December the Thirty-First of Two Thousand and Ten

'Tired souls wander throughout time.
Three hundred days
and sixty-five nights,
restlessly awaits change.
Time has gone no where that it has not wandered.
Thus, nothing is lost.

One event and change.
Quickly, movement hurts opinions.
Everyone is someone,
but individuals are all the same.
Pain and desperation are friends,
but the best are hate and love.

The words insisted have pestered us,
what beliefs held are sacred.
While everything could be thrown
like knives into a target board.
No compromise is the light,
a tunnel only one may pass through.

The lectures are unnecessary.
Why is the child told about predators,
when she is one who met one already?
She hasn't conquered her incident,
but the speeches about dangers
will only slow the progress.

The year passing
expectations arise and fall.
Hope conquers all.
Wishes are known.
Resolutions lead us forward.
The future is made by aspirations,
and failure.'

November the Twenty-Seventh of Two Thousand and Ten

There are only four days until he leaves.

I won the second poker game. It wasn't very likely, and I wasn't counting on it, but it all works out to my favor. Except for those two girls. But, this is high school drama and if those bitches want to fuck with me, they can just come and try. And Dear God, she looks so ugly with her bitch face. And I was there, ready to give her an honest, wholesome chance. I'm very shy with girls (especially new people) and she just wrote me off. Well, fine. But trust me, girl, you did not make any friends be a clammed-up bitch.

It's weird. I think I just get a little defensive about it because I know that he liked her. She's known him for forever, and he would never have been with me if she was waiting for him. However, she has no hope now. Yet, there is this ever present jealousy of what they shared and what could have been for them. And how, maybe, if he got too drunk (or something) she could win him back. No matter how much I don't like being jealous, it just happens. And I worry. I don't want to lose him.

I don't know what to say. TO either of you. The transition has come, and I have my voice now. I am ready to use it.
You won't push me down.

'Many memories create a dream,
many hopes create it.
What we remember is really what we've forgotten.
And, if you forget me,
will you remember what we have?'

December the Twenty-Fifth of Two Thousand and Ten

Dear Douglas Adams, I haven't called NASA yet. But, I'm pretty sure I will. And the White House, at that. What's more is that I hope you actually gave me their numbers and I then have to pay a giant bill for the phone. Because I have hope for you, and your book.

You know, world, I worry a lot about her. In only five months, we'll both be walking away from a place where we are supported and into the unknown. However, I'm walking away into some sort of security with people and money. She walks away with some fucked up idea of life will be without a driver's permit or money that is accessible. But, that's not the only reason I worry. She isn't as innocent as she acts, world. There is some reason why everyone hates her, but if you're not on her side, then obviously you're completely against her. If you betray her once, she attacks with no regrets. She did it recently. But seriously, there's something wrong with her logic. She won't let it go. And that's what worries me.

I'm stuck in a debate. Between logic/reason and want. I know that my major will be psychology. However, I don't know what I want to minor in. Most likely, music. I think. But it would be more practical to minor in CJ. But, yet, it might be even more practical to minor in pre-med. However, you can't really minor in medicine and get any credit for it; thus, double major. So, I'll take a double major between psychology and medicine with a minor in CJ and some extra music classes for keeping up.

I hope this isn't my last post of 2010.

'Jolly feelings float throughout the holiday home,
and smiles warm teh air.
A small light brings fragrance to this,
and breaks into heart.'

December the Twentieth of Two Thousand and Ten

I wish I could post on the SA Forums sometimes. I mean, obviously, they kind of know what they're talking about. At one point on Page Two, someone asks why Alex carries around a camera all the time. As far as I've read, they haven't found the answer that is my theory. I, personally, think it's very obvious why Alex was carrying around a camera. Once he realized he was being stalked, I'm sure he wanted evidence. However, it slowly progressed to him realizing that he didn't remember what was happening (and thus, the orange memory pills). But, those weren't working either. So, Alex thinks, now what? Video. Whether it was Slender Man or Alex who distorted the video, it doesn't matter. Video evidence is irreplaceable. Alex, a film student, would know this. So, when he can't remember, he videotapes, because then he will.
You know, months of hard work won't fit into less than twenty videos. Where is the other work? Everything is important, Jay.

I've been feeling a lot of rage lately. At so many people. It's weird, but I know I've been pretty snappy lately. However, as soon as I saw you, I feel into happiness. I'm sure I've been happy in a while. Like, really happy. That satisfaction that is only given and can't just happen (or, at least, that's what I believe). He just makes me feel that way.

I love to hate you.

I don't like it when we fight; I don't like to hurt you, doll. I just want you to know that the silence isn't hatred, it's simple anger. It's not that I don't want to work things out, it's that I don't want to yell at you.

'Dancing through a sky of fish,
swimming through a sea of moons.
Smile spreads across your face.
-Nudge nudge-
You're next to me.'

December the Twelfth of Two Thousand and Ten

WARNING: THIS BLOG WILL BE EXCESSIVELY FLORID AND GARRULOUS!

This is the simple story of six wily characters who all got together one day. Our fighting did not come from a wraith (as Hamlet's did), but from our own zeal. I thought that the climax of this fight had already happened, but I fear that the zenith is yet to come.

We've all had some sort of accretion since the initial incident. (Some have been able to use their growth to aggrandize themselves too). But I could also say that we have all become more fecund, because we now know how to deal with our lives and how to cope and cope fast. We learn. We're learning. However, I doubt I have grown at all. The only thing I have done is tried to keep a fetid lie behind my back. Everyone kind of knows it's there, but they can't say it's mine because there isn't proof. And everyday, my strength flags and I fall. I give in to hatred of secrets and furthermore, myself. But by some scrap of home, something fortuitous, that has left me with all of my friends. But are they really my friends if I can't talk to them? I feel frenetic every time I'm around you, because I want you to know. But I'm still garnering the courage to say.

However, the true fear I possess is of your anger. I want to be your friend, I want to so bad. There are all these endless reasons. I'm very wiling to do anything for you, but I'm afraid of your glower. That one look can tear me down and destroy me inside. Not in a way of gradations, but straight forward-so quick, so fast, and without a second glance. Oh, how I don't want to lose you. But if you become implacable, then that's that. And there I am, without something I never wanted to lose. And this isn't to say that you're irascible, but when something angers you, I know I can lose you easily because your anger is scary. Almost as if it consumes you, but the sanity remains.

She tells me that I', being guile for not telling you. She says that when I tell you, things will be better. But, if they aren't, I guess I'll kind of deserve it. I mean, maybe I just say I'm not lying because I'm trying to weaken my crimes, but anything but complete truth is a lie.

If my dreams were a man, his beard would be hoary from being so old. Each one is the same, but is so wrong all the same. They represent iconoclasts, everything which I shouldn't think. Every idiosyncrasy I've ever felt for you. My dreams are about me being impetuous. I remember being close to you, and wanting to kiss you, but you tell me (in such a nice way) that you aren't comfortable with it, and I back away (guilty and ashamed). Then I wake up in n inexorable panic and the only cure is lying there for a few minutes going, "You're alright; it was just a dream." Then I inter my head in my pillow and wish that all this confusion would go away.

My attraction to many people I could call kinetic (or maybe like magnets), but all the same. But my feelings for you are an anomaly, because they should never have existed. Not to say they still do, but they did. I remember, that everything (originally) was a scam for jealousy. That's why everything was so funny and "ironic" back then. Now, the feelings are gone, and everything is serious, but these dreams harass me like bugs in summer. I feel like I can't ameliorate myself either, but then again, maybe that's because I don't think I have the right. I really don't. I've been a bad person, I don't deserve to be someone saved in the end of the world. I don't deserve any analgesia from the pain I caused myself; that's logical, isn't it? Why do I keep asking? There must be some human confirmation that I need.

You know what I find odd? That people will ask me for advice. Of all people! I complicate my own life, I'm so surprised that anyone thinks I'd have the proper answer for them. Even I know that I have apocryphal things about me when it comes to life circumstances. Obviously, I have no idea what I'm doing. I've been an apostate of so many religions. I've been without friends and turned my back on some of the closest. I've broken so many hearts. I'm sure Satan already has a seat for me.

My ardor for you hasn't left. As I blog my words attenuate me and make me wish to call everything out. I want to feel like I can call myself august, because I want to be able to tell the world. I feel like my who bevy of friends are denied the truth. That's it! I'm tired of trying to bifurcate myself to be pleasing to everyone! WHY CAN'T I JUST BE ME? I'm sad that we can't all agree and still be people just because we don't share the same opinions.

Don't blight the friendship we have. That's not my intention. I'm not going to turn this into some ignorant and blithe situation and just go off into rants about him. No, I'll shut my face if you don't want to hear it. I just want to bolster our friendship, but I don't know if you'll let me. Maybe you'll form a cabal to hate me, but that's alright. I'll understand. If you want to be candid with me, then do it. If I have anything to my favor, at least I understand. I don't need someone with cartography to figure out where something is going. I know when I'm being castigated.

There are caustic people in my life, those who are ready to fire back every day.I know the chauvinists and the feminists, the democrats and republicans, the war hawks and the peaceful doves. What makes their fighting so cloying are the days that feel like they never end, and then the fighting will continue forever. No coffer can contain the riches to hold something that makes these days pass faster. Maybe they're just days that have some sort of collusion, something planned to make life infinitely terrible. Can someone condone me for wishing that life weren't so evil? For having some hope in this world? But I am quite contrite with my behavior, believe it or not.

I thought I was craven, but I'm proving to have some amount of courage.But I am also proving not be as credulous as I thought. Or am I? I've been pretty solid in my beliefs, despite the valid point.Maybe I'm just some curmudgeon, but young. I am not decorous! I refuse to have the decorum in my life! I'm not some societal girl. I have the right to demur about this Earth and dammit, I will!(Maybe I'm deriding myself by doing this.) My dictum is strong. My way of dissemblance is a weak way to avoid what I shouldn't have. I understand that my happiness and yours are a dissonance, but all the same. If you don't want to talk about it, neither do I.

