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...'