i never want to be a parent

rather, i never want to be like my parents
which is inevitable,
or so i am told.

all i want is for you to swallow your pride for four seconds and provide me with what i really need.

i have food.
i have shelter.
i have clothes.

i know, i know, i know.
and i know you know i know.
i try to tell you i appreciate it but in this emotionally retarded family, it's a little difficult. hell, you should be able to relate - when the hell do you ever make yourself vulnerable to me?
why should i make myself vulnerable to you?

no, i'm not going to go around kissing your ass 24/7.
and when i'm having a shitty day, the last thing i need to hear is how ungrateful i am - funny how i'm such an awesome child when it's convenient for you, and such a fucking pain in your ass when it's not.
sound familiar?

if all you want is constant reassurance,
you shouldn't have become a mother.

hey, maybe you should have been born a dog, in that case;
even though you're already a bitch.

(disclaimer: i respect mothers. i really do. but not the ones who think the word "mother" translates directly into the word "perfect".)

nitro glycerin

getting rid of a bad friend is like removing a wart.

sometimes it is easier to ignore said wart and pretend everything's alright.
but every once in a while, it sends a sharp pain shooting into you,
that, over time, makes you resent that wart,
and also resent yourself.

and yes, it sucks to get removed.
it fucking hurts.

for a while you feel as though you can't do anything,
because you might hurt the area that is now missing the wart.

but eventually you get used to it
and you are able to move on.
slowly, at first,

but eventually,
eventually,

you are better off without it.
and it is worth it in the end.

power

i don't understand
what someone does
to deserve to be hated

and i don't understand
what someone does
to deserve to hate

but i think i know how it feels.
and it hurts.

strict

7:25am
get up and go for a jog with the beagle

8:00am
get back home and shower/get dressed

9:00am
breakfast and schoolwork

1:30pm
visit with my boy

and from there,
from there -
i'm free.

i need to stop being so hard on myself...
PFFFFFFFFAHAHAHA.
<3

breathe,
and nightie night.

new frontiers

i am so fucking scared that tomorrow things will turn out to be exactly as i picture them now,
and yet i am so fucking scared that tomorrow things will turn out completely differently.

i told my teachers i would be in class tomorrow.
it wasn't a lie, no, not at the time,
but it has become one.

it's official: i'm a nutter. a genuine basket case.
i'm fucking loopy.

but to those who know me like they should, i'm
"home sick".

sorry, folks.

i am so scared that they will give me a bedtime. i am so scared that there will be a literal "lights out" time and everything will be dark and i will be alone with myself with nothing to do but wish that i wasn't so anxious so i could sleep - which of course will only make me more anxious.
fuck.
i'm supposed to be up in 4 hours.
how can i get up if i am never down?

oh, but i am always down.

i know i have to go into it with an open mind.

open eyes,
open mind,
open heart.

i know, i know.
just breathe, i know.

i need to pack. i haven't yet. i did laundry but i haven't even started putting together the books i want to bring. i want to read a lot of books. i like reading, but i never have time for it.
how sick is that? or maybe it isn't. i don't know.

most of all, i am so fucking scared
that tomorrow they will give me a spork.

who the fuck wants to eat with a spork?
a nutter, that's who.
fuck.

strings please

i just want to listen to violins
forever

cranberries

today i decided
i give up

i just want to watch without having to participate
which is hard to believe since i am never on the sidelines
but there you have it

i am tired
and i feel like i weigh 2000 lbs and yet
someone could still snap me like a twig

maybe if i could just end it in a way that i could still watch over things,
you know?

i wish i believed in heaven,
because yes, i'm pretty sure that is what i'm describing.

away from home

"That sinking feeling, so strawberry sweet
Summers gone by, and left me with cold feet
Sandals in autumn pinken my toes
Chill me so warmly, like nobody knows

Holding your hand, our fingers like spiders
Hiding my smile so you’ll guess what’s inside her
Keeping real quiet so nobody hears
Thoughts of the daybreak, those young lover fears

When it hurts, baby run away
Off to the city streets to play
And if it’s hard, baby you’re okay
It won’t be forever, no just for today

Carving out cardboard homes for the weak
Roses and lilacs held up to my cheek
One man’s trash, another’s is gold
Baby, you gotta last for your story to be told

When it hurts, baby run away
Off to the city streets to play
And if it’s hard, baby you’re okay
It won’t be forever, no just for today

Smile for me, my ticket is yours
Train’s heading out with half-opened doors
When it hurts, you’re lost and found
Home is always all around