I have my doctrinaires. Others have their droll friends. Others are easily duped. And some are those preppy girls who are so ebullient. All of them make up an eclectic of friends and lifestyles. Their opinions make an overwhelming efficacy for seeing the world. Then, you know what you're missing, or see things you can't see. They don't emulate the world you've already seen, but reveal a brand new one. Their disease isn't one endemic to your life, the home you've already seen. They bring a perspective that shines a light onto the dark room you thought you knew. They engender a new hope and new happiness. That is what makes people so great. Everyone sees through different eyes. Whether the friendship is ephemeral or it lasts forever, it is important. I want us to be the latter.

'Where are the erudite men,
with the dollish girls?
The cacophony of screams
when the effigies lose.
The bodies are desiccated,
but the diatribe continues?
I distend across the waters of your heart,
I am ready to drown.'

December the Eleventh of Two Thouand and Ten

Did you realize that today was twelve, eleven, ten? Unfortunately, we've already passed 9:08:07:06:05:04:03:02:01. That shit is legit.

Onto actual things that mean something. There's something inside of me, something which is impossible to describe. Almost like anticipation, but yet it is not anticipation and more like fear. Which leads me to second the theory that "We have nothing to fear but fear itself." However, I must contradict myself because there's always some logic behind the fear that we all have. Girls have the right to fear stalkers because we grow up on the stories of how weak we are and the creepers in this world. Men are afraid of disapproval (most often) because men are supposed to be proud and masculine, but if they falter from it, they fear the worst. We all have something to fear, but the fear itself makes it worse, so to speak.

I know it seems like I'm going no where, but "If this be madness,/then there is method in it." I fear your disapproval. The hatred that you so easily throw about makes me cringe and curl up into a ball, no matter the unimportance to others. I value your friendship highly, I have for the last year, and I don't know what else to say.

Deep breaths take in when I am around you. Never has such dread and eager anticipation approached me at the same time as you have made it. I cannot say that I have never felt this before, but it has been different than anything I have valued before. Someone, irresistible is not who I a, or (it could be) that it was never expressed before.

You story is sacred, but I have heard it before. I feel that something else gets you. However, I do not know.

'Deary heart tender held,
fallen once before.
What does a broken piece mean?
Starlight nights define us.
And secrets kept between.'

December the Fifth of Two Thousand and Ten

I think things are finally settling back on normal. I think. Everything doesn't seem so angry and hostile, but that's because every word I say is a lie. It hurts to know this, and to say this, but at least I may speak the truth once, if only. Because, at least you will know, if ever, here. Instead of from someone. Yet, I cannot fully determine the truth. Where does absolute truth lie?

I keep wanting to say something that changes every day. You're right, why should I be tied down when I can't make up my mind? But, I keep getting more and more set. I don't know what to say anymore than he's not going in the friend zone, even though I said I would put him there. He's mine. We established it.

Don't think anger will break me out of this. I made a mistake, and it was fixed, to your disgust. I can't keep lying to you. So, ask me.

'Where does the water break?
Something you can hold,
but never shape.
However, I am earth,
falling to bending and shaping.
Hold me, love me,
without someone,
I am nothing.'

December the First of Two Thousand and Ten

Whate a broken, tragic road we walk on. When we travel, our souls beat against the gum stained (or the matter of spit and rubber itself) path. Yet, where do we go? The answer is simple: On with our lives. Just like everyone else in this world, we just keep going forward, on with our days, seconds, hours, minutes, weeks, and just keep going. Wait! I want to take a step back. I need a moment to think about things...to think about you.

Not everyone stands over a brook. A creek just like where Ophelia died. Who is everyone, though? I certainly am not, neither are you, or you, or you. ["WHO IS ME?!"] Over the small river I stand, I am held not by balance, but by opposites. On one side, there is truth and care. On the other, there are falshoods. What side of me will win? Which magnet will flip? Or, which one will flip around and match the other.

"Oh, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!" I am a liar, and a betrayer. Easiest to fall apart, but easiest to put back together. Is that the sacrifice is should make? (My inability to chose renders that all be sacrificed to the Earth). I hate to admit when you are right, and you know it; I have told you before. Just like a ball in a hallway, you know how my behavioral patterns fall. Life, what choice do I make? To repeat actions past, or to lose actions future?

'Kas aš esu, bet jūs,
Tik laiko pertraukos mus.
Pamiršote begalinis liūdesys
ir kad žalias kamuolys.'

November the Twenty-Ninth o' Two Thousand and Ten

I believe it. I knew it all along. I felt it from his presence, his walk, his talk. The way there were secrets; I knew. A woman knows. She does. Does it surprise me? Not specifically. The only thing that loses me in translation is how. Was it really my favorite place to be? Or was it someone lying? Maybe it was God. (Since everything is derived from God, everything relates back to God). I wait for answer, just like you.

I am pleased. I told you what you wanted to hear. Nothing but lies. I wait for a reason, justice, and then you can know. I wait. So do you.

Calmly creeping through the trees,
a hunter stalks its prey.
A muffled cry beneath the wind,
and sand blows it away.'

November the Twenty-Sixth of Two Thousand and Ten

It's been a long day. Even though I slept in until 10:22 AM.

I know you are right. It only takes a certain variable to discover absolute truth. For some, it is unbinding of chains. For others, it is just a good friend. How could I be so blind? Or is it bias that destroys me? Maybe it's just the fact that I'm so eager to believe you...

I'm not complaining. I did this. I want this.

This is all too funny. The irony is overwhelming. Uncaring, selfish, and using? BOTH SIDES. LOL. The weirder thing is that you feel used, because she tried to get to him. But really, he's using her to get to her. WEIRD.

'Bright nights and hearts,
heated days and movies.
Cliches and broken bones.
Where are they?'

November the Twenty-Third of Two Thousand and Ten

There he stands, majestically, watching his fate go. He knows that what he left behind was his life, his future, and everyone else's. He was the hope of his family and his people. So, why did he let it pass?

He stands over a small cliff, looking out at the rising water. He sees it glisten as the sun rises behind him and he breathes in the fresh water air. He looks down at what will be and then behind him to his people. They pace nervously, awkwardly dancing in place, wondering what will become of them. From a distance, another sees them and he waves goodbye and tears fall down his face. Everyone knew they were different, but to sacrifice everything...

At first, he regretted what he had done. He was ashamed that he had thrown away everything important to him. He was so frustrated. How could he demoralize his people? How could he let everyone down? How could he risk the friendship of those closest to him? And then, his anger moved against him and his argument turned into a self-attack. How could he do that? He was supposed to be the protector and the defender, but instead everything turns to the opposite. He is the murdered, a serial killer within their walls. Everything was his fault. He turned his people against him. He's throwing their friendship away. He turns and faces who he loves and bows his head in shame. "I have failed you." he called out to them, "but I cannot go back on what his done." With that, he felt the water wrap around his legs and he laid in despise.

'Knowledge only soothes a worries soul,
memories are about the materials made.
One can only do so much for a heart,
before it breaks.
Whether by others or by hammers self.
Finding things never lost,
maturity is a child's game.'

November the Twenty-Second of Two Thousand and Ten

How easily Claudius and Gertrude fall together, despite how short it was between that and the death of Hamlet Sr. But Gertrude wants Claudius all the same, and she will have him. She does have him. Especially in the Mel Gibson version, she has him. All the same, Hamlet must protest. It's been only two months since his father passed, and his mother is marrying? How could he forgive her or praise her in the swift movement towards his uncle that was made! Or was it his uncle, Claudius, who so easily swept her off her feet? No matter. In Act III, it all comes out of the box, and Hamlet, finally, fully expresses his distaste for the marriage. And then, a surprise. They kiss. Hamlet and Gertrude. It was his mother who initiated the action, but all the same, it was morally corrupt. "What should such fellows as I do, crawling between earth and heaven?" Gertrude, in the end, was meant to be with Claudius. It's what she wanted, what she dreamed up, and what she craved. Overcoming all odds, she married him and they were both pleased. Her kiss with Hamlet was just a moment in her life that she beg the Gods forget, for it means nothing to her now.

Every game of chess is composed of players and pieces. One person heads a team, like a motor unit (neuron and muscles to control). There are two queens on every table at the start. These queens are the power players, the strongest and meanest pieces on the court. They devour every pawn in their way without the slightest bit of hesitation. But this also makes them chess' most wanted. Or is it second most wanted? The objective of the game is to win the king, who is supposed to be strategically placed and positioned so that no one may reach it. It is the stupidest, yet most valued piece. Although seemingly lazy, this piece heads the army of everyone and without him, they are lost. Of course, without the queen, most are destined to fail.

I am such a bad liar.

'Look, a bird.
See it flutter fall.'

November the Seventeenth of Two Thousand and Ten

Where does this time fly by? Like birds in winter, it passes by us quicker than a cool summer breeze. Not only that, but it is the moment that creeps forward when you realize that time has in fact surpassed you too and every moment and pleasure that could have been possibly experienced in that time is lost. But lost too is the time you could have spent actually doing something instead of now wondering what you could have had, would have had, had you not been wasting your time. Then again, what is time wasted? Time use not being productive? Time that passes quicker than it should? Good times you wish could be brought back? And a longer time is wasted again.

It's a hard life to lead, leading one not for yourself. Should I ever? What is a day where I could only think of what I want? Never existed. Something I do for myself, like decide between silver and gold, whether to wear my hair up or down, and when to do my homework. Most things I do for everyone else. My weight, hair, what colors I wear, classes I take, when I get my homework done, hours on facebook...The list goes on to infinity. I never truly realized how much of my life is given away to please others until I stopped what could be halted and looked at what had changed. I wear more colors of the rainbow now. I stand up for myself now. I think evil things about people I love now and desperately wish I could say them (but to no avail). I do my homework later.

