seratonin

the chemical name for
"happy".

am i the only one who is losing the magic here?

there's probably an equation for that too.

universe

it seems to me that the universe is a big black blanket over everything, older than time itself,
which is why you'll have to excuse the universe for having holes in it:
you know, stars.

the light shining through this vast fabric of darkness,
what a glorious, wonderful, beautiful mistake.

we don't always see the stars.
their light doesn't always make it here.
but they are there. we know that for sure.
and there is comfort in that.

so thank you, stars.

for shining through whatever tiny, unsuspecting gap you can find,
and showing me that there is more to this universe than blackness.

...

you are my star.
thank you.

i want to write a blog

but i have nothing worth writing about.

some lyrics

waking up is easier said than done.
i think i'll stay in bed forever,
'cause who would care, i'm hiding from no one,
'cause no one would miss me, but never say never.

i'm crying at nothing,
laughing at me.
waiting for something
worth fighting to see.

nothing comes easy,
nothing comes free,
nothing is simple,
i wish that were me.

and i don't mind right now,
but give me cause to grow somehow.
anything can happen,
but nothing ever does,
at least, not to me.

i feel like singing,
but i have nothing worth singing about.

getting out and finding your place somewhere,
i don't fit anywhere but here,
and i want to change, but how do i get there,
when everything's shrinking except for my fear.

i'm searching for meaning,
let it find me.
giving up feeling,
to let it all be.

loving comes easy,
loving comes free,
loving is simple,
i wish that were me.

and i don't mind right now,
but give me cause to grow somehow.
anything can happen,
but nothing ever does,
at least, not to me.

i feel like singing,
but i have nothing worth singing about.

let it all out,
but what does that mean?
what you're about,
what you've already been?

i have nothing to say,
good or bad, either way,
just let something begin,
'cause i'm wasting away.

and i don't mind right now,
but give me cause to grow somehow.
anything can happen,
but nothing ever does,
at least, not to me.

i feel like singing,
but i have nothing worth singing about.

i feel like singing,
but i have nothing worth singing about.

...

this started out okay, but past the first chorus i honestly became too focused on the "verse to bridge to chorus to breakdown" structure that this whole thing lost meaning.

i missed 11:11 again today.

thank you

okay, okay, breathe.

(inhale)

the sun will shine again.

and you are not alone.

(exhale)

i love you to death.

okay but really this time

things have been shitty.

and i guess that's what you get for tattooing 11:11 on the back of your neck and then missing wishing hour for days on end afterward, but hey.
all i do is fuck up anyway.

i miss people who do not miss me.

every time i'm away from my phone i feel so fucking anxious,
like i'll miss something so important,
miss someone so in need,
but then i remember:
nobody needs me.
ever.

seriously - who the fuck ever calls me?
fuck that.

you know the girl at the bar that guys only fuck when they're drunk?
i'm the girl on msn that guys only TALK TO when they're drunk.
now what does that tell you?

i always call the same person when i'm feeling sad,
and i feel fucking guilty as hell about it,
because i am sad
ALL THE TIME.

wow i'm annoying.
i am so, so sorry.

i sit on the phone in silence for hours,
and i don't make conversation when i should, when it matters,
and then when i do make conversation, the phone dies.

and if my conversation doesn't even matter enough for electronics to hold out for me,
like if it doesn't matter enough for this DEAD THING WITH NO HEART to be there for me,
who am i to tell myself that living things will give a shit either?

i am the laughing stock of everything that ever was.
"i've told you a million times: don't exaggerate."
and yes. i would like a boyfriend. fuck.

i just want you to know that despite all this shit,
i cry the hardest at the stereotypical teenage girl crap.

i just want you to know that i am trying to stop caring,
the same way everyone else has.

cheers.

i want it, i need it

(where is)

please pick up, please pick up, please
oh, yeah okay sure, can you tell her i called?
ahaha yeah, no, things have been good. great. how about you?
yeah. sorry for calling so late!
actually, you know what, just let her get to bed, ahaha yeah.
yeah, no, forget i ever called.
yeah. thanks!
bye.

