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the fuck

I feel bad about not updating. Because, well, it is something that comforts me. I've been going totally fucking insane lately and I don't know why. Maybe it's because I haven't been expressing myself in any way. Apparently bottling things up is unhealthy.

All this nothingness is kicking my ass. The fact that recently my life has been completely devoid of anything new makes the old seem even worse. And, fuck, tomorrow is going to suck. I hate Sundays.

I guess more than anything I've been feeling manic. Like I'm a little hamster on those stupid wheels, running and running even though I have no idea why I'm doing it in the first place. And nothing ever changes. And I can't see anything ever changing. I feel like day in, day out, it's going to be the same. Nothing to look forward to but the weekends.

Sundays fuck me up. I hate them. I don't know why. I wish I could just sleep through Sundays. I really do.

And school is the most depressing experience ever. I'd do absolutely anything to get out of it. I really would.

And god, I hate everyone. I could stab the shit out of 95% of the people I know and not feel any remorse. Rather, relief.

That sounds awful. I don't know. I really don't. Hopefully this is a phase.

another quote

"Magic is everything that science hasn't made boring yet"

Hell, yeah

Happiness is..

Not having to work tomorrow.
Realizing something you love is being made into a movie.
Waking up with a Joker card stuck to your cheek.

I can't think of anything else.

play crack the sky

"and i wish for one more day
to give my love and repay debts
but the morning finds our bodies
washed up 30 miles west"

i don't sleep, i am exhausted
i do sleep, i am even more so

proof that our lord and savior jesus christ hates my guts

From time to time,

I lose sight of stuff that's important to me. And yes, I know, I demerit any sentence I pen (or type, but pen sounds better) by putting the word "stuff" in it, but I kind of like that. You know, deconstructing a perfectly good sentence with a word like "stuff." I have this friend, you know, and he says "and shit" after every mildly philosophical sentence he states. I find it both hilarious and endearing. I am not too worried about typing this here, because I don't think he reads my blogs anymore. It's good.

Anyway, the fact that Nick says "and shit" in the most fantastic way possible isn't the purpose of this blog. I don't think, at least. I mean, it could be. I never know the purpose of my blogs when I start typing them. I think I'm only writing this much because I feel bad for neglecting my blog so long, and because I'm so grateful that Max reminded me of blogger. It's a good thing. Once again, I think.

Things are .. well, different. For the longest time, I've been convincing myself that everything is just fine. Not good, not bad, just fine. And that's bullshit, and I'm just starting to realize that. I wouldn't say my thoughts are suicidal - just contemplative. I've been spending a bit of time with the "what if" monster. I mean, I think it's just one of those cry for help things. Right? I mean, I don't think I sincerely want to kick it.

Lately I've been thinking about Sarah Schiltz a lot. See, she used to cut herself. She might still do it, I don't know. But the thing is, she is pretty stupid. That sounds harsh and all, but you, the reader, don't know Sarah Schiltz, more than likely. I mean, she's just goddamn stupid, is all. (To clarify, she's not stupid because she does that. Well, er.. just, keep reading, okay? I'll clarify later)

So one time I was hanging out with her. She and I were talking and I noticed her arm was a little scratched up. Three vertical lines ran down her wrist. Perfect little furrows. I couldn't help but think of irrigation. Anyway, I asked her about it. I asked why she did it that way - vertically, I mean. In my experience, it's always horizontal, y'know? I mean, it's probably a pretty mundane detail of self-mutilation, but the point is, I asked.

She said, "I saw on the internet that it's supposed to be that way." And then it hit me - she'd seen this joke type thing that some asshole made. Exhibit A. Now just look at that. It's an instruction "manual" for suicide. And it just hit me that stupid people like Sarah take things like that seriously. I mean, she didn't realize it was a joke, and that some anonymous internet retard made an illustration as a joke, and Sarah Schiltz took it seriously.

My first thought was, "What if she had killed herself?" This resulted in a mental victory dance, followed by a reprimand from the theoretical angel on my shoulder.
My next thought was, "What if there are more stupid people like Sarah? What if this is the culling song of America? What if I mass-produced this image?" Once again, a lecture from the little angel.