When he took a step over the line I took a step forward over his. No one pushes that button and gets away with it; no one. Rude words, glare, and easy contradictions have for only a day have made your life hell and you know it. Do not test me. This is the only point where I DO NOT BACK FUCKING DOWN-EVER. You will lose this fight against me, even if it means when I go away,we never speak again.

'Two makes more than broken hearts
and disappointed souls.
Where does the line between respect
and love break?
Hope is never around the corner,
and forgiveness is a mile beyond.'

November the Fourteenth of Two Thousand and Ten

There is only one thing left to say. I have said it all weekend, since Friday, repeatedly, to anyone with a conflict, but I will say it once more just to make sure that everyone understands: So, what now? It is only three of the most powerful words I've ever spoken. More intense than, "I love you." Because when you say, "So, what now?" the world stops and people are forced to really think what the progression of their lives are and what happens once a goal is met. Or, something disastrous happens. Something unexpected will cross your path, what then? Are we really ready for the worst, what ever it may be? The answer is, and will always be, no. No one is ready for what ever will happen, because who spends their time thinking about that shit all the time? No longer how long someone will deny it, there is not a person on Earth who doesn't (even secretly) hope for good to come. No one can deny that to themselves; no one.

We both believe it. We both think that it's true. Yet, I keep hoping that situations can be avoided. The awkward tension shouldn't exist. Although, and this will bother me forever, that question really threw me off. When you ask, I sat there shocked for a split second, thinking, 'Really?' I guess I could not have hesitated too long, or else you would have gotten suspicious. Anyways, not my point here. I'm pretty sure you know. That's why it isn't him, or anyone else. That's the reason why.

Super bipolar about what to do here. :/

'Quiet is louder in the dark,
and life is scarier when it's lit.
Where are the middles?
Lost in the oblivion of your eyes.'

November the Twelfth of Two Thousand and Ten

I need to take a break from psychology and realize what is going on in my crazy life. First, I'm pretty sure he either knows and is denying it or he actually hates me and wants me to go away, but I just haven't gotten the hint yet. There is not denying the truth of a crush because a lie about feelings and truth will only escalate things to a new level of hell. Yet, I still wish it would go away and never come back. It's like I try to make my life more complicated. Screw this, I will never change for anyone. Two, what do you expect of me? To be more than I am? You never clarify and you expect me to read your mind. You are not a child; use your words.

How am I supposed to describe to you this feelings? What words bring to my head? How everything gets strongly taken one way or another. It isn't like you don't know the feeling, girl. You've been in my place before, haven't you? Or have you?
I keep telling you, it's the big picture,not just the little pieces of what you want. Good and bad, we take it all or leave it be.

'Falling apart when being picked up,
destroyed for the fun.
Like white in white wilderness,
everyone is lost in the dark.'

November the Ninth of Two Thousand and Ten

Maybe it's only war to me because I can see both sides. Every piece of me sees the fighting, yet it's not there. Almost like shit-talking instead of manning up. I'm sure we would both be proud enough to do so. I don't know anymore; I just see it. I can't define what doesn't exist to anyone but me. How could I even begin to explain what no one is to understand?

Maybe I was wrong. I believe that this was it, and in an instant, it's gone. Because she cares about me, and I never knew her without that.

How easily my wild heart be tamed. What soft, sweet songs be sung to soothe my sorrowed soul. How quite quiet quills be so quip with me. Only your truths may be so told as to trouble tired tapestries of tret. You get me going, wondering, thinking. And I can't stop pondering, dreaming,hoping, all about you.

'Sully sorrow spans slowly,
with wild words of wit written.
To troubling the times of tret,
but borrowed blood be not broken.'

November the Fourth of Two Thousand and Ten

Only now do I begin to feel those lovesick twangs. I think that I want you, but yet I do not. I miss what we had, what we could have had, but yet, I do not. I do not regret the decision I have made, for as I said before, it has shown me the sun (reference "Allegory of a Dark Cave" by Plato). I do not need to play a part in a play before I can figure out what was here, I know myself too well for that. It is just that comparison is a sick habit that I can not kick. Like I told you last November the First,"You are an amazing kisser." Some boys just won't stack up.

I've got the proof that I'm not yours anymore though. Unlike your worry, it is not some boy or some love note written by a girl. It is my physical evidence of change, my only status. Where did this come from, you might ask. China. I will wear it round, we'll see who notices.

You two, the boy and the girl, with the Friday hangouts, want to do it for Winter Formal? With my volleyball friend too? She's got a deep soul, I'm sure you will like her.

I'm so excited for tomorrow! Who knows what another day will bring?

'Between the stars lie planets,
like broken bicycles.
Traveled far to find a home,
but only to be broken and misused.
Why must I be so bicycle?
And you the sin.'

November Second of Two Thousand and Ten

Here we go again. New day, same play. She's right world, they aren't my friends. I mean, they were before I started treating them like play things. "Friends don't mess with your mind or fuck with your feelings." I'm a bad person and a bad friend. What am I trying to accomplish here by destroying them? I wish not to stand up for myself when I don't deserve it, but I know that I'm not purposely trying to hurt them. If I could be with them both, and please them both, but I can't.

I know now that my problem, how I have tried to deny it, is that I am on the rebound. Once more, as always. I wish no one had gotten caught up in this either. I want to run away from you two, and never put you through the damage my heart will take out. I've already stabbed one of you, but you won't see the blood 'til I pull out the knife. I wish I could tell you, other you, to run. But I can't. My sick self needs someone to be hers.

Even sicker, is that there's only one person I want. Only one.

'What sick sun is this?
Rising and turning the sky black.
What bright moons are you?
When did two become the heros of the day?
Don't save me.
Only I have sheathed myself.'

October the Thirtieth of Two Thousand and Ten

No. Whatever was thought, planned, meticulously pondered, considered, and believed stands true. If anything, it is only more solid with the light on in the room. Never once had I considered what was real until I knew what it was. I am the lucky one who left from the cave ("Allegory of a Dark Cave" by Plato). I saw the sun, and though it blinded me at first, I know only what is real.


"I am completely satisfied without the time."

You have to understand, I cannot reach out to you. I love you, it is true, but I can't do it. You know that this anger comes from somewhere else, and I hate to lash out at you, but I feel like you're always giving me a double standard. Always tell me what's wrong with me. Not crediting me with any intelligence. Not giving me any leeway. I want to talk to you, but I'm too upset. I can't even tell you that I can't talk to you. There just isn't a way for me to do this. The reason why we always talk when they're around leads me to my next paragraph (and the one after that)...

I finally figured it out. After all the suggestions for last night, and the endless possibilities, it only hit me this morning. And it smacked me right in the face (how cliché). It's my family (but more specifically my father). I realize now that I always felt that even though he always (had to) love(d) me, I strive for his approval too. In order to receive this, I must intelligent and have no controversial opinions at all. This comes to what defines me: I sit down, shut up, and take it. Take how he criticizes my every move, how he rejects my every proposal, how I will never be good enough, how immature I am, how (on and on and on). I only wanted to be his girl, the daughter he always wanted. I took a few steps off the trail and got lost, and now I'm on a separate path. He'll never understand why I believe what I do because he hasn't seen what I have seen (and the reverse). [Never again shall I underestimate the effect a parent may have on a child.] "[My child], I am so glad you agree with me on everything! I couldn't have said it better!" He just said that to me about the way I described the political propositions of this year. I...want him to love me, so I let my anger dwell within.

Onto you. It frustrates me. How things are between us. In at least two ways. The first being the fact that no matter how independent from men I wish I could be, I will rely on you (heavily), and I already find you quite helpful (for my sanity and stuff). It's so aggravating to think that I will need you eventually and it is so..confusing. I don't know how to feel about this. It makes me nervous. I can only hope that you would never betray me without my deserving, but I am afraid to trust my friends. I have lost them so easily, and they have cut me so deeply. You know what it is like to hurt and be hurt.

'Rising with the sun,
a blood stained flag waves.
Shut, then open, shut,
Falling and soaring.
Jump and caught.
Turned to smile,
Neptune and Pluto switch,
Uranus admires.'

October the Twenty-Fourth of Two Thousand and Ten

Day One with Six Days and Eight Days:

I don't want to remember what was happening last year on this night. All those happy memories. It's not easy to think back on those times and smile, thinking, 'That was a good day.' I'm sorry, but it will never be like that again. I remember us sitting against the wall, listening to heavy metal, leaning against each other's bodies...It makes me want to vomit. Because it was so pretty. And now, it feels dirty. Even those cornfield moments, I don't know what to think. You ran from me, but you kissed me too. My heart beat fast.

Smiling. That wasn't my idea of what I'd be doing today when I woke up. I felt the end coming. I dragged myself around the house and tried to stay active. Every time something would happen, I would cry. CRY. Over absolutely nothing. Like, I went outside and asked my parents if I could have cinnamon roll and some fruit. My mom said, "Of course." I walk to the kitchen and before I can even eat, I start crying. Sobbing. I don't even know. My parents kept bothering me about the dishes. I knew I had to do them, accept the responsibility, but it kept tearing me apart. I sobbed for hours and hours, without anyone asking. I didn't know what was wrong, why I was so upset, and the frustrating thing is that I still don't.

Our conversations always make my day. They always make me smile and get me thinking. Don't fade away. I really love it. I will always thank you. I will always appreciate who you are. Try not to change. I will always try to be there for you, even in the toughest of times. And I love to listen to you rant.

'Without the sun,
the Earth doesn't live.
Without the moon,
Earth knows know beauty.
Without love,
the heart goes on.
Without air,
there is no heart.'

October the Twenty-Third Two Thousand and Ten

Day Five with Eight Days:

I remember now what life was. Anger, not pain, not feeling. Everything inside consumed by hatred, eating me from the inside out. Everyone gets lashed out on. Everyone loses. Even me. I squeeze my hands together, trying to keep myself from feeling anything but loathing. I can not relapse; I must always remember. But that's just me, I am too stubborn. That's the thing. No one would know; no one could care. My dirty little secret, and I would never need to hide. Nevertheless, I would only come to hate myself more and thus begin the destructive process over again. I think that if I fell from the edge, I wouldn't be able to stop. And someday, I would just be a piece of blood.