When it hurts, baby run away
Off to the city streets to play
And if it’s hard, baby you’re okay
It won’t be forever, no just for today

When it hurts, baby run away
Off to the city streets to play
And if it’s hard, baby you’re okay
It won’t be forever, no just for today

That sinking feeling, so strawberry sweet
Summers gone by, and left me with cold feet
Sock-feet in winter, isn’t it strange
I get some coins but I never get change"



-
sometimes i like to write a song
and pretend other people will hear it

and oh the songs they'd hear.

who you are

"in the light of the sun
is there anyone?
oh it has begun

my dear, you look so lost
eyes are red and tears are shed

this world you must've crossed
you said

you don't know me
you don't even care
oh yeah

she said
you don't know me
you don't wear my chains
oh yeah, yeah"

did you know?
i am trying, trying so hard
but did you even know?

and to be honest, i don't give a shit about what you're going through
because how am i supposed to give a shit?
you won't let me.

and i refuse to believe that you don't know that i'm trying
i refuse

because you're not an idiot, and i believe in you enough to know that
even if sometimes maybe you don't

i know that you know
and i know that you don't care

so from here on out,
to the best of my ability,
neither do i.

honky tonkkk

come on now, i mean, really?
is it necessary that all those organizations who cry out for help, claiming that they're so underfunded have AGE RESTRICTIONS ON VOLUNTEERS?
i'm in high school, honey, i need 40 hours of volunteer shit before i graduate. and i have to be 21 to work at your god-forsaken charity which is BEGGING FOR KLEENEX IN ITS PARKING LOT?
oh but wait, wait... if i drop off my resume, you'll actually EMPLOY ME,
AND PAY ME TO BE THERE,
WITH THE MONEY YOU DON'T HAVE?

all these companies need to swallow the wad of cockjuice stuck in their throats and fucking get minors to volunteer. bullshit.

in short, child labour: all in favor say i.

thirsty

no work please, no
just put on the television to buzz in the background
while i feign conversation
(or as much of it as you can feign while not face to face)

ohhhh dearie me

so much to do
so many excuses

(for when "so little time" just doesn't seem to fit)

dot

all the things you wish you were
and yet you do not wish yourself perfect
no no, the opposite in fact
you wish yourself broken

all i want to know is

why why why why why why why why why why why why

please

just

how

could

why

.

km

being told you aren't good enough for the role you were assigned,

just a high school play, or is it life in general?

ahahahahahahahahahahahaha

what am i talking about,
sometimes i

wonder.

slowly

i am finding myself more and more willing to defend myself
i am finding myself more and more worth defending

for making you want to vomit

when my hands are cold from j-walking at 3am in the morning
(when sometimes it really feels like it's the last straw)

and there's this image that won't get out of my head
and it's the glass table in my kitchen
and it's me, and it's

i want my prozacs in a line and i want to take 14 of them
and leave the rest there
and die with my face pressed against the glass
as if i never actually got to the rest

and maybe it's because not only am i not good enough to be what i want to be
but i'm also not good enough to be what i thought i would be stuck being

"us against the world"

and maybe it's stupid because all i wanted was a fucking sweater
but maybe it's stupid because i can't do the things that every other normal fucking human being can do
all i know is that it's stupid

and i'm sorry
i am so sorry

that a pinky swear is not good enough for you
because that's all i have to offer

and frankly, i am tired of contracts
because none of them are ever binding

i have tried

i would make the shittiest night light ever

because all i want to do is go out

i don't want to shine for you

i don't even want to try

because i would be the kind of night light

that flickers as you walk past

right when you need me the most

and you would see the ugly shadows i create

when i let my imperfections get the best of me

and my light would be that dimmer sort of yellow

that makes everything look eerie

and in the night i'm sure you'd rather have someone bright

to keep you safe on 3am trips to the bathroom

maybe with me you'll fall and break your neck

i'm kind of careless like that

and sometimes even though i convince myself that i am trying

i know deep down that i am not

i have no excuse, i don't even run on batteries really

i am constantly plugged in

and still i cannot do it

so in the end you're really better off buying a new night light

because it would be safer for you

and it would cost you less

and who the fuck feels sorry for the night light

except the night light itself

who is mostly just sorry for you.

the heat in the back of my eyes

it's a warning that i will yet again ignore
you think you get stronger, you think you get smarter,
but you don't.

you just get better at telling yourself
the same old lie.

and what i really want to know is,
am i the only one who is alone?

because if i'm not,
like everyone keeps trying to tell me,
then why are we not all alone together?
i just want to be alone together.

i didn't think i was asking for the world.
i used to believe in my intentions.
i didn't think i was asking for much at all,
but apparently

it is too much for me.

and in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make,
but how do you start?

i have nothing.

and it's a familiar place to be,
so maybe that's alright.

but sometimes,
just sometimes,
i really, really, really, really,

really

really

really

know it's not.



