im a terribly divisive person
all i really want is someone who's like me.
we can be divisive together
if that makes any sense

we can try to make sense of the world as we know it
because i'm not sure i can make it alone, you know?

the point of it all.

so girl meets boy. girl and boy grow close. girl and boy stop talking.
few years later, girl meets boy again. they reconnect. they grow close yet again, and it blossoms into what she's convinced is the best thing that's happened to her in a long while.
and for a brief length of time, it is.
but that all changes when boy brings another girl up, and this creates a worry that never leaves girl's mind.

eventually, the shit hits the fan and girl realizes this boy was not all that she had been hoping for, and that she should have thought a little more about being able to trust him before letting herself get so attached, that it was a bad idea to begin with, that for every sweet thing he said, there was an equivocally terrible word he would have no reservations throwing at her. at least that's how it felt.

when friends ask me whether something is worth pursuing or fixing, i ask this:
does the good outweigh the bad?

if the answer is yes, then by all means, pursue this. it could be worthwhile.
if the answer is no, then you need to get out of there.


by now the thing that aches the most is the regret that comes from wasting my time.
because being led on is never fun, and you don't tell somebody you love them just for the sake of the moment, because you think it's what she wants to hear. and you don't bring up somebody else from your past and expect her to take it.

next time a strapping young lad comes my way, perhaps we will see eye to eye a little more, and perhaps i will grow to trust him completely. but there will be no commitment prior to finding that trust. and i am in absolutely no hurry anyway.

because you see where it got me? wasted time, and a lot of crying.

you were so not worth it at all.


so here's to missing out on a great girl, man, because you totally did.

What I think I've always wanted (and needed)

I know it's unfair. I know it's selfish. But being cooped up in my bedroom, angst-ridden and mad as fuck, crying periodically for whatever reason (although today is the first time in a while, to be honest), has got me thinking about whatever it is I've always desired, and as it turns out this thing is more than just a want, it's a need. And as irrational as it may be, and as cliche as this will sound, I will write of it anyway. I don't feel like writing a disclaimer acknowledging my stupidity and selfishness for putting this out on the internet this time, because we all know it, and I need to say something. Because I don't think anyone's listening anyway.

What I think I've always wanted, it's just somebody who'd be there completely. Someone who would comfort me regardless of the night or circumstance, and call me out on my mistakes in a way that didn't berate me. Someone who wouldn't sway in the face of a storm. Reliable, honest, loyal, and most of all, steadfast.

I think to be steadfast has to be the most valuable trait I've never found in its entirety. It means to be unflinchingly present, even if it's not physically. A steadfast friend will never leave unless for their own good they feel forced to. And I would do my best not to push them away---and if they began to feel an unwelcome shove, I'd want more than anything for them to tell me.

But by the same token, if I'm crying over something I can't quite put a name to, or just need to be held without a word and I don't want to say why, then that person would be there.

I just need someone to tell me it's all going to be okay, even if they know I'm wrong.

I'd only give them the same.

DEATH OF A TELEMARKETER

First of all, I'd like to address that when your parents, teachers, and guidance counselors all told you that with a positive attitude, life could be peachy always, it was a blatant lie. It went like this:
I took up a job as a telemarketer on July 13th. About twelve cumulative hours later, I quit. Why, you might ask? Because it's telemarketing, you douche bag. And if you ever want your self esteem systematically punched in the lungs, then by all means, take up a job as a telemarketer. I've realized that spending four hours a day on the phone with people who probably (no, definitely) hate you was never, ever going to be worth the $7.15 earned hourly for doing so.
I just wanted to share this pearl of wisdom with you: telemarketing, no matter how uppity of an attitude you might be harboring, isn't peachy. Or at least it wasn't for me. And I felt the need to bark about it here. Thank you and good night.

I felt life and love and hope infest in my bones

So, life really does go on.

I quit my job.
I like someone and he likes me too (this fact, I think, makes everything brighter)
There's leftover Pizza Hut in the fridge downstairs.
I'm learning how to drive.
I have tons of old clothes to sell for some cash at The Attic sometime soon, so I'll be able to buy a nice summer dress and save the rest for future mini-investments here and there.


And frankly, there is little else I can really ask for right now.
I'm happy.

The Runaway

What makes you think I'm enjoyin' being led to the flood?
We got another thing comin' undone.
And it's takin' us over.

ready to go

These are times that can't be weathered and
we have never been back there since then

Okay. I was wrong. It was a day where something big went wrong.

Where everything went wrong.

And now I'm crying again.


I'm so fucking stupid.

today was either

a day where nothing went wrong

or a day where something big went wrong.

my hopes lie with the first one. because although i'm not going to be stupid, i don't want to continue being this heartbroken girl.


at any rate, this is life, and i'm probably wrong. my hopes are not high.

oh hey

God bless the Germans.