I hold myself tight, clutching my arms, trying not to die. I cry because it leaves me gasping for breath. I found that life is about feeling anything in life. Anything but anger. That may be the only thing I feel anymore. What is this rumored sadness? A happy day? Where these times go?

'A whitened soul,
found in tiny spaces.
Never live an open soul.
Hold a you to never.'

October the Twentieth of Two Thousand Ten

Day Three:

Big surprise how you make me feel.

Our arguments hit me deep, but I do not forget. I remember when he used to say, "You'll be sacrificing everything we worked for. Our world together." -sob- I will never pity you again. Your broken heart is my play toy, for my innocent one was yours. I have forgiven, but will never forget. I watch carefully from a distance, only revealing what I must.

Nevertheless, you still make my heart beat fast. I'm sure that you are magic. When I see you, I want to make out with you. That would be inappropriate, though.

What is the theme behind your wounding? Broken Trust.
How? It's simple. I believed in someone, to be a good person, who destroyed my life.
This is my dedication to you, boy. You ruined everything I ever had going for me. You ruined who I was as a person; I still can't trust completely. I let you know me, and understand me, but you violated me. Never again can I be the same. Furthermore, for the longest time it was like I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THE TRUTH. Everything was so wrong that I couldn't even tell myself what happened. Now that I know, I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop dreaming about it. I can't stop hating over it. I was seven, and you were eleven. You know what you were doing, and I had no clue. Sometimes, consensual sound be defined.

'Looking around,
I fight away the light.
Can't stop water from spinning,
the time keeps dripping.
Is this a broken mind,
or a working soul?'

October the Nineteenth of Two Thousand and Twelve

Day Two:

Everyone can see that we have hit our rough patch. We're such Tauruses about it too. Stubbornly sticking to our principles, instead of trying to compromise. Telling everyone that we don't care what happens, and who knows if it's true...

Out of everything, it's disappointment that hit me hardest.

I'm placing the same set of letters on the table, spelling out a single word. Everyone else does the same. I place another set of letters, and they place their previous. I'm not really sure, but I think that everyone is convinced that if they make the same argument over and over eventually I'll see their point.

'Intertwined fingers, pulling,
walk along the rocky shore.
Separate directions without a care.
Don't look back,
I'm 242 gone.'

October the Sixteenth of Two Thousand and Ten

She stands at the far end of the block. One of her arms is held, actually her hand, by a tall source of warmth. She turns to him and smiles, flashing him a caring look. She turned back and stares down the street. The sound of construction workers and heavy machinery hit her before the actual sight of orange vests and torn up streets. The road was a busy place, not only full of life with revision, but with people making their way along the road, stopping in stores or continuing on to work. Squinting, she could view a girl in bright, vivid blue. Lifting her free arm, she flailed her arm about at the figure. Her intentions were to have the girl recognize her, but also a small beckon for her to join them. However, the girl did not move. She saw a few guys pass by. Nothing changed. She turned again to face the man behind her and gave a weak smile. She pushed herself onto her tip-toes and kissed him. She turned back, squeezing his hand, and waited for the girl in blue.

I'll always wonder my life will take me. I am a being of curiosity. I someday picture myself older and sitting in a rocking chair. Surrounded by no one. I always have. No grandchildren, no children, and no man. I wonder why that is. Am I to die alone? It couldn't really be that bad. Or will I just never get over you?

I spend all my time, now, wondering what we're going to do. It's awful being in love. I see the last day of school (before winter break) over and over again in my head, replaying the same sad movie. We're sitting together on the bench, like we used to every day before this year/before it got hot again. I'm holding your hand. I read the text that your mom sent you (because you had your phone out. [We were texting each other.]) and told you that you should go. (She'd been there for five minutes waiting). I kiss you. I tell you to wait a second and grab my backpack. I pull out our black notebook and hand it to you with hopeful eyes. We stand. You grab my waist and we kiss again. You look into my eyes and say, "Goodbye." Then, you head over to the parking lot and get into the car and you're gone. Sometimes, it kills me inside. I laid awake yesterday and couldn't sleep. You're leaving, I know. It's hard to accept, but yes, you're going and there's nothing I can do. Or you can do. I want you to go; it's your destiny. It is the path that fate has chosen you to take; don't sacrifice all that you were meant to experience. Don't deny your life. I'm just your girlfriend.

Sometimes I wonder if this feeling inside me really is love. I always knew it to be heartbreak. That's always how it's felt. It kind of feels that way now. I act like it will be over when you go. But won't it? We'll be so far apart. It'll be so hard.

The only thing I can think of to say is... I don't want to go on without you.

'Quickly grab and open heart,
pull you through the door.
Go in,
I must leave.
You can be happy,
the hallway is for me.'

October the Fifteenth of Two Thousand and Ten

I figured it out. I am a chronic flirt, which you should all know by now. I realized why. I feel like I need to flirt with a guy to keep him around, to keep him caring about me, to keep him being my friend. It is unacceptable for me to act this way. I am a grown woman, mature (or, in the least, maturing). It is almost ridiculous for me to continue my life this way. I AM NOT SOME CHILD. I will not flaunt around to build a friendship. If anything, I should do the opposite. I should keep my distance and stay away.

"I don't want the day to come when he says, 'Goodbye' and it means forever." I don't want that day to come. I spend so many nights thinking about it, crying over it. I can't ever tempt destiny...

'Holding you hand,
your eyes look so warm.
I move close to you,
and you slip away.
Looking back,
I'm not sure if you
were ever there at all.'

October the Fourteenth of Two Thousand and Ten

I kept running out of breath today.

Was it on account of my seeing you? :/

'Heart saved,
heart broken.
I have a virus.
They're coming in the mail.
Me wrong with what?'

October the Thirteenth of Two Thousand Ten

After a long day of shopping, there are few things I still have to say.

I still believe you have everything. You do not have to believe it, but it's true. Yes, everything isn't perfect; however, it doesn't want to be better. Without the hard times, you wouldn't be who you are now. You have money, and security. You will never have to wonder where the next dollar is coming from or how your dreams are now crushed. You have everything you could ask for, including your own computer. You have friends who care about you, an overwhelming number. You're smart; you can add faster than I can count and have a strategy like no other. You are a good person with a good heart and an honest viewpoint. I could never replace you. To me, that seems like everything.

I feel kind of bad. Taking her place? I never would have thought. If anything, I thought that my friend would take her place; you two seem kind of closer. I didn't mean to push her off the hill, but I kind of understand how it happened. I didn't know I was up there 'til you told me. There's only one thing I can never step into her shoes for though....

'Jump, skip, jump,
flutter, flutter,
FALL.
Looking into the darkness,
I knew it all along.
She led you away.
I was still waiting for you.'

October the Eleventh of Two Thousand and Ten

When I got home from college, I cried. I don't know, I must do that a lot. Actually, I know I do it a lot. However, it is better than a lot of things I have done before. Terribly, I wished I could have relapsed today. I wish I could have fallen apart and watched pieces of myself fall to the floor. I wanted to hurt. I wanted to feel something, anything, other than anger. Yet, I stayed normal. I cried until it hurt. It's all I have left.

I'm terribly suicidal. You want to know why world? (And I figured this out as I was yelling at my mother in a tangent)... I'm going to end up in community college. Not so bad? IT'S TERRIBLE. When I was younger, I dreamed of going to Harvard, the most amazing school in the United States. I still envy anyone who goes there. So, all my days, I've tried my best. Knowing that I could never get into Harvard, yes, but always secretly wishing. Ever since I can remember, half of my money has gone to college. Now, it's all thrown away. I did not even want to stay in state. I WORKED HARD SO I COULD BE BETTER THAN THAT. ...Now, I can't be better than that. I don't have the money. I'm left with the the people who never tried. Who didn't care. Who could have slept through class. The D students. All the people I hated. Everything I never wanted. I worked all my life, sacrificing friendship, food, and hours of sleep (and growth) to work. To study. To dream. It was sacrificed.

If I were to die, all my troubles would fade away...

'Dream without me,
take a few steps back.
We'll meet again.
I would never play the game you did,
attempting to twist the fates of others.
Now, I see only a tumbleweed.
It lives.'

October the Eighth of Two Thousand and Ten

I'm pretty sure you ruined my day. I could only hope so hard that you could live up to expectations, mine and those that people previous to you have set. However, you fail me. Not only that, but you disgust me. You make me want to vomit until I cough up blood and then continue. For me to rid my body of its entire contents before I begin having dry heaves. I wish I could spit acid on you.

Do you even know what you did? You gave me a seventy-five. However, that's not even the half of it. You refused to acknowledge or try to comprehend a new idea. I didn't follow the POTW (purpose of the writing)? Honestly, that's your excuse? You did not write it! Walter Van Tilburgh Clark did. Are you him? I didn't think so. Your perspective v. mine. Excuse me for being different. More than that, if she didn't write it, could she be wrong? Should she refuse to see another viewpoint? Another possible reason for writing? I don't think so. It's like saying, "I'm your teacher and I'm a Catholic; you wrote an essay about why you're atheist and backed it up with valid points, but that's not a correct interpretation of life, thus you get an F." It feels like I wasn't graded on my skill as a writer, but why I was wrong in my viewpoints. And that is just depressing. (Isn't there always an underlying possibility?)

I don't have a dairy. I don't have a heart. I have a blog and a soul, and it's all I've got to cling to.

I love it how you tell the truth. You're doing me a big favor. Yet, it breaks me up inside. I tell you something for you to shut me down. I can't fight back because I need you to help me. I will forever be trampled. It feels like I could never win you over either. You will always see my flaws and you may always be in love. I'll sit along the sidelines and watch...

'Dear heart,
far away from darkness.
Where does this feeling arise?
Toss you between two letters,
pieces fall.
Can't believe I'm falling apart,
all over you...'