But all I could think about was, you know.. why do I hang out such idiots?

I still wonder the same thing.

Hmm.

So, this is delayed and all, but welcome to July.

I guess I've just lost inspiration for absolutely everything. Which is bad. I don't know, though. Maybe my head will explode if I keep all these useless thoughts inside of it for much longer.

Dismantle Me

Things have changed. Again.

I've gone from being miserable about Ben to be being miserable about someone else (for Max's sake, I wont mention who) to being miserable about Ben to being miserable about someone else. The fact that it's almost five in the morning isn't helping my case. Also, I don't really know what to do with myself nowadays. I have been home for just about a week straight, aside from work.

Anyway, Max, your folk band sounds awesome. I'm up for Beirut-inspired songs.

Wake up

I've been ignoring this thing for quite some time. Mostly I just dread reading the stupid things I penned while I was going through various phases.

Lately I've found that it's impossible to breathe when life has you by the throat- things change so quickly. Any type of feelings I ever had for Ben -- friendly or otherwise -- have ebbed away, at least from my consciousness. Love isn't ever as dramatic as we make it out to be. I think it's more gentle than a smack in the face, not like I thought before. I think it's just a slow fall with no sort of end in sight.

Once more.. nothing like I've imagined for so long.

there's nothing

quite as therapeutic as standing in the middle of an empty street, while the sky cries.

i swear, could see for miles.

All the shit

I said I was gonna do when we broke up hasn't happened yet. None of it.

I've just thrown myself into music, so far.

I was happy to see Max perform this evening. Mandolina (Mandolino?) is a lucky, lucky instrument.

Fuckin' A

I can see again! I can see again! I am free from the oppression that those infatuations can bring! It hurts to be so painfully aware of my idiocy, but hopefully you've noticed your own.

Don't get me wrong,
I would still take you back
in a second (or two).

Nothing quite wakes you up

like a 3 AM run in the pouring rain.

I'm soaked down to my bones and nothing is making sense. I just don't care anymore.

Just a stranger

Yeah, I thought you were tangible
Turns out I was dreamin'

(a tidbit of a song,
or something.)

My hearts' record for speeding

I hate seeing you sad, but making my heart ache seems to be your favorite thing to do..

Moderation

I'm going out of town next week. Not this Saturday but the next one. I will be visiting my grandparents in their tiny town, and I'm getting the feeling already that I'll just spend the entire visit watching IMF and the Indie Film Channel. Satellite television is a distraction from the world outside my window.

I also have a feeling that I'm going to stay up till around 6:00, waiting for you to call. And you'll call at 6:02, when I finally drift off.

You do it just to spite me.

To Friends

Max,
You can't idealize a big city. I mean, you can, but it's just going to be more of the same, on a large scale. If you want recognition, earn it.. But no matter where your music goes, I'm going to be more than happy to support you in as many ways as you'll let me..

Caroline,
I wish you weren't so insecure sometimes. I love you all the same.

Ben,
The only routine I haven't gotten sick of. There are a lot of things I want to say to you, but not here. Not now. I've found myself wishing on dandelions for you to hate me, because usually the things I wish for turn out opposite.
And though I'm trying very hard to blend seamlessly between your friend and your girlfriend, my smile will always be false.

Joe,
I'm sorry. I missed you.

Caitlyn,
Oddly enough, I don't dislike you nearly as much as I thought I did. You say some ridiculous things, but I feel like getting to know you was a good idea.

Michael,
It's weird to be talking to you again. You haven't changed at all and I've done some kind of insane 360. I'm not sure what it is about you that appeals to me, but I'm pleased we're friends, though I'm equally pleased you don't live here anymore.

Spencer,
It was nice of you to stand outside the teachers bathroom and wait for me to stop dry heaving. It's things like that that I appreciate a lot. You are special and nice and I'm glad we're friends.

That's all I feel like writing for tonight. Some kind of wrap-up for the end of the school year. Not nearly as compelling as Max's.