(my mind)

you know that soft wind that comes from the back of your throat when you try to tell someone that things are alright when they are so very not?
yeah. yeah, that one.

i am going to share something that i should not share on the internet.
i am a 17 year old girl with blue eyes and brown curly hair.
i am pale, with a few freckles here and there, and other than a maybe-bigger-than-it-should-be nose, i don't think i'm really ugly or anything.
i weigh 115 lbs, and wear a 32d bra.

i just don't understand.

i sign on to facebook and have 10 notifications and they are all just other people commenting on other people's stuff that i happened to comment on.
why do they notify you just to tell you how popular other people are?

i just don't. don't. don't. understand.

i am trying to be a good friend, but honestly, you keep getting the things i want and there are only so many false smiles left in me, i swear.

here, have another twenty.

i just don't
oh my god i can't
i wasn't

why.

call me and tell me how much better you are than me.
like i needed a reminder.

ahahahahahahahahaha.

i went out to a movie with a friend
and accidentally left my cell at home
and came back three hours later to:
no missed calls.
no new text messages.

...

honestly, i would like to try to convince you that i am not a loser,
but at this point, i can't even convince myself.

i just don't understand.

prototype

2am, and i'm standing in the back parking lot of an elementary school.

puff, puff, pass.

the sound of the dead of night:
silence.

wait, scratch that, no.

the sound of the dead of night:
whistling, wind and cars, noise from all over.

it's so loud.
the sound of silence.

it's a strange sort of whispering noise that is recognized around the world as the sound of silence.
the SOUND of silence.
hm.

silence is supposed to be the absolute lack of noise, but no no, we've got it all wrong.
silence is the sound of noises from all over the world, every noise within a person's range, all collected together in such infinite amounts that we can't even recognize them as individuals.

too much sound:
that is silence.

puff, puff, pass.

happy earth day

everybody sing:
oh, look what we have done
look what we have done
what we have
done.



today i really wanted to delete that post about friends.
i decided against it - even if i don't feel it anymore, i know i felt it then.

i feel so alone. laugh out loud.

"it's not a joke."
"well it's still funny."

an obligatory post about friends

1. you are my stereotypical girl friend, minus any drama. i have never giggled so much in the presence of any one person, and i love you for that. i actually feel like i've known you forever. as cheesy as it is, i love that when i'm with you all we do is dress up, read magazines, and talk about boys. i needed this outlet. thank you so much.

2. i hate that i actually have to exert effort to avoid you. believe it or not, i will always think of you as my purest, most unfiltered friend - despite your hyper-sexuality. you live in the moment, for yourself and your passions. it drives me insane but i also envy you for it, and no matter what happens, it makes you you.

3. i worry about you. you are my go-to friend, and as much as i am glad to see you taking more time for yourself, i am also so sad to see you drifting away. you're so smart and logical and you really keep my head out of the clouds, which i have to thank you for. i hope you're alright. seriously. i am always here for you, just like you have always been for me.

4. you are the only one out of all of my friends who has actually full-out stood up for me. like yelling, bitching them out, completely unafraid-to-announce-who-my-friends-are kind of girl. i love you to death for that. i have never had anyone like that before. i hope i can be as strong as you are someday, honestly. i know it sounds cheesy, but it's the absolute truth.

5. you are SO MUCH FUCKING FUN, all the time! ahahaha i love you to death, you are so happy and outrageous and hilarious 24/7 and i have no idea how you do it. honestly, even when you're like sick and hungover you still have like 10 times as much energy as i do, i'm so jealous! ahaha i have never heard you say anything bad about anyone and i love you for it.

6. i miss you to death. i know things can't go back to the way they were but i honestly feel like they are worse than they have to be and i don't know what to do anymore to make it better. maybe you don't need me anymore, and that's fine, but i think i've come to realize that i need you. and maybe i've lost that privilege, but i still love you. i always will.

7. you're like my little sister. you stick by me no matter what, and as much as i hate to admit it, you're only ever mad at me for my own good. you're probably one of the few people who i feel like i will actually keep in contact with after high school - because i know you'll kill me if i don't! thank you for watching me grow - no. thank you for helping me grow.

8. i never see you anymore, but you're still probably the only person who has seen EVERY side of me... poor you, ahaha. i miss you like crazy - come home soon ! we have gone through so many phases together, made up so many worlds together... you inspire me. you're so strong (and stubborn) and i might as well just call you mother... ahaha. love you.

9. i will always think of you as my best friend simply because you're the first one i ever had. i don't know what to call us anymore, since we barely see each other or talk anymore, but for some reason i feel like i know that you'll always be there. hm. i hope you feel the same way about me, and if not... thank you for the memories. you're my friend of firsts.