October the Third of Two Thousand and Ten

I was having a good day up until I got that text. It's so simple, so innocent, yet it makes me want to scream. "She needs cat ears to be [his] girl." Oh! That just makes me want to punch her in the face! I mean, I love him (platonically. He's sweet, kind, funny, smart, and more. But this girl! Ugh! Originally, I could understand why he likes her; she's attractive in a way. But with him, it will always be more than skin deep. She's there for him. However, not enough. When he really needs someone by his side to have and to hold, she'll walk away. Everything is lost. She's known him long enough to know him. but to care...I sort of doubt that she ever really will.

I really care about this boy. We are getting married, if the world did not know. (YAY! I'M ENGAGED, BITCHES!) I kind of feel like I already know him, like I can understand what he means. (Even though he does articulate his meaning quite well). However, I think it goes deeper than that. When I speak to him and her (another her), it feels like we're all connected, as if our feelings were attached to a string. We can all pick up on each other. The best part is, I feel as though I can trust you. I mean, it's only been a year and I've already told you some of my most personal secrets. You stayed at my house 'til one A.M. talking. I feel like we could just chill forever. Even more, it feels like we could talk and talk and talk. There's nothing we would not talk about, yet we never run out of things to say.

I am pleased with life at the moment.

"If it were an object, I'd just want to walk up to her with and smack her, screaming, 'Look at this, bitch! Look what we did!'"

'Spread apart the open sky,
stars keep the dark.
Close me behind the last one,
and break a time over me.'

September the Thirtieth of Two Thousand and Ten

Oh, cruel world, I am not so intrepid. In fact, I am inundated by my own worry and sorrow. Please, excuse the following infective.


FUCK THIS SITUATION! WHY IS LIFE SO FUCKING GOD DAMN HARD?!?! THIS IS SHIT! FUCKING FUCKITY FUCK FUCK FUCKNESS!!!!!!!! ARGH! I AM SO FRUSTRATED BY ALL THIS FUCKING SHIT THAT I CAN'T EVEN UNDERSTAND! D:<

Anyways (sorry, needed a moment), this will be the short itinerant of my day. Woke up. Turned off alarm. Forgot to his snooze. Jumped out of bed at six. Washed hair in sink. Turned on phone. Texted friend "Happy Birthday." Put makeup on. Got dressed. Wished Mom happy birthday. Friend came over. Breakfast. Went to Dutch Brothers. Went to school. Hung with friends at table. Subtly confronted boyfriend problems. Kissed boyfriend. School. Got kicked out of European Club. Went to lunch. Kissed boyfriend. Watched friends battle pokémon. School. Got yelled at by anatomy teacher for bad grades. Went home. Flopped on the couch and wondered about my life. Made noodles (couldn't eat). Got hair cut. Played volleyball. Did vocab. Now we're here. There's some of my jargon for your brain.

I am flustered. I debate my amount of trust for you now, with this distance between us and getting larger as time passes. I have not decided what I wish to do yet. I mean, I certainly don't want to jettison our relationship, but can I get too attached if you're going to leave? (Oh, where is the judicious side of me? Normally, I can see the answer to my problems with a keen eye...). I can hear the knells for our relationship now as I lament. It's depressing. And I am at some terrible degree of pain. Even more, our relationship is only at it nuance.

The thing is that I can not just fully give you my heart so that you can make out on with another girl. If you expect me not to be conflicted, it's like larceny of my heart. I'm just leery of the time to come. (Sorry, I don't mean to sound lavish. Okay, maybe a little.)

I am so lethargic from volleyball. 6-2 is the worst rotation ever. D': Maybe I'm not as liberal as I was previously about it. I was, originally, looking forward to going back to old rotation. Not anymore. Now, I'm completely listless about it. It's so complicated! Our old rotation seems lucid in comparison. Plus, 4-2 is malleable to our players; this just makes me run into people. It's hard to be meticulous when you're learning something new. I miss the monotony! Oh, how naïve was I...

I am forever obstinate in my contradictions.

Latent, I draw you in,
kindling what we have.
Blinded, I only shed a tear,
you are luminous.
Don't set,
Sunshine.'

September Twenty-Ninth of Two Thousand and Ten

Hey! Hey! I was being creative here with my titles and the blogging thing. Can you pick which one you're going to copy, Ms. Sad Face? Yes, that is your name now, Ms. Moapy. Man, you're just going to have a bunch of nicknames. Seriously, cheer up! Life isn't all a pattern. Take it from me, I already tried that. I mean, I'm the one with the love scale. But dear, you certainly did take some time to calculate that one. I never would've even tried. Nevertheless, as I have said multiple times previous to this occasion, "STOP RUSHING IT." Everything is going to come running and ram right into you. It'll all happen so fast, and so perfectly, you won't have a moment to stop and enjoy it. If you rush, you'll lose it all not remembering all those "little things." And that's what makes it special.

I'm thinking about you and my heart beats fast. It's all those little things. We've shared so much time together, and we're getting and closer to our day. I've been waiting for it. You remember New Years'? You said you wanted to last all year. Back then, I thought, 'That's a long time.' Now, I'm saying, "Three more wonderful months." This will be great. By the way, I saw something on Facebook talking about corn fields. I automatically went, "Fear Farm." Want to go to "The Nest" this year? We should take her and get her an amazing date.

I wish I had about seventy dollars to buy this something I want. I will save up and feel proud! Just give me some time to raise the money?.... :\

Today's been much better.

'Over the mountains,
I see that fabric.
Falling behind the pedestal,
don't look at me.'

September the Twenty-Seventh of Two Thousand and Ten

I am being deliberately harassed, I swear to God. Maybe it's that they forget, but I can't stand crowds. My mom wants to know why I'm so off my mood, well maybe it's because she dragged me into a crowd and suffocated me in it. I've been on the verge of tears for over two hours. Thanks a lot, I was dying in there. It's to notice that no one, even your best friend, can see the tears welling in your eyes. I managed to talk to only two people, beyond my group, because I was having a full-on panic attack. I was clinging to each of my arms for dear life, because if I let go I would be swept into the crowd and lost in the wind, my worst nightmare. (Where did this claustrophobia/panic attacking come from? I can stand people, but no when their touching me constantly, rubbing against me, it makes me want to kill them all. I could sit in a small cave for hours, no deal. It's just people that get me. I'm choking up now just thinking about it.)

More than that, why is everyone on my back? My brother and sister won't leave me alone about hanging out with one guy friend. Even threatens me with a loss of boyfriend because of our friendship. He trusts me; does anyone understand the concept?! Are they trying to take out anger on our lasting, and bueno, relationship because they don't have them?

Why does everyone keep calling me fat?!

I need to cry. Excuse me, world.

'the soft touch of wind,
liquid hits my face.
Warmth.
I open my eyes,
face only stained with crimson.
The space expands.
I have been waiting for you.'

September the Twenty-Sixth of Two Thousand and Ten

"You're really smart and he's...not." Wow, you fail. Honestly, he's not smart and neither is she. Where does he even get off thinking she is? She fails classes all the time! She doesn't do her homework, she fails tests, and she has no idea what she's doing with her life and she's not trying to figure it out. Oh, and where does she get off thinking she can tell me how to live my life?! That fucking bitch. Seriously, if anyone needs to get lectured about morals here, it's her. "I don't flirt with other guys." First off, we flirted for, like, a week and a half. Second, maybe you remember your boyfriend's friend? Oh yeah, you almost broke up with your boyfriend for him. Hm...wonder how that happened.

I'm felling awfully bitchy recently. Especially since she's been trying to push my buttons. Stupid stupid girl. He didn't want to be your date anyways. Oh, and you, she's not worth your time.

Can't wait for next Saturday-yard sale+epic conversations. Can not wait.
"This is a story for another day."

'Never take my breath away,
never say "another day."
Don't cloud my mind with broken words,
let my heart break free.
Crying through the broken glass,
blood and brains weren't meant to last.'

September the Twenty-First of Two Thousand and Ten

It is hilarious, blogspot.com. There's this great feature where you can click "Next Blog" which just leads you to random blogs so that you can follow them or whatnot. People post funny things on the blog that any sexual predator might be reading. I know that, do they? "Let's post pictures of our children in front of our house! Nobody will ever be able to figure out where we live!" I love parents like that. Actually, inspiring this post, I was on a blog today (after clicking "Next Blog" like five times) that was a family blog. These people posted pictures of them kissing, the grandfather's funeral, their kids, and even their kids teeth. I laughed. I feel corrupted, but I really wanted to comment anonymously and say, "I will rape your children." Because honestly, wouldn't that be a wake-up call to the family who thought they were safe online? Is it possible to be "safe" online anyways? That's like having safe sex without any protection. Oh, how naïve.

YELLOW, YELLOW, YELLOW, YELLOW, YELLOW, YELLOW, ORANGE, ORANGE, RED, RED, RED, PURPLE, VIOLET, PURPLE, PURPLE, PURPLE, VIOLET, VIOLET, BLUE, BLUE, BLUE, BLUE, GREEN, GREEN, GREEN. I can only be so insane once every day.

"If you don't want any rocking, you have to use pry." Is my dad watching a show on how to break into houses? :O That explains the extra money we can throw around. Buy a car! Buy a car! (If my parents get a car, so do I!)

That was sweet of you to post. :3

'Help my soul,
rock me away.
Shake me to sleep,
lakes become my bed.
Slowly falling upwards,
death is fading.'

September Twentieth of Two Thousand and Ten

Monday birthday's must be disappointing. I wouldn't remember, however, considering I haven't had one in...five years. That's it. So, I would've been eleven. And thinking about it, I didn't even know you then. I didn't really know anyone then, even myself, or especially the world. The people I have come to know and love/appreciate were never my childhood friends. Not surprising, though. I was a very "interesting" child to say the least.