Ben does his own thing,

and two days later I'm on the bathroom floor with broken glass and a note pad.

Ben cries, and so does the sky.

Alone, but not lonely

I experienced something significant today. I don't think it'll be as striking to anybody else but me. All the same, it happened, and it was interesting to me..

I'd been having a pretty shitty day. You know how that goes. The whole not showering in a couple days and dreading work things definitely factored in. At the end of PE, my friend Seth and I always go upstairs about five, ten minutes early so we can get to our lockers before the giant mass of idiots come billowing out of their respective courses. Anyway, today was just like any other-- his locker's on the second floor so we parted ways, as usual, and I went upstairs. Usually there are about five people wandering around the halls at this time, so I was surprised when I noticed that I was completely alone.

I had my headphones stuck in my ears and I was carrying my Mountain Dew and I was listening to this really great song. It doesn't have words or anything, but it's still a great song. And after a few seconds I closed my eyes and just walked down the hall way. It felt like there was no world outside of what I was listening to and thinking about. I felt so complete, but insignificant, meaningless, at the same time. Somehow it was a good feeling.

And then, just as the bell rang, the chorus swelled, and I stood stationary while the rest of the world pushed past.

p.s. I left out the part about the bitch from my foods class yelling at me. But it didn't mean a thing.

Just a thought

Ben's parents have a shelf full of "how-to" books on love.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but shouldn't love, real love, come naturally, without the guidance of someone with a PhD?

A change

I don't really know how I am feeling. It's hard to differentiate things from one another, I think my emotions are all mixed into one thing right now. They must resemble something along the lines of Superman ice cream when it's all melty and the colors mix together and make a color similar to that of rainbow excrement.

Oh no

oh no, oh, oh no.

oh no. please no.

the woodpecker sighs........

oh no, oh no.. oh.. no..


if only i'd gotten there first

Drive

My infancy is marked by the fact that I can't move around, concealed in a hunk of metal and glass. I'd fly on a carpet of cellophane if I could, to get away from the flaws of standardized testing.

Basically I'm trying to convey that driver's ed is going to suck, and I'm almost sixteen, and Max is almost eighteen, but I don't feel any different and I don't imagine he does either.

Hope infesting my bones

Some day I'll know how it feels to be complete. I am sure of this.

I think.

(Not that I am broken or anything. I just am. And that is all)

Lamb and the Lion

I've been thinking about some stuff lately. I'll try to cover it all in one post but I'll probably get lazy and stop halfway through.

Mostly just about how everything people do is for a reaction. You know, the law of gravity. Not just a reaction, either. Everything they do is for people to perceive them in their chosen way. Subliminal messaging, if you will. Like wearing a pair of socially acceptable shoes, so people will just put you into the category of cool because of the way you dress and who you're with. I can't really explain it into coherent words so it makes sense the way that it does in my head. It's just difficult.

Moving on, the other thing I've been thinking about is how I don't do anything. I complain about my job and all, but what would I be doing if I didn't work? Probably nothing. And if I added up all the hours I spend behind a screen, doing this, removed them, and replaced them with productive things, well.. I'd have a lot of stuff done. What stuff specifically, I do not know, but it would be stuff nonetheless. Maybe I should do homework or something.

I guess that's about all I needed to discuss with myself. Good evening.

Fourth month

of my life.

I am yours, as long as you'll have me

Shit.

Just when everything was perfect...

just like I remember

This is the last day of April.

Summer is coming up. I'm afraid I have too high of expectations for it. But maybe they're not so high after all. I think, though, that this will be the best summer yet. I sincerely hope so, at the very least.

I mean, summer is all about intangible things. That feeling in your chest when you're riding your bike late at night. The sun kissing your face and shoulders. Being able to just feel that new layer of tan sinking into your skin. Grass between your toes. Freedom.
At least, that's what summer is to me. Then again, it's just another one-fourth of another year.

Fake Palindromes

I could watch you sleep forever. Watch your chest rise, your eyelashes flutter, your face contort into a pout.

exhaustion, pure and complete

Only 36 days.