"if only we were..."
"i know. but we are what we are."

what we are.

oh, now i get it

it's about 3am texts from boys you want to touch,
telling you to look at the moon.

("brothers on a hotel bed"
- death cab for cutie

see what i see:
someone dies and in the end she's sitting alone on her bed, looking as though she's about to cry
cue that slow, sad piano

and when the beat comes in, she laughs
bittersweet and contrary to what she feels like doing

but in the end, still right.
<3)

rhubarb

all the cracks in the walls just wanna be spiders
like all of the dreams that grow old inside us
and never become what our dreams dream to be
like the cracks in the walls, dreaming spiders-to-be

it's 5:51am, i have not slept tonight
i want to go for a run

and i work in 8 hours
let the countdown (meltdown) begin. <3

fghjk sad something i dont know this haven no cha

Now I know whyu we’re trapped insirde our fucked up on that one bujt its always one step behind and I;’m falling asleepe oput of chair snd I cant even bhit thje buttoins fast enougbh this is just one huge runonce sentence and bthat’s where the l;anguage comes in again it’s like an intervention on myself trying to CONVIONCE MYSELF THAT IT’S WHAT I WANT TO DO EXCEPT LOOKING AT THIS TOMORROW I’LL STILL HAVE JUST BEEN HIGH AND THEREFORE NOT WORTH AS MUCH TO YOU AS BEFORE BUT WHO ARE YOU, ALWAYS WLAWYAS EVEN THOUGH EVERYONE AROUND ME IS WORSE AND I’;M THE STAR OF IT BUT I HATE TO ASSUME SOMETHJING LIKE THAT BECAUSE I DON’T WANHT TO BE THE INLY ONE, ALONE JUST FUCKIN G I DOULCB HAVE DON E IT APPARENTLY HR’D HUGE BUT THAT WOPRSE SO GROSSS IN JUST CUFT OUT SHIT NOW I SOUND LIKE A TROLL out of ww lol I was opn capo that wehole time omg I wanna watch a movie3 now but therwe are spiroder cdown whenrr I cow3ldb eatb inbe mabe but idk kif that’\s ust me trying to be girlier by beibng afraid f spiders when I’m not snakes just popped in and said something but I don’t remember nowww lmao faceb oooook nbo hi guys omg fml anyway I make so nesen and I meant no sense but who the fuckg am I trying to clarify that to bnecause I’;m onmly talkiogn to me unless there wee people here fueldin g teb basd dtaste in mny moiuyth which reminds me spinnibg I the kitchen spinning asnd eating peanutbutyter and being hih. Wow my hand s are thing I’m gross oh my gopd I’m ro0ttting away like a bo e I’m dry crying again it’s like I just cant get OFFFFF but my eyes and not okay casnt say that but why because I do9n’t want to be what I feel like which is what they were talking about the whole time and somehow I’m invo0lved and I cant tell which way it is because matybe she felt the way I did and that’s why and I’m so selfish exce3pt she’s platying but she’s must be so hutr but then I thyink that I cant assume that because then I assume that i\’mn more charitable than I am and there is ahair in my eye and I hste this song and text pho e calls fuck fuckf ukc money hair and phon e phone phone no I’m not, but I want tro see omg first comma writing writign don’t think about the phones you can’;t su;pport yourself’s you’ren all bones and fallinbg over moneyb andn did you answer it idk cant even tell I love this song bit seruously that could have beenlike a killer omg THE GUNSHOTS fuc kkkkk wtf evertythjing ix betting so gabgy but wow I dsounds old iof you wanna love mwe I need to go liedown without you, so fuck you and fuck hyairrrrr it’s always in ym afceeeee and I don’t mean that in the dirty way exceprt that makes it sounmd even worse han what it is and why the fuck am I so weird for writing a;l; this down nbiobody has the eneergy to do this high so wtffff and none of i9t makes any sense

1113

TO PROVE HOW HIGH I AM I WILL TELL YOU HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO TYPE THIS CORRECTLY

11:24

Goodnbight l;adies and gentleme3nt.

ohhhhh

how, i mean seriously, what the
how could you even think to
how dare, fuck you!
how can you find it in yourself to
how, fuck, shit, you bitch! i mean really
how was there nothing better for you to do with your
how dare, how could, YOU, i hate
how, how, how, how, how

how dare you.