Oh lord.

lucky you

Every time you get a drink
And every time you go to asleep
Are those dreams inside you head
Is there sunlight on your bed
And every time you're driving home
Way outside your safety zone
Wherever you will ever be
You're never getting rid of me

You own me
There's nothing you can do
You own me

You coulda made a safer bet
But what you break is what you get
You wake up in the bed you make
I think you made a big mistake

You own me
There's nothing you can do
You own me
You own me
Lucky you

You own me
There's nothing you can do

You clean yourself to meet
The man who isn't me
You're putting on a shirt
A shirt i'll never see
The letter's in your coat
But no one's in your head
Cause you're too smart to remember
You're too smart
Lucky you

I fucking hate people

not too toot my own horn, but here we go:
i garner attention from males at times.
and the lack of tact coming from these people is REMARKABLE.
i hate how a conversation that begins with a friendly "hey what's up?" quickly changes into one asking for a dinner date acting like we've known each other for years (this male in question also happens to have a girlfriend? honorable, right?).
i hate how a conversation that begins with "you're from california, right?" makes the transition into "hello cutest girl in the world!" I told him I liked women.
it didn't make much of a dent in his ridiculous forwardness.
and i REALLY hate how a conversation that begins with "how's the boy?" VERY SWIFTLY turns to, "then i can finally take you out to dinner like i've been asking for all this time!"
believe me, i recognize how arrogant this all sounds.
and i know how some of you (if anybody reads this black hole of a blog) are scoffing, "well what kind of bitch doesn't appreciate that?"
it's that i appreciate kids with RESPECT.
respect for their girlfriends (when applicable), for their friends, oh, and for people they just started talking to.
it's just, when i say i want a friend, i want a friend. just a friend.
i don't want a fucking boyfriend. i don't want a fuck buddy, i don't want any of that bullshit.
i just want folks i can just call up and hang out with, without any weird tension.
but that's too fucking difficult to ask for, right?

uuuuughhh!!!

i really miss what really did exist

i can remember the first time that you came to pick me up for our first date or whatever and holy fuck it's hard to think of you without tearing up.

god why is this so difficult

asdlk

I think it's the most inspired thing I've ever written but I can't even look at it. Probably for that reason. I'll hand it to my writer friends and see what they have to say. And I'll probably publish it anonymously in my webzine for the first issue. But I won't read it over again. It's weird.

I wish it were a simple injury---so simple that you might look down at the injury and tell me my problems were to heal on their own. And you'd mean it. And you'd hold me for a second (because it would never be much more than that, and I had always known so much) and it would comfort me and you would send me to sleep and advise me to dream with the angels. Dream with all the angels in that bright blue infinite painted with pearl clouds sky where they live. That same sky in which I have replaced wonder with doubt. I'd walk down the hall and I'd do as you say and the next day would be a brand new day, after I lay me to rest. A temporary but beautiful rest. A rest of forgetfulness. A rest of passing, of peace, that I could always turn to. 'Stead of this pain.

Oh, fever dream, I feel ill.

Driver, surprise me.

Summer's here. School is out. And with this new beginning of sorts, we must abandon the old. Out with that old pain. In with something new. Something better. Anything would be an improvement.


I need to block you from my brain. I need to stop periodically facebook searching your name just to look at the 250 pixel by 250 pixel thumbnail of you. I know how pathetic it sounds; because it is. I need to stop hurting. And I haven't.

I'm terrified of running into you in public. Or seeing you. I don't want to see you. I don't think I could.

Today I realized something very important. I've decided that the day I forget what it was like to be held by you, touched by you, kissed, and cared for by you will be the day I forget you. And the day I forget that feeling will be the day I can at last move on completely.

Until then, I do what I can to cloud the memory. To replace that feeling with something else... something with far less substance but something nonetheless and it's absolutely all that I have.

I sold the shirts you gave me at a secondhand shop---even the NOFX one I wore so much because it reminded me of you the most. As for the hoodie you borrowed once, I don't wear it. I deleted your mix from my list of playlists and changed the album names from that mix so that I would never see your name---although to be honest I wouldn't dare play those songs anyway.

How stupid it is. Isn't it trivial? It's simple to say so---I mean, I am being completely naive right now anyway. I sound like an angsty, sad-as-balls, stalker ex-girlfriend.

When really I'm just heartbroken and I'm fixing it the best I can. For me. Because I can't deal with this any fucking more.

"The months they don't matter, it's the days I can't take."

Night

Going to hit the sack so I can continue reading a book of plays I was lent. Stone Cold Dead Serious is the name of the compilation as well as the first play in the book, and they're all by Adam Rapp, brother to Anthony Rapp of Rent fame.

I want to relax. I took a nice nap today, but it's not enough.
Yoga tomorrow.