Dry Lips

Last night I stood on the top of the earth with you. Maybe it was technically just the highest level of a parking garage, but the wind was making our eyes water and the city below us looked so small that it might as well have been higher than anyone had ever been before.

With my hair in my eyes and your hand in mine, any doubts I had mulled over feverishly the night before vanished, while I counted your freckles and stored your smile against the setting sun in a box inside my heart.

I can't sit still

I am hoping that my words will soak through your skin;
from my brain to my veins to your fingertips
I am hoping that your eyes will read the message traveling from mine;
transform into something you can comprehend.
I am hoping that your kiss will absorb these things I've said;
your lips molten, as I pray that my message slips into them
All the same,
I am not brave enough to do anything but hope.

Goodnight, moon

Last summer, I spent a lot of time on my roof, with a comforter and an iPod dock and a paper filled with hardly thought-out scribbles and doodles. I rarely spoke to anyone on those nights. I imagine that my eyes were filled with the wonder of the stars and the moon and the planets, all aligned in a way that only comes around every thirty days. This was an activity I have not ever gotten sick of. I don't imagine I ever will. Sometimes, if the trees are just black enough, and the sky looks enough like Van Gogh's most acclaimed work, and your eyes are opened wide, well, it will knock the breath out of you.

And although you're not as enthusiastic at sharing this experience with me as I am, I'll show you. Just wait.

Childrens' books

"My knees are shaking"

"Are you cold..?"

"No."

Black Clouds

I bet Patrick Dempsey is a real asshole. He's not even attractive. Shit. I don't understand why the same movies keep being made over and over (more or less) and released with tons of hype. Stupid media.

I've got better things to be talking about, but I just don't feel up to it right now. I have to go to work in half an hour. It will, without a doubt, be terrible.

bills to pay

I finished rereading Twilight today. It took longer than I expected. It's such an unrealistic book. For some reason, though, it makes me happy, and it's well-written and I like it. So there. I guess I am a typical teenage girl. But you already knew that.

My face really itches. I have bad skin. Woe.

I have nothing interesting to contribute this evening. I feel crappy and it's affecting everything, I'm afraid. Not emotionally. Emotionally I'm fine. Physically I am weary.

Meh.

Blatant symbolism

I dreamt a cougar took your life, and I wept for all the things I'd never said

Blatant symbolism? I think so
But I've never suspected my REM of being subtle

You know,

I could have done it
I could have told you today

But instead I traced the words into your back with my fingertip as you slept

I could have sworn

you were going to say something more.

I look up at you sometimes and I can't believe how beautiful you are. I want to freeze time and live with your eyes in mine for a week, a month, a year.

I closed my eyes to make a wish

but it was already 11:12

The only world I can think of is "foreboding"

I have an awful feeling in my stomach. Everything that happens makes it worse. It's growing, gnawing at my insides. I think disintegrating them would be more accurate. I don't understand; I've had a good day, I got a book and I spent time with friends and my illness is finally fading.

I can't think of anything else to write. My hands are trembling.

My mind's only playing a trick on me, but I can't shake it off.

welcome to april

i stood motionless before the mirror
as always, i stayed until i'm convinced that there is no glass, nothing, separating me from the room i see on the other side
i imagine that everything is different over there;better
there are people, in that world, that i would like
but, like always, my hand his the glass

i know that if i'd only waited one more second.

-jcv

waste of paint.

Lately I've been listening to "LIFTED, or the Story is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground" quite a bit. I bought it quite some time ago, but since that I didn't really pay it much attention, besides a couple obvious tracks like "Bowl of Oranges" and whatnot.

So what this is getting to is, disturbing projections of my (and others, too) life, penned by someone I will never meet

"As I hide behind
these books I read,
while scribbling
my poetry,
like art could save a wretch like me,
with some ideal ideology
that no one can hope to achieve.
And I am never real;
it is just a sketch in me.
And everything I made is trite
and cheap
and a waste
of paint,
of tape,
of time."

I started sending you a note

Everyone is so rude. Would it kill them to get their head out of their behind and try to be considerate, or even polite? Girls especially- they think that they're the only person on the planet earth, and are entitled to hate and judge everybody they want. Being caught up in yourself is going to make you fall.