I have had to learn to type on too many new keyboards within the last few weeks. My parents bought two new computers within the last two weeks. First, a Mac, because we though, 'Might as well convert.' And then, it crashed. While waiting for it to get fixed, we bought a Windows. We're PCs. <3

Dear God, I feel dirty. Not in the sexual way, either. Nor in the literally covered in dirt way. I mean, just disgusting. I feel sick to my stomach. And I'm posting this paragraph to blame you. I read over thirty of your posts, and God, incest never seemed so sick. You had me worrying for your mental health until you clarified the situation to me.

Listening to Pandora.com-Bullet for my Valentine Radio. "Come on, 'Hearts Burst Into Fire!' Come on!!" Then, it came on. I am desperately pleased.

Anyways, back to you, Mr.Disturbing. Yeah, that's your nickname now. I declare to be so. And my word is final here! You scared me! That was just...have you even ever read your blog? It's like you're not even there. I can't find you inside those posts. I can't wait to see the one you promised me that truly represents you. Or, in a scary possibility, you could actually be the way ninety percent of your blog is. ...I think I might cry.

So, world, how are you? If anyone cares, I'm pretty good. Doing some epic flirting. I think he and I are the same page now. (Random song quote: How do you expect to ever get laid if you sit inside and play your computer games?") I'm glad he is. Or, maybe he's not. Do you think I'm talking about your friend? Do you?

I want calling possibilities on the blog. That would be crazy fun.

Have a good day! I demand it! :]

'Fan blows,
where is the wind?
I want your voice,
take my hand.
Spin around,
I'm taking in your eyes.
Bath my heart in your smell,
I can't wait for you.'

September the Nineteenth of Two Thousand and Ten

I'm not sure how to feel anymore. One day, I'm crazy, but the next... I'm unsure. It can't be this grievous pain that is ailing me, for it has only bothered me for the last few days. Yet, this has been burrowed in the back of my head for at least a week. I keep going up and down like my whole world is head-banging. Is there no middle ground? Is the path I am choosing to become impasse? Oh, world, don't do this to me. I care, and I do not like conflict.

According to my horoscope, you were suposed to make your move on the eleventh. Now, everytime I see you, I'm waiting for you to make your move. I doubt that day will ever come, but a girl may always dream. However, a Taurus girl hates conflict; if it were a person, she would burn it at the stake and scream, "WITCH! WITCH!" even if doesn't believe in witches at all. So, I am yet again conflicted. I know this situation is not innocuous.

To go slightly off topic today, my little brother just insulted me. I try to convey a relevent point to someone, my brother is talking about the football game with my father, and I try to mention to him the run during the Cardinal's game today. Yeah, they ran some ninety yards into the end zone, only to get called on holding and loose the seven points. Anyways, I'm telling him about it and he says, "I don't even care. I don't care what they did." That bothers me. I try to reach out to someone, only to be put down. "You can never trust a boy."

Back to the conflicting situation, I am trying my hardest to reach out to you. I mean, I do feel guilty at times, but that feeling is over-ruled by my Capricorn. (Yes, I have recently discovered that my Capricorn loves to break and test rules that she won't get in trouble for.) My flirting has become a hyperbole. I push my giggling to new limits, hoping you will reach back to me. I practically intgratiate to you. Honestly, I am sure I have a seriously problem with senseless flirting. Maybe I just want to know that someone who doesn't have to like me, does. Maybe my Taurus just needs the reassurance of her sex appeal. I don't know. My poor boyfriend.

On the other hand, I can not really say about him either. Your personality has become hermetic, and I am not a man. Getting lids off of pickle jars is a man's work; unfortunately, I cannot help you. If you are impervious to letting someone into your soul, then how do you expect me to make it through lines of armed guards? I'm not invincible. I kind of blame myself. There must have been something I did to drive you away. Why won't you tell me what has gotten you so upset? I've been intimate with you for almost a year now. When will you show me who you are? Another thing is, I'm not gullible or stupid. I am a Virgo. So, if you don't tell me and I know something is wrong (which I will; it's called a woman's intuition), then I will automatically blame myself. My brain says, 'Did you insult him? Are you not making him happy anymore? Does he not love you? Does he suspect you? Has he simply lost interest in you? What did you do to him?' And it is those questions that make me lie awake at night and dread the next day. The questions that make me pull my hair out and cry myself to sleep. In my head, I can picture me falling to the ground and groveling to you. I would demean myself, fall on the floor and make myself into soemthing completely worthless, if only to know what you think of me. There is something between us; I can feel it. Nevertheless, when I ask you, you become intransigent to your original answer; "I'm fine. Nothing is wrong." You're breathing lies to me and I can't breath anything but double oxygen molecules. I will always wish to be homogenous to you, but never shall we be with the attitude I see.

Okay, seriously, Dude, that was just cruel. You were one of the reasons for sacrifice, one of the reasons everything is about to change very quickly. I can feel the drama heading towards us like a storm; the dirt is already kicking up and getting in my eyes. I wish to call you so many names, including an ingrate. You must have no idea of the sacrifice that there was involved. You have no idea what that decision put her through. Everyone is only proving to her that no one really does care for her, when truly it's wrong. If I watch her self-esteem plummet once more, someone will lose their head. And you guys are nic people too, we never saw this coming. Not even a text. Not even a "Wish I could be there." Not even a "Happy Birthday!" Nothing. Someone will be punished for this. Back to you, I want the truth. Be explicit with me. Tell me why you did not arrive; why there wasn't even a text or a call. "You can never trust a boy." Oh, and you (other boy), the Cory muscle you can't pull here. We can read straight through your lies.

Furthermore, I would like to say that you can't conduct a full interogation on her. This isn't some inquest; it was a sleepover. You have to understand, things don't get forced out of people without them resenting it. She seems to be ingenuous. Let her dark side reveal itself as it wishes. I understand that it's frustrating, waiting for her to tell you. We just want to help. Don't force her though. She's intractable. I see at least one Earth sign behind her. She's got the stubborness of a Taurus. Trust me, there's no forcing that wall down. You simply have to wait for it to crumble. You can't imbue that wall.

'These curses surround me,
the Devil's magic takes my soul.
I can only fight for so long.
Please, save me.
I pray to the only hope I know.
One person,
his back is turned to me.
Thank you, God.'

September Seventh of Two Thousand and Ten

You can never trust a boy. We've said it again and again. It is just another one of those things girl tell each other to comfort them. Not because they need comforting, because we all need to hear the truth. No matter how many times it's said, someone forgets, and we have to start all over again. We can't help but believe that you would be better. It only takes a certain amount of time before we decide to test you, putting some of us in your hands and seeing if you'll drop us. When you don't, we think, 'Hey, maybe he's different," but you're not. You're the same as all the rest of them, and eventually you'll let us down, destroy our trust, and lose hope. Just when we last expect it, another beautiful boy will come wandering by, pick up our hearts, dust them off, give them back to us, and sit down to ask us why we chucked that lovely heart across the room at the wall. We'll adore him like we adored you. Hurt, we will heal with time. And thus, the cycle continues.

I miss you, maturity. I loved you with all my heart; why aren't you here anymore? I saw you yesterday. I tried to love you again. But then I remembered, I'm in love with someone else. I'm kind of tied down right now. Don't worry, I will have you soon enough.

'Hello again,
my love.
Your secrets revealed,
a smile spreads across my face.
You make me laugh.
I already love the sun.'

September the Fourth of Two Thousand and Ten

"I Stand Here Ironing" and "A Rose For Emily." So many ways to view each epic tale. I hate them both with a fire that burns inside my soul like the sun. They just, simply, bore me to death. I want to tear them to shreds. Scratch that, I want to glare at them until someone takes the book away from me because I am creeping them out. You want to know how much I hate these stories? Remember our old "pal" Tim O'Brien? Yeah, the fuckface that decided to make no decision at all and go to Vietnam-off to the war he doesn't believe in. Well, Tillie Olsen and William Faulkner make Tim O'Brien seem fun. This was my thought reading Olsen and Walkner, 'I need a break; I think I'll read The Things They Carried.' Exact thought. I terribly hate that book; I hate reading Tim O'Brien. He angers me. That man is a small girl with no balls at all and I swear to God, I am more of a man than he is. (Honestly, I'm more of a man than a lot of guys I know. I'm a super tomboy). Maybe I should take that back. What we read in Principles of English II made me hate him. What's in the Senior AP English book isn't all that bad. It's actually kind of fun. ...Now I can't make up my own mind FML.

Speaking of that, I just browsed through mylifeisaverage.com, love.givesmehope.com, and fmylife.com. Best websites ever. Haven't been there? Then, stop being a fucking loser and look 'em up. You'll laugh your ass off, go AWWWWWWW~, and then think, 'your life does suck.' My neighbors love gives me hope.

I shall return another day.

'Smile a moment,
hold your breath.
His moon is the light,
and your breath is the trees.
Run like an angel,
speak like the wind,
and hold onto you.'

September First of Two Thousand and Ten

Yes, we all know about the salmonella in...is it Iowa? Well, national news could only lead us to that. As such, we learned that one of the farms where the salmonella was found was just a truly disgusting place. Even workers weren't treated right; some employees had filed multiple counts of sexual harassment. Some guy (of course) in the back pipes up, since it wasn't clarified, "Wait, the workers or the..." Everyone laughs and then our teacher interrupts, "CHICKENS HAVE RIGHTS TOO!" Then, the whole class only feel into a larger fit of laughter and we couldn't even move on to the next subject for five minutes. I love that class. (Fifteen hundred Americans have gotten sick from salmonella so far [well, last week]. People should really cook their eggs; we're not Rambo.)

I would like to take a moment now to kind of apologize. I mean, I'm not taking back anything I said, but I may have SLIGHTLY over-exxagerated. I mean, you're certainly not related to Satan in any way, but I'm just not very godly, so take it as a compliment. And no, I don't actually want to have your children-aslo an over-exxageration. I'm just saying here, honestly, that was not stuff that I was spitting out at random. There's a lot of weirdness going on in my head.