...

someday i hope to have many more important people to write about than just 9.

here you go

let me explain my every action to you:

"i breathe to stay alive."

and the list goes on.

earth

some people hide their feelings in denial.

some people hide their feelings in hope.

some people hide their feelings in desperation.

some people hide their feelings in malice.

honestly, if you were angry, just say it.
don't be a fucking passive aggressive bitch about something that clearly we can't undo.
you think you're the only one who thought of this?
wake up, miss naivety.

everyone is trying so hard to be original,
but we all react the same.

guilt trip me.
harder.

rattlesnakes

graduate or die,
whichever comes first.

haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

i am les miserables.

i am a silly, silly bitch.

i am going to the movies
with irony herself.

nothing remains the same.
heave a sigh.

what i am going to write now:

i have never lost respect for someone as fast as i have lost respect for you.

what would i love more
than to introduce you to all my friends
and have you tell me how much more attractive they are than me?

what would i love more
than to have you mock my life
the same way you mock everyone else's
with your total ignorance to anyone's problems but your own?

what would i love more
than to listen to your problems
time after time, just hoping that maybe ONCE
you might ask me about my problems
and actually care?

ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

i'm not your best friend.
i'm your fucking match maker.

and in all honesty,
fuck that.

and fuck you.

what i was going to write before:

morally inclined:
i didn't call the cops, you know.
a life was about to be stolen - murder and theft - and i didn't call the cops.
those are two crimes i do not want to get involved with,
even if it is as the hero.

i want a tattoo that reads, "dashlit".
quotation marks and all.

do what you want,
take all you can.

ink

prayer works for some people, but not for me.
the thing is, people seem to take prayer for granted. it's become
too presumptuous, too expectant, too
false.

i catch the clock at 11:11 and i make a wish.
wishing isn't demanding anything of anyone.
wishing is just another word for hoping.

and since you don't expect anything definite to come out of hope,
hope can never let you down
the way prayer can.

i don't know if there is a god.
i wish. i hope.

it's all i can do.






april 15th, 2009 - i got a tattoo on the back of my neck
in bold times new roman font,
reading:

11:11

<3

metaphorically speaking, anyway

today i was informed that inside of me is a tiny ship, run by sailors who occasionally get a little rowdy and form a mutiny against the captain.
hm.

as soon as i heard the word "sailors", i of course thought of semen
which lead my little train of thought to a most mysterious stain found on my jeans when examined under blacklight.

what am i, a four year old?
why are you talking to me about pirates when i came to you to ask for advice about stress?

i am trying to take your analogy seriously. really, i am.
but in all honesty, if there are any sailors left on my ship,
they are probably all dead.

i am strange

tonight i saw someone's bedroom light turn on from across a field.
hello there, fellow soul.
do you know i know you exist?

everyone sees things from a different perspective, but i see them all.
i see yours and yours and yours.
am i the only one?

sometimes i think i am the least selfish person alive,
but then i realize what a selfish thing that is to think.

i love the smell of wood chips at midnight.
reminds me of meal-worms.

also, as my obligatory reference to nails:
i love the smell of spit on nails.
seriously, lick your fingernail, then wipe it off, then smell.
i have loved that smell for as long as i can remember, but i only just discovered what created it tonight.

spit on nails.

try it.

chase me

point the finger: i am guilty as charged.

for once i would like to ask: how are you?
-pause for realism-
i'm glad to hear it... (not that i really did)

children's toys at fast food places are the epitome of happiness, really.
the glee on a three-year-old girl's face as she rips open the plastic suffocating her eternally grinning new friend is all-consuming.

enjoy it while it lasts, sweetheart.

this is the only happy part of your life that will not be overshadowed by other thoughts and worries.
this is the only happy part of your life that will not be overshadowed by the past or the future.

after this, sorry honey, but there is no such thing as living in the moment.

sometimes i wonder if children aren't like fairies:
their bodies are so small that there is only room for one emotion at a time.

a particularly infuriating conversation with my forty-something stepfather taught me two things:
1. even grown men can be naive.
2. i am an optimist living in the REAL WORLD. which means that no, i don't think that the whole world will ever join hands together and sing and dance and be merry as one. but yes... i do think tomorrow will be a good day.

i haven't done any homework. uh-oh.

today a little girl at harvey's kept trying to hang up her coat, but she couldn't reach. she asked her father for help repeatedly, but he was reading the paper and barely heard her.
not that i can blame him - she had such a little voice that it must have been a wonder if anyone ever heard her.

i feel like nobody reads this, and i feel bad because there is one person to whom i am always reading my blog entries.
i just don't want to be another little voice that nobody hears.

watch your step

this one is heavy.

sorry i haven't written much lately. i feel like there has been nothing worth writing until now.
even now, it's debatable.

i'm now completely reliant on my laptop, seeing as how my computer decided to quit on me.
i am noticing a pattern emerging in my life.

