic feminist.
2. I hate men (not implied by the above)
3. I really enjoy dressing up and looking pretty.

THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY LIKE A BOY:
1. Very nerdy?
2. Emotionally Crippled
3. I like checking out girls

You'll find new stuff on my deviant art tonight. you should see it. There will be alot.

Http://sammiemac.deviantart.com

All shot on 35mm film. Enjoy.

Also i've applied to have some work exhibited later this year. lets hope I get the okay.

You can't let it all get too you, and you've heard this ten thousand times probably...and I'm hypocritical but if you let everything that isn't perfect or right in the world get too you. whether its some stupid thing you see on tv or a snide comment somebody says that makes you want to push them in front of a truck. You've gotta just push it away and file it in a box that says 'understood and comprehended' and then file it away with the rest of the junk. Anything other than that in life isn't amazingly important. obviously aside from hot lesbian sex.

People are like sardine tins. most of the easy ones anyway. of course sometimes you open one and there is another fucking sardine tin in there. so you open that? fucking tuna. and you sit there with your can opener head lolled back in defeat.

As before, in no particular order. enjoy.

Bec has so little weight on, at first I thought she was a tranny.

Mother Nature is new, looks like she does rikiki or whatever.
Shes another ED kid who doesnt eat.
I name her after one of the chracters in my favorite novel, looks so down to earth and in touch with herself.
Radiates feung shui. But really I'm just giving her a backstory.
I don't know her at all.

Her are dark and peircing.
Little pads of forbidden knowledge, tiny black libraries embeded in her skull.
If only she had a brain to match her eyes.

Shes a first timer here at hollywood.
Confused and still settling in.
She'll pick up the feel of the palce in time.


Killing time between lunch and dinner, between highs and lows.
Katie leans in too close like a bird who's about to grab a worm and she says in a shrill you'd expect from the same.
"Would you prefer sammie!?"

While I slept I had fever dreams all with the same ending.
That people say me naked in public.
All my dreams end like that.
My genitals there for all to see.
And me in TEARS.

Hell even one where some throat doctor wanted to give me an adams apple.
I was freaked out and woke up in a daze.
Lets blame the meds.

We are all just a garden of people, fed like clock work with water and fertilizer ever few hours.
I am a rubber plant.

Too many people, not enough souls left to go around.
A copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a...

Earth is the universes biggest xerox machine.

All life is all about lists.
Going over it, checking the boes.
Number one is to fix yourself.
The World.
Your Parents
Your Body.

Number Two is too do everything else.

These are the things I haven't taught myself.
These are the things I teach myself.
Again and again.
Go down your lists, the routine of existance.
Enjoy it.
Thats number three.

Do you have a daily routine?
1. Get up (before 2pm)

This morning Ms Kimya fills my ears with sound, pure happy from the music godess.

I had a wonderful weekend and I just miss just lying in the park with my girlfriend.

To help wake me up I flip my dial to Ms Palmer and hammer out some pure inspiration into my brain.

Music is better than sex, better than religion, science or even being happy,
My music lifts my mood but I guess the crash at the end is inevitable.
Life, Death, Cycles.
Circular existance, managed.

You can mange anything if you try hard enough.
Make enough lists or enough plans.
Or choices.

As long as you do something.
Hell even appearing to be something can work just as well.
We all hide behind ourselves.
The camera behind the camera behind the camera. (Oh yes Mr Palahnuik, i just ripped you again as is I'm eloquent enough to make that up.

My girlfriend says that I do matter, that I actually have worth.
Even laurel says I have no self esteem.
They are right, my opinion is worthless and I'm definatley lacking in societal value.
Atleats thats my opinion.


Fascinating, she listens intently.
Her life is managed to the point she cant find anything else to do.
When somebody forces her to go outside.
She gets stressed.


Gabriel reads her bible, slowly shes getting bigger.
When she arrived she was a labratory skeleton some 5th graders decided to cover in grans old clothes.
Job:37:2 or whatever this is her comfort.
Is this book of hers divine, or meerly a work of paranormal tales?
The X-files for the roman ages.
Mary and Jesus instead of Scully and Mulder.
Perhaps I've watched too much TV.
But go read it yourself, you'll see.