Has anyone noticed that I am a giant feminist? I swear, I cannot stand weak boys. I just want to punch them in their guy parts and laugh evilly. Seriously, you're a man (or going to be one) so GROW UP! I hate it when boys act like small girls, ignorant and immature. I HATE IT SO MUCH I COULD CALL SATAN AND SLAUGHTER THEM ALL.

'Oh, demons and angels,
future isn't yours to choose.
Jumped and fell,
he held the sword.
Can't help him now,
he will...'

August Twenty-Sixth of Two Thousand and Ten

Even though sometimes it goes by really slowly, I do particularly enjoy school. All six hours of it. My classes are, at times, challenging, but three are AP (advanced placement), how could they not be? Nevertheless, I love them and I am satisfied.

First hour is AP government. Every week, three days a week, we bring in editorials about America and discuss them. You should watch our class blow up when we talk about gay marriage or the mosque in New York! Our class is mainly one-sided, but it's fun to watch everyone get upset over people not believing the same thing they do. However, the most exciting thing of all is this one Mormon. I AM SO BIASED WHEN IT COMES TO MORMONS-typicallly. But there he was, shining in the light, like an angel of Satan. This LDS believes gay marriage isn't wrong. He believes that the mosque should be accepted instead of hated. And I just want to run up to him and spawn his Mormon children! (I don't even want kids!) He restored my faith in humanity. It was beautiful.

Then, there's English. I was more scared on the first few days that it was going to be really difficult. Ends up, I've got better grammar than a lot of kids around me. And, a kid in my class is gay! :DDD "[Cute, fuzzy bunnies] going prowling for carrots." Right now, I'm doing a story analysis on "The Story of an Hour." It's about Louise Mallard, a now, widow with a heart problem. When she hears her husband is dead, she disappears to her room to celebrate. However, he turns out to be alive and she dies of a heart attack from shock. And that's how that went. The more I analyze it, the more I think about the subtle evil that could be there. Did Josephine know Brently was downstairs and was trying to kill her sister, Louise? If so, does Josephine have a secret crush on Brently and wants him to love her, so she's killing his wife? Did Richards lie all along to help this evil plot? Why is Josephine so eager to get Louise out of the room? Too many questions, so little answers.

Third hour is orchestra, which is always amazing. My teacher makes orchestra so much fun and everyone loves him. Right now, my orchestra class is playing "Ididarod," "Love Song from Kanding," and "The Tempest." They are all very different pieces, but all very fun. I'm so happy to finally be a first violin. Yay~

Lunch is amazing. Pokemon FTW. Battled a friend today who beat me with his level one hundred Gengar, Estella. I knew I was going to lose, but Christ, I killed five of his pokemon and I had three left. Fuck cakes. My table is pretty interesting. I'm the only girl left at our table now that my best friend has LEFT ME! But it's all good because I'm a dude between the ears. I love our political and economic debates. <3

Fourth hour is MY class. Sure, it's tough, but psychology is where it's at. I'd like to be a clinical psychologist when I grow up and help out those crazies. I love the crazies. The classwork is tough and the reading is BORING! But notes and review time are really helpful, so I'm grateful for that.

Fifth hour anatomy. Dear God, just when you think all the memorizing is over HERE COMES SO MORE, MOTHERFUCKER! Christ, and that class takes forever! But at least there are some of my friends in there, that's the only thing that keeps me going. "So, Daughter, what did you do in anatomy today?" "We made babies!"

Sixth hour, I'm a student aid. I miss having that class. But I realize now, it was, no matter how amazing, too easy. And my teacher was tough. She's great and the best teacher I've had so far. I love working with her. She makes me want to be an english teacher, So inspirational. <3~

P.S., World, I really want to kiss him again. I keep playing it over and over in my mind and I swear, I will kiss him. I will.


'Wants, desires,
secret fires.
Burn within me,
light of eternity.
Wish and dream,
thought of stream.
Hopeless bliss,
from you-a kiss.'

August the Twenty-Fifth of Two Thousand and Ten

Oh, August twenty-fifth, tell me what is wrong. Tell me why I am so sad. Tell me why I do not care. Tell me, day, I demand an answer. I feel hopeless inside and everything around me is slowly, but surely, coming to an end.

Everything means nothing to me, and nothing still means nothing. When will this apathy end? When will I understand my own self. High school is for growth and change, but I already know what I believe in and who I am. Christ, why can't I understand the way I feel?!

It feels like a rock, like I swallowed a rock. Inside me, there is a bag of sand. A bag of lump. A bag of something. A bag of nothingness. A bag of despair. And yes, I swallowed it. For there it sits inside me with a pleased look of satisfaction on its face as I cry myself to sleep. As I stare aimless at my friends. As I start to find no desire for anything. It poisons my system, takes over my brain. My prefrontal cortex, my emotions system, decomposes and this nothingness, this lump, carries a smug look and hates me. It just loathes my existence and my life. It despises me so much, that it made me swallow it, so that it could evilly destroy me from the inside out. So, day, when I die, I guess everyone will know why.

But it is more than that. I can't stop lying to you-as you got a taste of today. I'm done, fed up. I'm not kidding around anymore. You know, and yet you continue. Stop choking it down to bad decisions, because people worth my time learn from their mistakes. I'm not laughing it off anymore because it was never funny in the first place. Stop demanding from me too. Not cool. If you ever bothered to fully read the black note I left you it said something to this effect, "And I kissed him because I wanted to. Not because I was forced to. [He] would never do that." It's like you broke my heart. BROKE IT. "My heart's not a spring." I can't just grab some duct tape and fix it myself. Maybe that's why it's so sour to say those three words. Because my hearts broken. And know I'm falling out of love. I am sorry that this happened. That I spoke up at all. Or that until you read this, I will keep lying to you.

No, this isn't PMS. This is me. Finally. I've snapped. So, watch out world; here I come.


'Treat me right,
start a fight.
I keep waiting
for the sky to fall.
The Earth trembles
and he leads me away.'

August the Twleveth of Two Thousand and Ten

My home is an aerie, and I am a death hawk. I rip through friendships like a shredder to paper, and manage to destroy them irrevocably. Without even trying to. Maybe I am a little vague and ambivalent, but you are the one who keeps abstaining from seeing me. We have plans and one little detail gets changed, or one little thing changes, and soon enough, we can't hang out anymore. Faster than that, our friendship falls apart.

We can't just wait for someone to shout to us from the belfry and tell us what to do. We need to act of our own accord, make plans and stick to them, have ideas for chilling. We have to be adults here or else this is never going to work out. And if our friendship falls apart, I'm going to cry like a girl who was assailed and raped.

Remember when you promised me that'd you always be there? What happened to that? Or, is it a constant thing that boys do-this lying to girls thing? I never thought I could trust a boy, but my heart is breaking at the thought of you leaving, so clearly I beleieved that you were honest. Out of nowhere, our friendship is apathetic to you. It's not like I couldn't feel you drifting away, but today it was almost a slap in the face when you just left. You didn't know where you were going, but it seemed better than where you were-with me.

Can't we comprimise or make an amalgamation? I want to work this out. I...don't want to lose you. I believe in you. And you should know as well as I do that I might have been your only advocate for a long while there. I know you're good; our friendship is not based around pity.

I promised you that I'd be there too. Maybe it's banal, to promise anymore, but I still did. I want to hold out that promise. Without friendship though, it turns me into a stalker...and that's not really awkward at all, is it? And yes, this is all a little ambiguous, but I'm trying to reach out to you! I'm trying to articulate my voice and say that I LOVE YOU! And I cannot bear to lose you as a friend. I never thought you were this important.

Even though I was an advocate, I knew I was a little antagonistic sometimes. Through all those times I wouldn't speak to you, I just didn't have words to say. I couldn't think of how to address the problem, so I basically ran away from it. But I am done running; I'm here to stay.

Saralynn told me straight out that we could not be friends anymore. Personally, I could not tell you if it alleviated the pain at all. I was still broken up inside, still hurt. But, I guess, blunt it best. Can't this be easier? I'm not tryong to adulterate our friendship here, but can't we try and work this out? Give it another go? I'm your friend, and that should be a god damn axiom.

Remember how long we have known each other. All the times we have shared. Every memory and every moment. Our friendship now is archaic, it's developed by our past, just like we are. Every day changes us more and more; we grow and mature. I want us to grow together though, like two heads of broccoli. I'd rather us be analogous than nothing at all. Even though that was already slightly, okay majorly, implied.

You've affected my life, though. I hate to admit it, but it's true. You made my heart skip beats and made me do stupid, crazy, girly things. I'll never forget that. Maybe I seem austere now, but I'm not. Someday, maybe you'll make me that same girl I was in ninth grade. But up until that acme, we should stay friends.

You're aesthetic, did you know? To me, at least. I see you with arbitrating eyes, completely unbais. Do you see me the same? Or, have I mistakenly crossed the borderline?

Christ, I feel audacious and irregularly bombastic, but this is how I feel. The only way I can even begin to think of how to tell you how important this friendship is to me. And I'm not sure if you fully comprehend, but I want you to know that you are muy importante para mi. Those are my arbitrary feelings. I'm sorry if I offended you.

Maybe this will only be an abeyance...

'Where is my amulet
to ward this evil off my back?
This pain destoys me.
I close my mind,
shut out this world.
Spinning, I can only see you.
Don't leave this.
Don't leave me.'

July the Fifteenth of Two Thousand and Ten

Maybe it's just a crazy feeling inside me, something girly, something like fire. And I know that I have certainly lashed out at people. And that my ways of coping are random and bipolar. But what else am I supposed to do? I do not understand the way I feel, or what I can do. Everything I knew about life is backwards, twisted inside out and upside down. Where do I go from here, now that everything that was right is wrong? While A is Z and B is Y, I can not figure out what to do.

It isn't like this was easy for me to say. I didn't just wake up one morning and decide to do this. I don't think you did either. And I was upset about it. That's why it's been avoided for the past few days. I am still upset. I don't think you notice it though. Probably because I have turned myself a different character whenever I am around. With other people, it's like I'm on a drug-too happy and giggly for it to make sense. With you, I become a robot. I'm stuck on one-word answers. Everything is summed up.