1:03 am:
clue to where i live #1: today i went to tim hortons and ordered a tea. it didn't come in a roll-up-the-rim cup, but i rolled up the rim anyway. i think i won.

1:05 am:
god is a liar, but everyone listens to him anyway.

(explanation: you have religious group #1, who claims god has told them that they are the only right religion. then you have religious group #2, who claims god has told them that they are the only right religion. god as apparently also told these people to be just and good and tell the truth. therefore, if these people are listening to god and telling the truth when they say they are the only right religion, god must be lying. which is why i don't understand why people fight against each other instead of against god.)

1:15 am:
death is like crossing the finish line. i don't understand why people don't cheer.

1:16 am:
"i wish i had something amazing to say... but i don't."
"that was pretty amazing."

1:28 am:
i have never wanted to kiss anything as badly as i wanted to kiss the tears on your cheeks. never. but i waited too long and your hand got them first. i waited too long. they were gone.

1:44 am:
i thought i knew where i was, but then i started to doubt it. i sat up and checked and i was exactly where i thought i was, but i swear during that one moment of doubt, i was not where i was.

1:53 am:
i have never torn my clothes off faster than i did after you dropped me off at home. i just wanted to stop being the person i just let you see.

all of this, surprisingly sober. shout out to you, ms. wilson.

i discussed the meaning of life today, and decided it was "to live".
"then what's the point of everything? aren't i done?"
"you aren't done living until you die."

love and death are the only real things in the world.

scale of caring: (1 being low and anything above it being high)
1. sex
2. dating
3. love
???
i'm sure there is a bunch in between but i don't have the experience to know.
i can't even get to number one. ouch, holla back.

i am hungrier than you are.

i have learned not to be selfish anymore. for example, i no longer ask for basic human needs such as heat when i am cold. ha. ha. ha. ha. ha.
am i good enough yet?

i bit off one of my nails today.
i was doing so well until now.

i think the hardest part about a situation like this is trying to decide whether to cut the rest of the nails down to blend in with the shorter one, or to accept the bitten nail the way it is.
i think to leave things the way they are is to accept the fact that i am broken. uneven?

notice how much time i devote to finding metaphors on the tips of my fingers...

the short nail is on my right ring finger.
hm, looks like biting my nails is the one thing i do right... bad pun.

i got a text at 11:11 on april 11. i thought it was pretty neat and realized that in 2 years it will be 2011. and then on november 11th, it will be 11/11/11. and i'm going to do everything in my power to catch 11:11 on that day, the morning one, the real one.
i am sure that wish will come true.

in case you were wondering, the text was from some guy who thinks he's got it made talking to me.
everyone thinks i'm an easy fuck.
(just another way i let them down: gotcha! i have standards, haaaaaaa)

i left one out, you know:

1:43 am:
can't you read minds? i wanted you to kiss me.
maybe you can read minds.
thank you for saying no.
you are my nonsensical fuel.

a structural mess

please understand that i don't want to be given the chance to let anyone else down.
if you give me that chance, i will do it.
i promise.

"you are beautiful"
"i love you just the way you are"
"you are never alone"
"everything will be alright"
"i believe in you"
"you are stronger than you think"
"i am here for you"
"i am so proud of you"
"you amaze me"
"you deserve to be happy"

i am posting hundreds of these phrases around my school,
in the hopes that surrounding myself will help me believe.
i want to believe.

i had to try so hard tonight not to tear my fingernails right out of their beds.
biting my nails feels like robbing a grave.

i will be alright, i have decided, and nothing is going to change that for me.
deep breath, baby step, chin up and go.

sometimes i feel like a flower that was planted in the wrong place.
i try my best to be beautiful for somebody, but the people never spot me in my crack in the pavement, and the bees never bother with my far-away pollen. children go by making bouquets and i scream, "PICK ME!" but it is not enough.
i will never be in a bouquet.

you know, i wanted so badly to bite my nails today, and i didn't.
i left the red paint where it was and found a way to be strong.

i am done destroying beautiful things.

back off

loving someone is not enough, it never is.
so if you can't even do that, what is the point in trying?

leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone
please, just leave me, leave me alone, leave me
alone.

i cannot handle not knowing, not knowing anything.
i cannot handle not knowing what to call this.