for lack of a better term,

fuck everything.

every time i do what i think is good and right it gets shoved back down my throat,
with sharp stones and thorns stuck into the sides of my would-be-good-deeds.

every time i stand up for what and who i believe in,
all i get in return is a moment of regret and disappointment.

that is, excluding the ever-so-slightly devastating moments of second-guessing what and who it is that i believe in.

after all, what's the point of making decisions based on a fleeting sense of pride when in the end you're overwhelmed by the striking sensation of not belonging where you thought you were needed the most?

the fact of the matter is, no matter how hard i try, i have nothing of my own to be involved in.
and no matter how hard i try, nobody wants me involved in their own things either.

sometimes i wonder if i wouldn't rather not exist at all,
instead of existing in a constant, complete, and utter loneliness.

but hey.
what choice do i have?

what choice do i have. ha.

i know, i know

i should keep better track
of the things that have lost track of me.

oh, hello there, one and all,
one and all of the things that i am not a part of, no.

not anymore, not anymore.

THE MALL

CLOSES AT 5 ON SUNDAYS

GET OUT OF MY STORE

everything

i have destroyed it.

the straw that broke the camel's back,

the whore who gave and won't get back,

oh dearie me!

can you say that on the internet?

on the internet.

rest in pieces

i am an organ donor.
every part of me will be off to somewhere different when i die.

every part of me.

i didn't want to donate my heart,
but my mother guilt tripped me into giving it away.

i wonder if that's how?
how i will give it away?

maybe i will be the same in death as i am in life:
never wanting to give my heart away.

hero

know what i'm thinking about right now?
what to wear tomorrow. which is stupid, because no matter what you look like, you're always the same thing.

i am easy as pie.

it's good to know that the most valuable part of your existence is your body.
and it hurts.

fuck everyone who ever tried to make me feel like i mattered.
fuck lies.

michael jackson just died, and suddenly all the reports of child molestation are melting away.
hm, mysterious.

here's some food for thought:
i will only ever get a good fuck from a bad guy.
yeah.

more like crude for thought.

everyone likes michael jackson better now, see?
you always matter more once you're dead.

overwhelmed and underdeveloped

so i have not written in ages and i have to admit that it's because i don't know where to start, and it's not even a matter of having too much or two little because it's a matter of having both, when the line between the two is too blurred to see clearly anymore.
oh, i am going blind.

i'll likely not make sense to anyone but those to whom i refer directly in this entry. bear with me, bare with me.

i cannot find a single person who wants more to do with me than that. bare.

12:59: you're a babe.

sometimes you fall so low that even the people you love the most start disbelieving you when you tell them that you are what you are.
i'm sorry. you are not what you say that you are.
i refuse. i refuse. i refuse.

i wish i could force someone to take care of themselves, but i suppose that's pretty well what it means to take care of them instead. oh well.
this is what i would like to say, but i can't find the right moment,
you know: one that won't kill us both:

"the old you kept their commitments. when they said they were going to do something, they did, and it was because they cared more about themselves and the people around them. i know you're having a rough time with you right now but please, please, please, don't take it out on me. i can't handle it. and maybe i'm part of the problem, but just let me know. don't tell me you'll do something if you aren't going to do it. you know how i am about that. don't tell me you'll meet me somewhere if you're going to sleep through the alarm. maybe you don't hear it all the time, but hear is another alarm i want you to hear: you're scaring me. i won't give you an ultimatum: i will always be here, so please don't think i'm attacking you. but you know yourself better than anyone else does so stop trying to play dumb when you make a commitment and bail 'by accident'. i know you don't mean to, but i also know that you're not an idiot and chances are you can see the pattern you've created just as well as i can. you don't have to be with me. you can stay at home and sleep if you really want to. but let me know. i want you to hold true to all your commitments - even those you've made to yourself. prioritize and decide. i am behind you always. always. always."

i've set an alarm for 11:11. is that cheating? hm.
my wishes are invalid; maybe that's why they don't come true.

"hello, young lovers, whoever you are,
i hope your troubles are few,"

i want to sing. but i am sung too often.

sometimes i fool myself into thinking that things will get better.
but better is only the time during which you wait for things to get worse.

i love you.

i am lost

i think the difference between my life and a fairytale is that i'm not standing in the middle of everything saying,
"this never happens to me!"

i'm standing on the outside of everything saying,
"that never happens to me."



annnnnd,
i continue to disappoint.

give me direction.

watch out, world

i am learning sign language.

so even the deaf can hear me roar.

go station bathrooms

i read graffiti.