Now, I have a dilema. One I never thought I would have to make. Everything was so black and white before all of this. Sometimes I just wish this had never happened, any of it. Yet, it did and neither of us can turn back time. So, how will this end? Not easily. No matter what I decide, it will be hard on me because I am so dang confused. ...Why did you do this to me?

'Face in my hands,
the darkness is warmth.
The smell of death creeps
luring me into its nausea.
Silence is my escape,
and emotions are like rockets.
My heart is one fire,
and my mind is ice.'

July the Second of Two Thousand and Ten

Wow. Out of every crazy thing I want to scream, every insane word I want to yell at you, every heart-breaking phrase, all I can say is wow. And that wow can only be summed up to the fact that I can not believe you.

You did not lie to me; as such, there is no need for me to forgive you. You just did not know what you were getting into, and you were too afraid to go on. I understand. I have been there before at that point. And this commitment is scary; I know.

But I can not will myself to forgive you for that. What kind of feeling person would? After everything we have been through, all the hardships, you can't say how you feel out loud?! YOU'RE PATHETIC. What kind of person does that? How heartless did you just become? I can not believe you are doing this to me.

Stop calling me pet names, then. Stop calling me love and deary poo. It's all lies, anyways. Don't talk to me. Don't give me rides anymore. You're...I don't even know what to say.

The ocean is cold.
I feel the water surround me.
Fighting to stay above,
but hatred pulls me beneath.
The water is warmer than this.

July the First of Two Thousand and Ten

Like I said before, the decision was already made. If you're reading this, it's probably out of confirmation, false hope, or pure curiousity. I cannot say that some of this was easy. Honestly, out of the three choices I had, it came down the most conflicting matter a girl should ever have to deal with. Who's more important?

You are amazing. Whether you believe it or not. Some people treated you wrong, but I do not see your flaws. You have always been there for me, and hopefully, always will be. You know who I am, and I know you. We are so close, people think we have some sort of relation. It makes me laugh. You are with me in spirit and soul, even when you are away. I love you.

You have known me for a while now. I remember how I met you. There was not an immediate connection, but when we found it-it was magic. I liked you so much then and I still do. You know I can not hide my feelings for you. I have shown them so many times. "I'm wearing the smile you gave me."

It's complicated between us. Has it not always been? I liked you, then you liked me... So complex. I admit, I have liked you constantly for the past two years. I have sacrificed what I should have been loyal to twice for you. The second time...was fun. But not enough.

I'm sorry. You know who you are. The first kiss means a lot to me. I will never forget ours. Just, someone else's was better. You know who you are. Happy almost monthaversary.

Honestly, I am sorry, though. I continuously lead you on and make you believe that you have a chance. And you do. Just not now. And with the way things have been, probably not for a while. I am sorry. Honestly.

'Light or dark,
my quest or my heart.
You are a candle.
Like oxygen.
My blood craves you.'

June the Twenty-Ninth of Two Thousand and Ten

It wasn't hard for me to sleep on my feelings. Actually, the best rest I've had in about a month was a product of last night. Was there anything different in what I consumed or what I did? No, but I did release my feelings, stop holding in so much guilt. As such, I could sleep. I told you that it was your fault.

By the time I awoke, I realized what my decision was. I knew what I was going to do or, at least, how it would be done. Or did I? I have a strange desire to do something a little more interesting-a sort of personal challenge really. Maybe that's just me trying to prove my diginity. Nevertheless, I crave trying out this new phenomenon; it certainly would be a change. And world, you should know that I do love change.

However, I will not be rash. My little Virgo girl would just melt into a puddle and slink out of my brain (which I'm surprised she hasn't done already), if I were to just act on impulse. Now, if you think this is impulsive, you are quite incorrect. I am waiting it out, mainly to see how things play out. If I could, I would wait a few months or so before making a decision, but unfortunately, I do not possess that kind of time. I'm going to weigh all the possibilites here, as I have before, until I can reach a logical decision.

I really want to prove to you that I'm not some lowlife. Because, as I finally said today, that's how you're making me feel. That as soon as I feel one way, I just become exactly how you've described me-practically a streetwalker. But I'm not, honest to God. I am a good person, and sometimes I make stupid decisions and I know I take advantage of what I have, but God! Don't you know that I've made this decision about five times and in all of them, except for one, have I made the right choice! Why do you undermine me so? Is there something I've done? I'm not helpless; I can do better than you make me out to be able to. I have much more willpower than I've shown.

All in all, I'm waiting until tomorrow to make a final decision. I need my notes from a while back, reminding me why I made my previous choices. They will help me decide whether or not whatever I'm doing will be successful. Don't worry, it's in your favor. :3

I follow you,
around the sun and back.
We start and continue,
rotating around happiness.
If I get lost in the dark,
I go my own way,
and then I find you.
My sunshine,
we are far away,
but never apart.

June the Twenty-Eighth of Two Thousand and Ten

Well, here we are yet again. It doens't feel any different this time either. Why is it that everyone keeps saying that word? I can't stand that word. I gets in the way and complicates everything, and basically makes me want to throw up. However, I am not so immature as to say that it sucks; I'd rather say that it was a complicating factor in the romantic field of life.

I have so many questions. Why can't I get over you? Why is it alwasys like this? What am I going to do? What's the truth? How do I feel? And none can be answered. It's always like this too. I'm never able to keep you, hold you close. Do I want to? Or are we destined to stay apart and watch the other from aways? This will never be easy. Every time it gets like this, my life becomes a spiral into nothing-ness. I thought we tried before. It didn't really work. Was that a try at all? And oh...what about him?

Will someone hit me in the head? My hesitation is a clear sign from above, or in my head, meaning my Virgo. I know that this will not end well. It never has. I keep running back to you, even when I shouldn't be running away. I need to sit down; I'm tired of playing these games. I know that this is bad. I know it.

Seperate. We need to be apart. Maybe a day without the other, not a word spoken between. Then, may I sleep at night? Will my heart stop beating so hard? And my last request, is can I stop feeling so angry? At myself, at you, at the world, and most of all at my feelings. I can't believe I've led myself in a circle for the billionith time. Why won't this just go away?

Are we meant to try? Are we supposed to have hope? There have been too many chances for us. We know too much. There wouldn't be a surprise behind the other person. What would hold us together? Duct tape? I doubt it's that powerful... I don't think is going to happen.

Oh, minister,
our confessions hit so deep.
Jagged rocks onto a gellatin wall,
we drive far.
We clash like waves beneath the ocean,
and the ominous gray clouds overhead.
The analytical sense of theory
with a instintual feeling of dread.

June the Tweny-Fourth of Two Thousand and Ten

Does anyone else sense irony? Today is the year of two, if we had lasted past one. If we had lasted at all. Today, I experienced nostalgia of our relationship past and realized nothing. If there were something new to shed light on, maybe there would be something else to think, but by this time if there's nothing new, there never will be. And such is life. I recall that we had the same teacher-Mr.Seeley. He was a fabulous English teacher and we both loved him, despite he constant teasing. "I became I teacher because it's the easiest way to torture students." Now, he's the irony, I saw him today. We chatted for only a minute; we were both on our ways to our various classrooms. He is still quite entertaining to chat with; I do miss his class. I saw the irony. And Dun would say that it was a sign and Matt and I should get back together. I will never take that bit of advice.

Yes, I was being rude on Tuesday night. It makes me sad to think that I had to show you that side of myself. Sometimes, I just freak out, snap, fall apart, et cetera. But I guess I was tired of putting up with it. I feel bad and everytime it gets mentioned, which it occasionally will, it puts both of us in a bad mood sort of rut. I need to mention now though, why I did this. On this day. Ironically. I told you because I don't want to lose you. I have learned so many things from my last relationship, especially the fact that the hardest thing to do is tell someone you like the truth. I don't like hurting people; it's my Virgo. Yet, my Carpricorn has learned. I broke up with him on Feburary 25, 2009 because I could not communicate with him. It was killing me to keep to myself and it came to the point where I could no longer self-sacrifice, or I would lose everything. Anyways, that's why I was so mean. I can't afford to lose you, so I had to talk to you. I had to tell the truth because without it, it would have come to the extreme of us breaking up. I wanted to our relationship the right way, and so I did.

You're not a Bhuddist. I don't think you understand. The past is in the past, but people use it in the future and it does effect the future. I know you're trying to put it behind us and move on to brighter days, but we might need to dwell on this a moment longer. I don't want this to come between us, like things have before. The accident on your day of birth still hangs over my head. I just wish I could wash all my mistakes away. But I'm not perfect, and neither are you. I just don't want you to use this against me; I can't stand another emotional hit.

A scented breeze runs through the trees;
it smelled of the sun and sand.
Like warmth and closure,
the wind surrounded me.
I closed my eyes from above the world
and watched the breeze fall away.
Yet darkness looms between us,
the world and me.

June the Twenty-Second of the Year Two Thousand and Ten

Could I say that today was any different than any other day I have managed to withstand? Probably not. Yet, I simply can not help but be over come with a great sense of understanding on the car rides home from school.

I realize now, that it is fear that paralyzes me. Self-concious fear. I, as a Virgo ascendent, can not withbear the chance that I may not be good enough for a certain situation. I am utterly shocked and appalled that I could not overcome this, seemingly childish, fear, and still I cannot. I am afraid that I will not be good enough, and as such, whoever watched me fail will immediately cast me off into the oblivion of their minds, never wishing to visit me again. With this, since I have lost so many friends within the past year, I worry that I might just collapse and implode from lack of words to say. Once a friend leaves, I'm afraid, it becomes a near impossible task to try to catch them again.

I feel a drum in my heart;
it is the beat of my life.
With each note,
I am one step closer to death
and one step closer to purpose.
The drum changes tunes;
each day is a passing song.
For I am only the Earth,
and only a rhythm of life.