There's this small part of me that kind of wants to start exercising. Like, if I have nothing to do, I'll go on the elliptical downstairs. It may not seem like fun. And it most certainly will not be. But it's something, right?

Or at least I'll ride my bike, a lot.

anyways. night.

What a weekend.

First off, I don't think I could sensibly explain in a way where people would understand what seeing The National on Friday meant to me. It was fucking mindblowing. Phenomenal. Favorite show, best show, I've ever been to. And although I haven't been to many, it was the kind of show where you can just flat out be certain of, it was so great. I got Aaron's pick at the end of their set before their encore, which was wonderful. They played my favorite song, All The Wine. And although Shannon didn't want to wait around to meet them (oh agony!!!) and I didn't have the money to get a shirt (three bucks too short!!!!) I left with this incredible sense of "Wow, that didn't just happen, now did it?"
So now I'm ripping Mp3s off of Youtube from the show, and I'm still in awe.
All the trouble I went through to get to this show, you have no idea.
And then it all happened and it was so worth it and how I want to relive it, you have no understanding.
*sigh*

Last night I fell in love without you.
I waved goodbye to that heart of mine
Beating solo on your lawn

Every aching wound will cauterize and bruise
In memory of what we used to call in love
And only time will tell if violins will swell
In memory of what we used to call in love
We used to call it love

Last night I fell in love without you
The coup-de-grace that set me off
Would've made for decent fiction

Every aching wound will cauterize and bruise
In memory of what we used to call in love
And only time will tell if violins will swell
In memory of what we used to call in love
We used to call it...

Last night I fell in love without you
The stars at night aren't as big and bright
As you make them out to be

And every aching wound will cauterize and bruise
In memory of what we used to call in love
And only time will tell if violins will swell
In memory of what we used to call in love
In memory of when we used to call it love

Update

The National is like, three days away. Plans to leave in the morning and skip school were raped in the bum so we're going to leave after third period (screw choir, I'm going to put the nix on that) and get our asses to Philly. I can't wait.

As for other news...
I'm happy. So happy. So, so, so very happy. Let's just say the most wonderful things happen at the most unexpected times.

I think that I

deleted all the pictures I had of either us or just you. Cleared out the recycle bin, too, so they're officially lost someplace in cyberspace.
Where they belong now.

ten days away? i think?

the show in philly is only ten days away or eleven days or something like that.
johno's mad at me, who knows why
i may be dragged to campage this weekend (ugh) and my ipod is dying so yeah... i wouldn't mind it so much if my ipod were in good condition but it's half non-functional.
so im starting an ipod fund. feel free to donate, guys.

im going to try getting to bed at a good hour tonight. so ima shower and then get on that.

night

don't be a nightingale

Here's where I begin to forget you.

fingers crossed!

big hopes for tomorrow night, i really really really hope it all works out!!!!
great night of cult film and maybe some mini chimis at perkins?


fingers crossed, guys :D

see yaaaa

I remember what you said.

I have wasted years of my life
Agonizing up at the fires
It started when I thought that to be strong you must be flame retardant
And now to dress the wounds cause into question
How authentic they are
There is always someone criticizing me
She just likes paying hospital
Lying in my bed
I remember what you said
There's no such thing as accidents

5:44

passed my grad project, so i officially have no big projects to think about for the rest of the year. hallelujah!


i'm gonna go find something to do now.




p.s. i still only think of you.

can't wait for

the weekend. i hope friday works out, i've got a pretty cool group of folks going to see cannibal holocaust if all goes well.
i finally put those paintings up, and i'm about to clean up my room a bit before i finish my grad project index cards (er, start them...). i shouldve brought my damn notebook home this weekend for history... but i think this test should be pretty easy... so i shan't worry too much.
today was a good day. i gardened with my mom all day for the most part, and i made her a card. i hope she had a good momma's day.
did you know that if the average momma got paid for all the work at home she does, she'd get paid 122,000 dollas a year? if only, if only. she needs some more respect, ya know?
anyhoos. i have my grad project tomorrow, and then wednesday i'm volunteering at the special olympics at school, and right after school i'm going to brere's house for a readthrough of his new screenplay, so my hopes are that this week passes by a little quicker than the past two.
my allergies are killing me!
one week closer to seeing the national.
oh my gah.
well, good night.


p.s. still thinking of you

back to square one

i hope you know that i would do anything in the world to have you back in my life.

you're funny.

you're depressed all of the fucking time, and i deal with your shit although it agitated the hell out of me half the time.
you know i have my bad days, and today is one of them. so thanks a lot for your understanding.

and i think its DISGUSTING when you burp.

A new leaf?