"forgive me first love, but i'm tired."

i am exhausted.
no more, please, i'm too weak.

i feel like an old piece of leather
that used to be a part of something
and is not anymore
but instead is left
stretched and used
over a frame of something
that used to matter to someone

i feel like an old piece of leather
stretched and used
forgotten.

and i hope you notice my blogs slowly becoming less and less fluent
and less and less nice
and less and less interesting to read

... i'm sorry for letting you down too.

for the billionth time today

i am finally getting somewhere, maybe. i guess we'll wait and see.

i love putting greasy homemade muffins on paper and waiting for the oil to seep through. then i trace the dark spots on the pages and create little grease worlds with little grease continents where little grease people live out their little grease lives.
it's funny that something so "bad" for you can be so good.
after all, there is no such thing as little grease wars.

i cannot deal with reaching out for help and feeling guilty about it afterwards.
scratch that - during.

i know better than that.

i cannot deal with trying to explain myself over text messages and having my cell phone's screen read:

MESSAGE SEND FAILED.
OK?

no. not okay.
not okay at all.

ho hum

this is post number 7 for april, yes yes, lucky number 7, i suppose

except that my lucky number is 2 and i missed the mark on that one, didn't i

(i always miss the mark, but you already knew that)

lately i have been missing 11:11 more and more

i sometimes wonder if 11:11 misses me

ha

ha ha ha

hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

laugh away, little pinecone

i am the april fool









ps,
this is post number 7 of april and post number 21 overall
7 goes into 21 3 times.
therefore,
lucky number 7 times magic number 3 = a post about pinecones and april

... something tells me luck and magic cancel each other out.

everything

i am more stressed than i have ever been in my life,
and i can only blame myself.

i hate that i come across as put together when i am as fallen apart as anything in the world has ever been.

you think london bridge is falling down?
bring it on.

i am the little engine that couldn't,
i am the cinderella whose slipper didn't fit,
i am the big bad wolf who huffed and puffed and still the house withstood.

oh god oh god oh god
i need a mental health day.

i wish, i mean, i just, i can't, i want, i have, i know, but still
i let myself down with every waking moment.

honestly, i'm just waiting to let myself down in my sleep as well.

i am the most stoppable force in the world, and everything around me is an immovable object.

help me.

why hello there, mister

i am selfish, i am, i am

i am selfish, it's true, i am

i am selfish, so so selfish

but i am not alone.

just throwing it out there

i'm not a depressed person. i'm actually very optimistic, which, in itself, is sad.
there is always a silver lining, i know, i know.

but it doesn't make me invincible to sadness,
or alcohol for that matter.

you have to feel sad to know what happy is.
what's the point of laughing if you've never cried?
both are different kinds of pain, but when you really look, sometimes it's so hard to tell which is which.

i cry when i laugh.
... not that i ever laugh when i cry, but hey. that'd be weird.

i think that maybe the reason i sound so depressing all the time
is that i stare at the bright side for so long
that i go blind.

tinfoil

i want to be loved
even if it is just for my body
certainly not my face
or my soul for that matter
i am ugly all around
it has been decided
but at least i can say
i won't be alone in the end
in fact, i'll probably be

surrounded.

the alcohol tonight
might as well have been a self-destruct button.

jeans

" i have a rock in my shoe !"
"don't we all."

i just don't want to be the rock in your shoe.

angels

am i the only person who notices the complete inaccuracy of the phrase
"what a coincidence" ?
whenever someone says that, it never really seems to be a coincidence.

today in history i decided that i believe in a sort of prologue-to-life spin on reincarnation.
like, from the moment we die we are conceived. and then we live out short little lives as that incarnation's version of the "nine months", and it gets progressively longer as time stretches out until eventually we will live forever.

maybe i need a diagram. hm.

"let's just die young or let's just live forever"
it's nice to think that maybe i can do the one i want.
... not that i've made that decision.

i also decided to myself about ten minutes ago that i promise i will be somebody in life.
talking to the people i don't want in my life anymore is a real wake up call.

a warning to the young'uns:
as soon as you hit 17, you will think it's cool to not give a shit about anything.
as soon as you hit the floor, you will regret it.

it happens to everyone.

"what a coincidence".