She reads it daily, a guide for her life.
God helps us all she says.
I remind her to watch her implications.

'God' may help you.
But I dont need faith to get by.
Or your god.
I have my pet rock.
If i need a god I'll deify that.
It's just as responsive.
And thats a scientifically tested fact.

I'm going to ask her who she is without god.
And what does she have against hot lesbian sex?


My girl rings, shes at a comic convention.
Anything you want she says a sarcastic edge in her voice.
I say nothing, while my brain says the latest Angel.
Nah i'm good thanks.
Those big thigh pocks of hers will be stuffed with action figures when she leaves anyway.
Baggy jeans hiding lumpy knees and freckled thighs.


That visceral part of the mind isn't listed on any charts.
It has no name, only descriptions.
Symptoms if you will.
Choices if you wil again.

The part that laughs when somebody gets pushed into traffic.
The part that turns on the races just to see the crashes.

Those momments you desire kinky sex?
Thats it again.
Working its sick way into your subcinscious mind.

It loves terrible things.
That jolt of energy when you get scratched or you get hurt.

Hell, when you talk to a stranger.
Or smoke your first cigarette.

That deep part of all of us that wants to self destruct.


I asked her the question.
Who are you without god.
With a touch of anger and a little fear she replies.

'Without god we wouldn't be here'
She even capitalised it in her enauciation.

I sigh knowing the argument is fruitless.
Under my breath I mutter, 'we all came from apes...'
She scoffs obviously, like I'm some evil thing come to poision her.
Thats right I'm your personal satan.
Archdevil Mistress of Darkness.
Obviously.
Your personal salvation.
Really now.

I'm just an inquisitve woman, with more smarts than sense.
Who loves to grate christians.
Just another sinner.


Choices again right?
The only choice involved is todo or not.
Otherwise its just impulse.
To take that little bit of action by letter that part of you take control.
Personal rebellion against yourself.
Personal freedom.

Freedom not to be yourself but to be what we all once were.
Not darkness.
Before we had names for everything.
Before conciousness this is who we were.

Everytime some cuts themself?
Thats them channeling some billion year old animal instinct.

We were bred as animals to fight our enemies.
Our enemies.
Ourselves.
So its logical that once the ability to fight ourselves became a possibility, through that little bit of uplift we call evolution.
That suddenly.
We would make war on ourselves.
Our own worst enemies.
Congratulations you are your own personal Hitler.
And you didn't even know it.

Heather smiles with all her teeth, her lips peel from the summer sun and always carved in chapstick.
My little chapstick dyke.
Hair short, like short short.
Military short.
Brown with blonde streaks.
Little bright rays of light flowing through her rug of hair.

Eyes innocent behind librarian glasses.
Thick eyebrows blough sideways toward her temples and ears.
Just pink folds with metal bolts.

Tall and lanky her arms long at her sides.
Hands seem older than somebody of only 27.
Her fingernails cut short as to be non-existant.

Small hills of her breasts flow on her chest.
Small but beautiful under the coarse woolen fabric of her sweaters.

Everything on her is slightly to short.
The top of abdomen a valley of pale white flesh under the fabric of her top.
Blue jeans baggy with many pockets her her arse and curvy hips.

She could pass as a boy in the right lighting.
I call her a girl in the car and she complains.
My butch woman always ready to say 'No!' to wearing a dress.


This intelligence is a curse most of the time.

Diary Extracts from Hollywood Private Hospital. Not in any particular order.
I'm home from hospital for the weekend if it goes well I will be home sometime early next week. I miss you all.

- Samantha

Roughly 17 pages after the cut

( Read more if you dare to venture into the uncharted realms of my subconscious )

This morning I admitted myself to Hollywood Private Hospital for intense psychiatric care.

Back eventually.

wont you just fix it for me.
i'll pay you well.

heck i'll pay you anything if you can end this hell.

I <3 You

I can put my whole fist into my mouth.

After constant anxiety and panic attacks today, and now i'm freaking out at loud noises agian.
This job is causing me to relapse.

It is time to quit.