"just got kicked out of my house. :(
...
two weeks later:
nah, everything worked out"

and below it:

"hey, you know what? shit always works out."

(there was also a drawing of a yeti who was apparently there to watch you pee, but it was significantly less inspirational.)

on the downside:
i have yet to find a toilet seat in toronto that is not already moist when i sit on it.
yeah.

scoooooby doo

you know how they say that animals know when there's something wrong?
my cat has been following me around since i got home... i didn't know anything was wrong, but hey, why ignore the signs, right?
and yes, i checked his food dish.

(is it sad that i would sooner assume that he is hungry than assume that he loves me?)

by the way, please don't tell anyone about this (after all, it's only the internet), but my heart is beating faster than it has in days,
not including yesterday,
which doesn't count
(seeing as how it's not included).

i can't even punch in numbers on a keypad right.
1:38

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

and they burst anyway, so fuck fixing that one.

i keep seeing shadows in corners when i am most definitely alone.

...

i am most definitely alone.

stuck for words

"i WILL save you!"
"I DON'T WANT TO BE SAVED."

...

"i see no savior here."

ha

you don't get it at all, do you?

that was the only opportunity.

the only time
that i will ever be that vulnerable.

and you don't get it.

i know you love her.

but for one second, i didn't care.

and that's when you hurt me the most.

(these are the repercussions of not caring:
i asked for it i asked for it i asked for it)

done

one step at a time,
i am getting closer.

thankkk everything that ever was
for perseverence.

stiletto

the degree to which i have somehow managed to be sunburnt is absolutely astounding.

i am pale as a ghost,
but i guess if i'm still getting burnt,
i'm not there yet.

... trying to dress up nicely when you're red as a cherry is a difficult task indeed.

i continue to impress myself
in all the wrong ways.

ban

"i just don't want to run out of gas."
i am running out of gas.

do you even read this anymore?

i get heavier every day, and still more fragile.
i want to break. i have before, and let me tell you:
it was glorious.

oh please oh please oh please oh please -

11:12.

all you need is love

all you need is love

all you need is love, love

love is all you need.

please

realize how beautiful you are.
everyone knows it but you.

<3

trip

i always fall for the people who fell for me ages ago,
but by the time i hit bottom like they did,
they'd gotten up and dusted themselves off.

i have terrible timing.
and terrible luck.

i'm still not catching 11:11.

and sometimes i forget it's even there.
i can't see the back of my neck...
hm.

oh...

dashlit: i only just remembered you.

i should be doing homework but i have curtains on the floor and a new clock on the wall,
one that ticks so i can finally hear the time i waste as it goes.
(please note: i mean that in a good way.)

i keep messing up my medication, so forgive me for being bloated.
i know it's a sin nowadays, so just keep your pants on for a little bit, until it passes.

or, you know, take them off.
essentially it's what it means to be dashlit.

baby hairs

please, join me in the revolution.
take off your evil glasses,
and stop seeing people as monsters.

i don't hang out under your bed,






most of the time.

shine

i have no right to judge whether your actions are right or wrong.
you are whatever you allow yourself to be.

where are we

i make a lot of mistakes,
but i don't spend time regretting them.

you see,
it doesn't mean i'm not sorry.
it doesn't mean i don't care.
it doesn't mean i don't know.

it just means that i am trying to look forward to the time when i will finally get it right.

i am trying, i promise.
and i'm not getting it right just yet, and i know that.

but i will not give up.

i am making that promise to you now,
since i have already made it to myself.

limbo

you're adorable.

any minute now,
any second,

something interesting will happen to me.
it has to.

oi oi oi

"you gotta love
walking home alone in the dead of night
because no one cares enough to see you make it home alright
it's true:
the world goes on without you."

i'm so tireddd!

analysis

i don't think it's necessarily that i'm fake,
but if people are allowed to tell little white lies,
then i suppose maybe i'm alright.

if the truth hurts too much, bottle it up:
a little white lie.

if the truth hurts too much, bottle it up:
a little white me.

ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

if i am like this all the time, how can you argue that i'm fake?
if i am like this all the time, this is me.

so where is your basis for comparison now?

oh no

it's that burning feeling in the bottom of your throat
the sinking of your stomach like a hole in a boat
the feeling so familiar that you always forget
when suddenly you realize you are someone's regret

what have i doneee

caesar

i want a white cat named rabbit
i want a siamese cat named julius
i want a mau cat named baby

or maybe a turkish angora cat nameddd
oliver.

hello

no matter what they say,
no matter what they do -
no one belongs here
more than you.

going going gone

i'm scared that i'm okay.

god i love this band.

today was a good day.

one hand

i haven't checked for updates in a while and to find what you wrote for me made me feel two things:
1. happiness (thank you so much, i love you to death)
2. guilt (i've been selfish lately)

you are such an incredible friend and i hate to think that i make you feel bad about your own problems. mine are no worse than yours! they can't even be compared, they're just too different and i'm sorry for being so absorbed in my own shit lately, honestly - i haven't been paying attention to you and that's not fair.

arguments? shitty, but natural. they happen and they can't be avoided and they're not your fault! (it takes two to tango, ahah)

YOU'RE NOTHING CLOSE TO FAT. you already know i would kill for your curves woman!

ringette? fuck them! they cut you off because of one bad day? their loss - make them regret it! i know you will.

you're strong. and you have friends who will BE your strength if you need it.
trust me, i know - i'm one of them.

just keep telling yourself:
"i think i can, i think i can, i think i can."
and eventually you will.

you think you can? good.
because i KNOW you can.

(on a side note: things have been weird, i am sore, typing with one hand is a mission and i miss sports. also, this is probably the realest blog i have ever written. haaa)

csi: ny

hello everyone who reads my blog in order to use it against me...
ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

i broke my collarbone... again.

irony is a bitch:
it would be my luck to actually have a good day for the first time in a long time
and then get broken.

you know that mood you get in where things start to suck so bad you just laugh at yourself?
yeah. yeah that one.

i am not meant to be happy, i have decided.
because if it isn't emotional pain, it's physical pain.

but at least now i know what to expect.

we are all so fucking predictable.

the clock on this thing is wrong

it's 11:04
and i am going to bed in 6 minutes, 11:10
so that i'll be dreaming by 11:11.

"a dream is a wish your heart makes"

please come true please come true please come true

what is that saying from? cinderella?
i don't know.

i have forgotten


















everything.

french

i actually feel guilty
every time i get a little happier.

"i miss you so much."
"thanks."

hm.

change

today i realized that i really do love and miss sports.

today i realized that buying new makeup and dressing myself up when i get home does make me feel better.

today i realized that my mom has been on anti-depressants for years... back when she hadn't remarried... back when it was just the two of us.

(this is the part where i beg someone to tell me how to not feel responsible for that)

never fear, though:
i took my first prozac today.

raw

i have been watching a lot of stand-up comedy lately
and aside from that doing not much else.

i called in sick to work today.
i told them i had a flu bug, but i think we all know better.

i want to laugh at other people's problems,
but i know better than that.

i'm sorry.
i am trying to be considerate. i really am,
but i don't care about your problems.

hell, i don't even care about mine.

(sometimes i feel guilty when i laugh
because people tell me i'm depressed and i agree
but then i just feel hypocritical

...

am i stealing your spotlight?)

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".

dig deep

why is it that no one has any patience for all the people in the world just trying to do their jobs ?

we're all caught in the net, people.
we're all playing the game.

everyone has a job that they hate that they do to get money, which they spend at other people's jobs that they probably hate and it all runs around in circles until it gets back to where it started from.
we're all going through the same-shit-different-day sort of daily routine, so why why why is it that we all treat each other like shit ?

it's absolutely astounding to think that these grown women, ADULT WOMEN, who are supposed to know better, can walk into my store and when i say to them,

"hi there, how are you ? can i help you find anything today ?"

i get the snippiest fucking look, like HOW DARE I offer my assistance ?
HOW DARE I do my job ?

even worse, i mean HOW DAAARE I greet poor you with a smile that doesn't falter, even after you cut me off with your snippy little response and your high-and-mighty gaze that goes right through me.
after all, what right have i to be treated like a human being when i'm being paid to exist in the place i'm existing at the moment.

i just don't understand why, if we all hate our jobs, we all have to make it worse on one another.
yes, it is my JOB to serve you, but it is BY NO MEANS my fucking birth purpose, lady.