Thanks to my mother and her insensitive approach to honesty I'm realizing that I need to stop begging people to hang out with me because it doesn't work and doesn't get me anywhere.
I'm sick of feeling like I've got nothing to look forward to because people leave me hanging all the time.
I feel like absolute shit and I cried a lot today and I think I want to kidnap Chestuh the beagle and have him sleep in muh bed tonight. Hopefully my allergies don't explode.

I close my eyes, thought I was lost but I was stranded

I'm listening to Something Corporate, about to get my butt off of here because I have some studying to do for a biology test tomorrow I didn't review my shit for so... yes.
This week has been too long. At least tomorrow's Friday... I just want to go do something Friday night.
I took a nap earlier so its safe to say I'll be up a while longer working on science stuff. So that's a good time.
I really think District 9 looks like a really fucking cool movie.
Chester the cutieface is barking at skunks or something.
Norman the fish is hiding behind his squid.
And I'm braindead, as you can very likely tell.

Night, folks. I need to get to sleep as soon as I cram my brain with biology.
OH SHIT I FORGOT I HAVE TO TYPE UP A FREAKING OUTLINE FOR PUBLIC SPEAKING

ahhhh damnit

nighth1!!!!

Gnyuk!

I still profess, the goldfish's name is Norman and that's where it ends. Roberto, I don't care if you don't like the name, because it's the most suitable name for a goldfish that there ever was. Ever. Especially this one, who poops little sausages and makes that funny face all the time (lord knows why I find it so interesting).

So, it's Norman. El Fin.

(OH MY GOD PUN! hehehe)

Still working on coming up with a good name for the webzine, it's between like, Dirty Mangos, My Dog's Breakfast, Mickey Bliss, Geriatric Angst (I'm sorry man, but I haven't let go of that damn name)... and probably something else. I was working on a list during Bio deux so... yeah. Good times.

Night folks!

Webzine

It's this notion I have that I really want to do something with my spare time; something productive and meaningful that could very well grow to be something really damn cool. My idea was originally to start a print-zine; hard copies Xeroxed and stapled by hand and distributed by hand. This is all in the spirit of what a zine really initially was: an independently produced and distributed work. However, that isn't as cheap, easy or eco-friendly as I was really going for so now I'm settled on working on a Webzine on Blogspot; basically all the frills of a zine but more user-friendly, easier to manage, can be updated more often, is more with the times of a technology-fueled world...and of course takes a hell of a lot less paper (let's say, none) and is free to do. With a good community behind it we could get a lot of weekly or bi-weekly or read-it-as-often-or-not-as-they'd-like readers. That'd be swell, huh?
So first off, I need to come up with a name. It's got to be memorable. Short and memorable, and random. I can't get tired of it because I've got to make it into a permanent URL and everything so... as soon as the name business is out of the way I'm free to work on as many graphics as I would like for the site's aesthetics (and create the site to begin with). I've collected a lot of content folks have sent it already, but I want more, and after everything's set up I can start working on an actual "issue" so to speak. I need to talk to some chaps about possible columns or rants. It's all about content; the site could look as fancy as a purple goat and it still wouldn't mean shit if the content's complete shit.
So that's the plan:

1. come up with a name/create site
2. design design design
3. work on issue
4. let the world know!

My hopes are that this could actually go somewhere. So I'm going to go shower and then work more on step one so that I can get this shit going.

Night folks

Church on White

But all you really wanted
Was everything
Plus everything
And the truth
I only poured you
Half a line

My weekend.

Friday was okay.
Saturday was miserable.
Sunday was okay.

Mostly, I find myself asking why it's impossible to actually have fun weekends anymore.
I realize it's because that's all in the past, whatever, I've got to move on from that.
I'm going to have tons more boring weekends. I sort of can't really expect anything better than that.
I miss having really good nights with really good people. Mostly just him.
I'm missing that feeling I had more and more each day. I need to fucking move on.
But I'm not sure I entirely want to.

Whatever.

Miserable day.

Guess what I'm done
Writing your book
The ending got twisted around
But for all the hell that it took
The electrical wires
They'll hum in the walls
In the room that I rent now without you



There's an acting workshop tomorrow afternoon I kinda sorta hope I can get to.
So Idk.

Self-Preservation

This evening I will:

• work on some mix cds for my friends.
• read
• write
  
• detach myself from this stupid thing because i'm sick of being like the kind of people i hate, I.E. "Look at meeeee!" on Twitter.

I'm re-examining my self-worth realizing that there is so much more there I need to cultivate.
Good night.

the resolution?

I've got to get my shit in perspective and keep it there. I need to go with wherever the wind takes me. To wait around is to guarantee myself nothing but more hurt, and I'm not going to do that to myself.

I know nothing is finite, but from here on out I want to work on being okay.


Is that okay?

10:58

I'm not living, I'm just killing time.

