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.