TREAT ME LIKE WHAT I AM.
LIKE WHAT YOU ARE.
LIKE WHAT WE ARE.

human. fucking. beings.

i am so angry i cannot breathe.
there is no such thing as togetherness.

pressure

i think that in japan they sweep the sidewalks more than we do here.

fast food joints are a wonderful representation of the society we've created for ourselves today.
drive-thru.
never mind the clearly empty walk-in section of KFC, let's listen to the stranger serve us through the machine instead.
"hello, how can i help you?"
often repeated multiple times because machines are just another thing we've created to get in the way of true communication.
nobody takes the time to step out of their car, walk in, order, and make small talk anymore.
why?

we are a nation of people who can't look each other in the eyes.

it takes about 4 seconds to cut up an apple.
hm, 4 seconds i don't have.

i am behind in history.
i am behind in english.
i am behind in philosohy.
i am behind in laughter.
i am behind in friends.
i am behind in sex.
i am behind in love.

i am behind in everything except drugs,
and that was an accident.

i keep telling myself if i eat better, clean up my body, you know,
everything else will fall into place.
well,
i think i'm starting to realize that everything's "place" seems to be all around me, on the floor.

i wish i was japanese.
the only sidewalk related passtime i have is stepping on the cracks.

foreign

"i'm just trying to figure out whether i'm ugly on the inside or ugly on the outside."
"maybe it's neither."
"maybe it's both."

honey, i'm home.

i don't think i can explain what it is to be "spiderfruits", but that's me.
i mean, i could explain it in parts, but as a whole,
hm, i don't know.

well, the spider bit obviously came from the phrase i decided to use for the title,
which came from a very high night with ms. mary jane and a whole lot of time alone... it was my facebook status and my "irl" status and my ceiling caved in a little bit that night.

... i just scraped my nailpolish off.
new coat, new coat.

the fruits bit? i don't know.
no. idea. whatsoever.

but i suppose when you put them together, like some sort of sick, weight-in-the-belly kind of catch-phrase, what it really means is that i'm like a fruit for most people: they see me on the outside and then when they take a bite they see the nest inside.

my soul has eight legs, people.

i think i know which kind of ugly i am.

the weather network

on a scale of 1 to 10, please tell me where i stand.
10 being "happy",
and 1 being "in love".
please.
i just want to know why they're always on opposite sides of the scale,
when everyone keeps telling me they coincide.
guess you gotta have ups to have downs
hm hm, darks and lights
hm, life and death.

i just don't want to be trapped in the middle anymore,
torn in two.



like a butterfly

floating in a

hurricane

... whoooooosh.



(i just finished my supported opinion paper now, and boy does it suck.)

last but not least

i am leaving tomorrow morning,
and i wasn't going to post how long i would be gone for,
but i just realized how happy i am that it is not forever.

also, mary jane is my best friend:

"feeding myself with objects chosen solely for their texture
each granola scrapes a little bit of me away
'cause I wanna know what it feels
like to have made an impact on this place
i have had 9 fortune cookies
the first told me I would succeed in business
the second had no fortune
or maybe it was the most realistic fortune of all
sometimes I think the world really does revolve around me
or maybe I revolve around it
since it never seems to me that I’m a part of it
that's why sometimes it hurts too much to try to adapt
as soon as you're used to it
you won't be used to the lack of it
and adapting only means to
attach
and I'm sorry
but that is wrong
and I lied to you back then
because I only had 5 fortune cookies to begin with
and I can't even get past fortune number 2
i don't want my fortune anymore
if I know what it is I know I'll only want to avoid it
is this how it feels
to want to die
i think of you
...
i feel like i should change this every time anything ever happens
because fortune cookie number 3 didn't have a fortune either
and in my haste to check for 4
i think i peaked
and i'm going to regret this in the morning
even more than that other time
but
EXCELLENT TIME FOR DUSTING. START WITH A FEW OLD DREAMS"

see you in five days.

also: singular syllables

what i want right now is to be loved by all the souls on earth, and for my life to be as full of joy as i dream it is at night.

what i want right now is to kiss the palms of all the weak and small and hurt and lost,
and make all the wrongs of "us" flow by like the stream you knew as a child but did not swim in,
for fear of what you could not see.

what i want right now is for all the youth to laugh as one and wave at all the fools who went to war.

"no more death, please."
we will say.
"we will live to see the end."

"what the fuck IS good enough for you?"

nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing

i would ever share with you.

simple minds

honestly, i would donate blood if it weren't for the slogan:
"give a little, get a lot."
it just sounds greedy.

i work in retail, and the thing about working in retail is that it sucks. why? because not everyone works in retail. and people who don't work in retail don't know how much it sucks to work in retail.
seriously, five minutes to close and you wanna march right into my store? the music is off, the door is half closed, we're counting the cash in the register, i mean really.
give me the address to your office. how about you work a 9 - 5 shift and i'll storm in at 4:55 and toss all your paperwork and shit around the place and ask you to discuss my finances with me. better yet, how about i make a fuckin' mess of your shit and then leave without saying a word or actually doing any legitimate business with you? deal? deal.
but ignorance is bliss, huh?
yep, take your time. enjoy your private shopping spree, at the expense of those of us who have been on our feet for eight hours at a time and would like to go home and write an entry in their blog about your idiocy.