About Today

so May 29th is over a month away and I am so unbelievably anxious for that day to come that it's killing me. i get to skip school that day (mama's letting me :D) with friends to go to philly, to see The National at the electric factory (my favorite band, mind you!). so i'm pretty sure, under the assumption that i will not be mugged and/or hit with a public bus, there is absolutely nothing that could taint that day's inherent awesomeness, i tell you. it's bound to be the day that makes my year and the more i think about it (which keeps happening) the more eager i become and it's driving me off the wall with excitement.
at any rate, to get off that subject before i go absolutely insane, friday is finally coming along tomorrow and i am so ready for this school week to be over. as far as i know, i'll be going to the mall with my mother on saturday (fringe sandals? new bra? aiii??!), and tomorrow after school i'm hanging out with mike. not sure what we're going to be doing. probably eat Chinese (we always do), maybe watch a movie... i hear through the grapevine, though, that it's to be a beautiful day and i think we should take advantage of such pleasant weather and go someplace. i couldn't tell you where, to be honest, but someplace nice. doesn't have to be far. doesn't have to be special, or fancy. just someplace where i can watch the sky or feel the breeze and not want to go inside.
i think i'm going to make it a point to have an amazing friday.
so, to anybody wasting their time reading this, happy friday. even if it's only thursday.

sajkdsalkjdlka

i don't know what to say? my school week has been lasting way too long.
please let this weekend be okay.

What, me worry?

So I discovered Annie Clark, this wonderful musician who goes by the name of St. Vincent. She's truly lovely... that classically beautiful voice, her writing, everything so far is just lovely!
My iPod died the other day. It was terrible. But Bobster fixed it, and thus far we believe that its life will be prolonged! A little bit, at least, and I've got my fingers crossed.
I'm pretty tired. I went to Perkins after the mock show (which went ridiculously well! my voice died a little at the end of I Kissed a Girl but who the fuck cares? ha) with a few people, listened to a boring-as-balls, hour long conversation concerning prom (I guess I'm just not interested?), ate half a sandwich and some mini-chimis which just might be the best appetizer ever.
I was bummed out on the way home though, because as tired as I was, it sucks to have to go home, you know? I don't do much so for my mom to let me go out to eat so late was really kind of a big deal for me. I like that kind of freedom.
At any rate, by the time I got home it was about 12:30 a.m. and I wasn't feeling too well. My tummy was kind of hurting a bit, but the stars were so beautiful and I didn't want to go upstairs and sleep just yet. So we walked around my driveway and watched the stars and had conversations and although it all didn't last longer than 45 minutes, I'd imagine, it was really lovely. We sat on the concrete bench on my patio and talked about anything we thought to say.
I don't have nights like that, where my rents are asleep and I'm just going off of how I feel. I know how lame that is to say, but really, it means something.
I just don't have nights like these. But it made coming home okay.

Break was good

really good.

I'm hoping these new plans will actually be something I can look forward to. For once.

...instead of hope for and have said hopes crushed in the process of waiting for said plans to come true.


*sigh*

easter

I'm feeling alright. I'm going to have a good day. I need to shower and then I'm gonna watch Casablanca.

Not doing anything for Easter specifically (we're all heathens here), but that's okay with me.

it's too late for me to still be functioning.

I've got a long way to go


getting further away











sleep NOW

another wonderful day :D

i went shopping with my mum today, we got along famously and i got a few nice things!
i got a really pretty dress and a bathing suit, all cheaply :D i like sales.

i wanted to get some plastic beads to make rainbow pride bracelets to give out for free at the prizm prom too but i didnt find what i needed :( anyone willing to take me to A.C. Moore on 611 sometime soon?

anyway. i'm feeling really good right now.
i refuse to be brought down.

I'm glad

to find that there is a silver lining after all. I'm doing the little things I've always wanted to do but put them off because of other "priorities" and overall feel as if I have a little more control over myself and my life. It's kinda nice. I plan on writing a little tonight... I've got all these ideas scattered throughout my days that I think I should finally write down (something I've always procrastinated with to the point where it's unreasonable to even try recalling these same ideas).
I had a really nice time at yoga tonight, too.
I'm reading a lot more than usual, too, which I adore. I just finished The Rum Diary and now I'm reading Tristessa, my first piece by Kerouac (I figured I had to experience him someday) and it is indeed beautiful.
I hope to see and learn new things tomorrow.
Say no to the things that will damage me, accept the things that will cultivate me.
I'm learning how to live with myself a little more comfortably. Er, working on it.

fuck it

i hate girls with no decency and i hate guys with no respect. but mostly i hate you scene fuckers.


hipsters included



...dicks

what i need

to focus my energies elsewhere, i can't live each day feeling this way.

just, no

i'm listening to joy division, its a sunday night, i should be showering but i have way too fucking much on my mind to get off my ass so i'll write about it instead.
i have no fucking integrity, or willpower, or self respect by any stretch of the word and i don't know what to do with myself anymore, it's just pathetic. i dont know how to deal with anything anymore.
god and there's just so much pent up frustration and anger with myself and i trust so few people it kills me to admit it. and fuck, what does someone like me do in a situation like this? surround oneself with "positive energy?" listen to radio disney? what the fuck, man? see my guidance counselor?

you can feed me all that bullshit, you can suggest a therapist, but what i really would like is a bottle of rum and a shoulder to cry on. let me deal with what's leftover in the morning, let me deal with the mess when the aftermath comes knocking at my door, just let me forget everything for the time being and ill be okay. or, let things go back to the way they were.
but that isn't the viable option so i'll stick with what i can get and waste away until then

a lack of color

And when i see you
I really see you upside down
But my brain knows better
It picks you up and turns you around
Turns you around, turns you around

If you feel discouraged
That there's a lack of color here
Please don't worry lover
It's really bursting at the seams
Absorbing everything
The spectrum's a to z

This is fact not fiction
For the first time in years
And all the girls in every girlie magazine
Can't make me feel any less alone
I'm reaching for the phone

To call at 7:03 and on your machine I slur a plea for you to come home
But i know it's too late
I should have given you a reason to stay
Given you a reason to stay

This is fact not fiction
For the first time in years

and by the way

the saturday and sunday performances made all the difference... i felt such a rush on those two evenings. so i guess i'm not clinically depressed or growing tired of my passions after all :D

what a reason to celebrate



p.s. i think i'm going to try this newfangled thing called integrity with a dash of self-preservation
sound good? thought so. let's see how well i do.

update

i'm attempting to catch up on months worth of lost sleep. it feels kind of nice to just be able to nap upon home arrival and i don't have anything important to do. it's fucking fantastic to know that i can finally place sleep at the top of my to do list. other priorities include school related things, and occupying my weekends with good times and giving the beagle lots of belly rubs.
and tomorrow it looks as though i'm going to be eating some rainbow buffet which, frankly, makes my immediate future seem that much brighter.
this is not to say everything is fine and dandy, because there are too many moments to count where i can't avoid the thought of him and the ache that comes with missing him but i've just got to keep swimming, so to speak.
at any rate, things are okay lately. they're better. then again, very few things are worse than the way things have been in the not so distant past. so i'm thankful. it's the best i can do for now and i'm okay with that

i don't want to be here

I think that it's a really bad sign when you stand up in front of a crowd doing your bows and you feel absolutely completely numb.
So it's either theater is getting boring or I'm getting to be seriously depressed.



And judging by the likes of the rest of my life I don't think it's that theater is giving me a problem

*sigh*

it went well today. much better than i had expected... because i didn't want to get disappointed so i expected the very worst.
and i wondered, could this mean something?
and then i realize, shit, i've got a musical this weekend; i'm sick and i'm not focused. i need to get my shit together and my brain where it needs to be in order to pull this off.


no use in petty dreaming. not right now... i'll keep my hopes in my heart but this weekend i need to work and i'm petrified.

all i need is

you

i;m going to

write up a list of priorities


in the coming weeks where i will have nothing to do...

1. i want to finally start learning how to play guitar
2. i will exercise
3. i will eat better and less
4. focus on my schoolwork
5. have more of a social life
6. try to knit?
7. write. perhaps write a short story? just keep writing



i need to keep my brain occupied to help dull the ache.

dsajksdajkls

i will not let this kill me
i will not let this kill me
i will not let this kill me
i will be okay, i will continue living, if he can, then i can
i was honest, i came clean, i said what needed to be said and while that is not to say that i did not fuck up, it does say something.
i will not let this kill me.



here's to more nights like last night where i can forget what he looks like
here's to more nights like last night where i can forget who i am
here's to more nights like last night where i can forget the past mistakes i've made and make room for something beautiful.



i will not let this kill me.

trying to keep it all together

i had the most terrible dream last night; that he missed me. but the part that was terrible was waking up and realizing that it wasn't real.
but i am doing everything in my power to keep it together. i don't listen to songs that force me to think of him. i did a few times these last few days and i do not want to feel that kind of pain, i really don't.
so while most things remind me of him, i try to turn my mind away.
i've got to keep swimming.

hanging by a string

i can't make this any less cliche than it's going to sound but i feel as if writing something might help so that i can vent but all in all i find that i must continue breathing and continue living nevertheless

although to be completely frank i can't see myself wanting to do either one of those things as of late. i feel myself falling apart completely and hating myself.