... is that just me?

i accidentally cut myself at work today, and when a toddler saw my blood, he started to cry.
his mom tried her best to shut him up and i went to get a band-aid, but i just kept thinking
"why don't we all share our pain like that?"
then i put on the band-aid to cover the cut and thought
"oh."

later the woman started arguing with her friend over who got to buy a hat that there was only one of.
the kid kept saying, "you guys can share it! why don't you share it?"
but the adults ignored him.

ignorance is bliss...

"give a little, get a lot."
the mindset of a nation.

death by bellyflop

sometimes i fall for no reason.
there are no stairs involved, no stones in my path, no no.
i'm just a clumsy sort of person i suppose.

or maybe i was born to be a spectacle:
people like to tell me i'll be big someday. well, maybe my name will go down in history,
for falling

or something

maybe

i guess people have gone down in history for stupider reasons.

seriously, rudolph?
get out of here.

come to think of it, i really don't ever trip.
i only fall.

literally, over nothing.

metaphorically, over words.
shit.

i don't want to fall anymore.

i don't want to fall
for you.

ps,

love always remains.

the youth are starting to change

did you know that the average person spends about two weeks of their life waiting for traffic lights to change? now you do.
they tell you knowledge is power, but really, some of this shit is kind of useless.

i love meeting happy drive-thru workers. pleases and thankyous are so underrated everywhere else, but i swear when i hear them through the shitty speaker at mcdonalds, i ponder the meaning of everything that ever was. if only every polite, underpaid teen could make me feel like that.

profound? hm. prolost. hmmmmmmmm.

my computer makes my music skip, but lately i've been listening to such weird stuff that i can't tell if it's supposed to be there or not.
clearly, that one wasn't. shit.

oh yes, i won first prize in the "stupidest person alive" contest today.
you have to celebrate the small victories, i suppose.
i'm still training for the "stupidest person ever" contest.

i think i can i think i can i think i can.

"you deserve better than that."
really? because sometimes i wonder.

disregard that last post

it means about as little as this one will.

i'm supposed to be writing a supported opinion paper on the development of mesopotamia. to be honest, i really don't have any opinion on mesopotamia at all, nevermind a supported one. that's probably why they supply opinions for you:
1. mesopotamian societies developed many aspects of western civilization that we take for granted today.
2. geographic influences were integral to the succesful development of mesopotamia.
3. the single most important factor in spurring social change is warfare.
the one i agree with the most is number three, really, but i have no facts to support it so i went with number two.
i don't even know what it means to say "geographical influences".

i wish you were supplied with opinions in more areas of life.
i wish i didn't have to write 500-600 words right now.

hell, i can do it easily here, can't i? i can type forever and ever and never get tired.
okay, okay, i'm tired.

why should opinions have to be supported with facts? opinions are opinions for a reason: they have nothing to do with facts.
next thing you know you'll have to support your feelings with facts. i'll be screwed, i can't even figure out what my feelings are.

then again, i'll probably have them supplied for me:
1. i love you.
2. i hate you.
3. do me.

does number three even count as a feeling?
support your arguments with FACTS.

through technology

hey now, don't get too comfortable.
sink too far into the chair and you'll never get back up.
get back up.
should have seen this one coming.
but enough with avoiding it. wait and reply.
should have seen this one coming.
shit. oh shit oh shit oh fuck oh shit oh shit.
are you happy or sad? figure it out.
figure it out.
wait and reply.
shit.

stupid girl.
get back up.

red nail polish

every time i paint my nails i get a print on them.
no matter how hard i try to avoid touching anything, i always end up with a sort of fossilized hair stuck to the paint, or a pattern of woven thread pressed into the grooves.
and it seems that every time i paint a new layer, fresh start, it only ends up worse off in the end. like if i happen to brush my nail on a blanket the first time, the second time i'll have a full-on candy wrapper stuck to my finger like some sort of crazy tinsel ornament.
and when i paint my nails, i get the color all over my skin. screw taking my time and doing it right, i'd rather mess it up, finish it, and scratch the dried red frame off my cuticles in the end. it makes about as little sense as it possibly can make, but i suppose there's some satisfaction in finally being able to say "i'm done now", especially once you've scratched yourself raw.
i carved a heart into my arm once, then ran a burnt-out match over it to try to make it stay. it didn't work, because i can't find it anymore.
sometimes i feel like the only way to prove that we're alive is to make a mark that hurts.
but mine never stay.

"i'm done now".