i dont think im mentally up for performing on saturday but my hopes are that if i can keep it all together it'll be good for me. maybe i'll get a good amount of applause and how cool would it be if i won? i'm not expecting it... but for a brief moment it's almost a glimmer of hope for just learning how to function again

i need to learn how to function again. to function without him. to function knowing that there is no chance of reunion, no chance of making anything back to the way that it was.
god for the first fucking time in my short life i have realized more than ever a lesson that i will never, ever forget.
i just want to fall asleep and never wake up. at least not for a long time

fddsdfsfsd

what is there to fucking do
i hate myself so fucking much
i mess this up, there's nothing i can do

doing one's thang :D

eating a slice of pizza, uploading my first singage/peter playing guitarage video to youtube (hopefully people aren't too mean, i know it isn't that great!), feeling mucho mejor compared to last night (fuck, not doing that again anytime, ever). i had a really good day with peter.
he really is this fucking incredible guy. he makes me laugh so much. hell, he mooned me when we were riding bikes today. who does that?! it was almost charming (almost being the operative word). when he holds me it feels SO right. like there isn't a single thing in the world that could go wrong because i'm with him. i feel safe, i feel wonderful, i feel for the very first time in a long time that every little piece has fallen into place. of course, not without obstacles, but they've fallen into place nonetheless. i am so, so, so, so happy.
how in the gosh durn heck did i score someone like him??! he's so great! he respects me and treats me right and makes me giggle and i absolutely love it when he gets worked up about something, anything... he scares the shit out of me when we're driving sometimes because he'll take his hands off the wheel and proceed to drive with his knees. and somehow, it's okay with me because it's him.
there isn't a soul in the world that makes me feel the way that he does. <3

If only, if only.

I would've stayed up all night with Emily and a bottle of sake instead.

Cold Girl Fever

I am completely and utterly beat. My eyelids feel heavy, and when I blink my eyes feel more at home---because they're closed. Thing is, I still have this ridiculous DNA doodling homework. Or something (it makes ZERO sense to me), and some math... and regardless of how I feel right now (and I feel as if my body cannot function) I know for sure that I'm not going to fall asleep at a decent hour. I know how it goes: I'll sit here doing nothing for another hour. I'll take a shower. I'll sit here some more. I might touch my homework (or I might just do nothing for a while longer and do my homework tomorrow morning at school). I may sit by the phone, wishing for a phone call. But I can't expect it. I can't expect anything much; but I can be sure that come tomorrow, I will be paralyzed with exhaustion. And it sucks. Major ass.
I have such bad habits. I need to break them.
Oh my goooooooooooooodneeeessssssssss I need sleep!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


hopefully I'll actually do something about it this time?

mistaken for strangers

oh you wouldn't want an angel watching over
surprise, surprise they wouldn't wanna watch
another uninnocent, elegant fall into the unmagnificent lives of adults

I think you're all chimpanzees.

The cartoon can be found here: http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/nationworld/chi-talk-new-york-post-cartoonfeb19,0,3058822.story

So, here's the deal: The New York Post published a political cartoon depicting two police officers shooting a chimpanzee dead, alluding to the chimpanzee-ripping-off-face business from this week. Upon this sight, one of the officers says, "They'll have to find someone else to write the next stimulus bill."

Of course, many people, especially folks like Reverend Al Sharpton, are denouncing the comic, calling it a blatantly racist attack on President Barack Obama. There are some who are even going as far as boycotting the Post for publishing what they view as a travesty.

Do you remember this thing called the First Amendment? I'm pretty sure it mentioned this right to free speech and freedom of the press. Or something like that. I can't be sure, because I'm afraid this definition has lost its potency throughout the years, considering how easily offended folks are these days. So the artist who doodled this for the Post is perfectly in his rights to, well, doodle as he fancies, regardless of however distasteful his doodle might be.
This First Amendment thing also promises the right to petition or assemble as a group for a cause, and frankly, those driven mad by the measly cartoon are also in their rights to complain until the cows come home.

Too bad these protestors (black and white, by the way, before I get blasted for this one, too) are coming off as self righteous opportunists looking for a reason to lash out against an artist who might very well not have had any racial motivation to begin with.
Too bad these protestors aren't demonstrating against something that actually matters a little bit more than a cartoon.
Too bad these protestors aren't realizing that you don't fight racism by shutting down a cartoonist and boycotting a newspaper. You fight intolerance by being a better person yourself, to other people. You won't change minds by getting an artist fired (which, as of yet, hasn't happened and I am HAPPY that it hasn't).

Yes, the cartoon may or may not be symbolic of a struggle that is hundreds of years old, but come on. CHOOSE YOUR BATTLES. Waste your energy over something else, something truly worth believing in, or fighting for.

George Dubya, the genius that he is, has been drawn COUNTLESS TIMES as a chimp. And why? Because he actually looks like one. No outrage here.

Condi Baby has been drawn as Aunt Jemima, the freaking syrup woman, as well. No outrage here, either.


But at least this controversial cartoon has gotten people talking.
The funny thing is, the more people bitch about the chimp comic, the more people see it.
So kudos for getting something you despise so much attention.


Ciao.

I wish I could just

put a big X through that last post. In fact, I'll just delete it.
So Valentine's Day was nice. Spent it with Peter. He's a sweetheart.
Hopefully one of these days he'll ask me to be his girlfriend. I'd like to let the world know, you know?
I have little or nothing else to say
see ya

Every inch of me is bruised, bruised.

I don't even know what to write. I set out to write something tonight that would have some kind of profound meaning for me behind it but I guess I'm at a loss of inspiration. I don't feel like recalling (at length, at the least) the thoughts, the scents, the hugs, the feelings, the kisses, the all-nighters, the movies, the mellow lighting, the broken hearts, the tears, the cozy beds, the warmth and the cold of last year.
All the things I told myself I'd stop missing sooner or later, the things I have stopped missing, the things that I surely still do.


I guess I screwed up by starting this thing because I'm going to make myself absolutely miserable.

So this is the new year

and I don't feel any different


Why do we celebrate the new year exactly, anyway? Is it a celebration of surviving another year without blowing ourselves up? Without crying ourselves to death, getting ditched by all our friends, overdosing, losing our sanity, getting into a serious car accident? Is it about the hope that in the coming year, we won't lose any limbs, or that perhaps we might finally fall head over heels, madly in love? Is it about the faith we hope doesn't get lost in the complicated mess that life becomes when things get rough? Is it the hope that because it's a new year, we'll at last have the willpower to lose those unnecessary pounds? Is it every single hope and dream of every single human being?
I think it's all of these things, not to mention about a thousand more.
To be honest I really thought the New Year must be another super narcissistic holiday, celebrated on behalf of the human race, congratulating us on not bringing forth a premature apocalypse but hey, that's me being a cynical bitch. I think writing this has made me realize that unlike birthdays, which serve no real purpose, and unlike President's Day, which nobody actually genuinely cares about anyway, the New Year is symbolic of the entire world coming together with little dreams for each smiling face and each pair of glazed, drunken eyes at midnight. It's about the resolutions that we probably won't keep. But it's also about the promises we hold our wills to. It's about remembering that there's somebody there besides you. It's about getting drunk off your ass and hitting on every Canadian guy around. It's about your unforgettable student trips. It's about the role you never thought you'd get, the lesson you never would've guessed you'd learn, every boy you end up kissing even though you promised yourself you wouldn't, it's about every drink you always told yourself you'd stay away from, every best friend you lost, every value that changed and every belief that stayed the same, every tear that fell and every laugh shared. It's about everything that did and didn't happen. It's about the friends you never could have imagined that you'd make. The friends you didn't know you'd keep. The people who suddenly mean the most. It's about everything that changed and everything that stayed the same. It's about taking what you learned and bringing it into 2009.
And it's also about a clean slate, a second chance. Or, a third or fourth if two's not your lucky number. It's about every little thing you tell yourself on New Year's Eve you'll change, or fix. It's about the person you promise yourself you'll become, and the person you actually end up being.
"It's one year closer to your death," to the utter pessimists, but it doesn't mean that to me. It's one year passed, a new one beginning.
It's making all of the mistakes you never planned on, and making all the right turns you'd hoped you'd make.
It's the hope that on this new year, things will turn out for the very best. And by the eve of the next, it's the hope that we didn't screw ourselves over completely that year. It's the hope we learned something. Some of that hope's bound to be recycled from the year before, because nothing's perfect. Some of those hopes are bound to be new. Where they might take us is a different story. But let's not look that far into the future, because there's a year in the making---in the now--- and we need to take that in.

"Drop the last year into the silent limbo of the past. Let it go, for it was imperfect, and thank God that it can go."-Brooks Atkinson

Anthem of the Year

"The Resolution" by Jack's Mannequin

There's a lot that I don't know
There's a lot that I'm still learning
But I think I'm letting go
To find my body is still burning
And you hold me down
And you got me living in the past
Come on and pick me up
Somebody clear the wreckage from the blast

And I'm alive
And I don't need a witness
To know that I survived
I'm not looking for forgiveness
I just need light
I need light in the dark as I search for the resolution

And the bars are finally closed
So I try living in the moment
'Til the moment it just froze
And I felt sick and so alone
I can hear the sound
Of your voice still ringing in my ear
I'm going underground
But you'll find me anywhere I feel

That I'm alive
And I don't need a witness
To know that I survived
I'm not looking for forgiveness
I just need light
I need light in the dark as I search for the resolution
I need light in the dark as I search for the resolution

You hold me down
You hold me down
I'm alive
And I don't need a witness
To know that I survived
I'm not looking for forgiveness

I'm alive
And I don't need a witness
To know that I survived
I'm not looking for forgiveness
I just need light
I need light in the dark as I search for the resolution
I need light in the dark as I search for the resolution
I need light, I need light