And I'm not saying all females are like this, but a good majority are. And it's really, really old.

Oh, and push pops have officially beaten slush pops. They're both so damn good, though..

stardust

"If you love something, give it away"



I need inspiration. I can't even bring myself to choke out another crappy blog entry.

Frustration!

No surprise

miss you already

The Only Moment We Were Alone

a shining beacon amongst the gray!

(I'm exaggerating)

(maybe)

he knows! he knows! these secrets in the form of abrasions are his to see!

if I trust you, don't fuck it up

crop circles in the carpet

I will wait another forty-five minutes.

Right now I'm listening to my dog breathe / dream and 'Hide and Seek.' It's comforting. I feel like I am in the book Goodnight Moon. It is a very good feeling.

I think that if I ever have children, I'll make their rooms as close to that one as I can. For me, that book is home, so it would be terrific.

If I close my eyes, I am able to pretend that I'm the only person awake in the whole world.

blacktop calling your name

I spent about 113$ on music this weekend. It was satisfying. But my computer has already eaten the Imogen Heap record and that means that I will probably never get to load Elliott Smith. Which is maddening, but, you know, you take what you can get, I suppose.. (in case you hadn't figured it out, my computer is a piece of shit)

Everything is going fine. It's probably the normalcy that is leaving me so uninterested. I'm also very aware of how much this weekend is going to suck, and the others following it as well. They just seem really trivial when summer is so close, and also since my curfew has been moved back to eleven.

I used to crave solitude, but recently I've found that when I'm alone for too long, I lose my head. I haven't any theories to explain this yet, but I'm hoping it will just go away on its' own.

We are out of popsicles.

Spending too much time on what you want to see makes you an idiot, or an idealist. Maybe you should focus more on what is in front of you.

i am afraid there's a hole in my brain

i wish i were more important

fargo is a good movie

good evening.

too much

ssdgsdgasdgadsgdas

sometimes when i am sitting
alone
in the dark
reading those words

my body seems to disapear
i can float away
from this

i think that if i sit there long enough, someday i can fly away

a can of worms

before i could stop myself, i wrote 'love' and then my name
it was an impulse
and even after i crossed it out, it stuck in my head
i hate that word sometimes
just because it's such a big deal. i don't throw it around, of course not
but doesn't it seem to you that if you are pretty sure you feel that way, it's okay to say it? even if it seems too soon or something?
maybe not...

infatuation maxes out at two months anyway.
shit.

what is this then?

p.s. i'm going to regret posting this later

p.p.s. i hope she still thinks about you. i hope she regrets

p.p.p.s. it's not like anybody reads this anyway

carry me home.

For some reason, I keep thinking about that first dream about you that I had. I wish that dream had come true. But whenever I look over at you smiling back at me, I kinda feel like it's better this way..

I can't believe

how long it's been since I posted.

A week or so, but still..

I just keep forgetting, or I think about it, but I don't feel like I'm inspired or anything, and that whatever I'd write would just be total crap, y'know?

Hm. That's pretty accurate to everything I post, though.

while my mother waters plants, my father loads his gun

I do not know why I am opening this up when I have nothing to write about. I learned something new today, about you. It didn't necessarily make me happy. Not at all. It made me disappointed and feel .. not special.

I guess.
No, I don't guess. I know that. I'm way too sensitive.

I kind of wish I had stayed in tonight, mostly because I'd have been better off not knowing about that.

I'm so tired of my insecurities jumping the gun. Of my heart being heavy about stupid things that a normal person wouldn't worry about. Not that I'm special, or anything. I just don't think that my emotions are.. in check.

I'm glad that my mp3 player is fixed.. I will be thinking about happy things for the rest of the night.

it's been awhile

since I blogged in the daytime, or with other people present.

Kate and Lorraine are here.

Mmmhm.

I miss that show, Catscratch. It was good.

GOD DAMMIT, THIS IS WHY I DON'T BLOG DURING THE DAY. I can't write.
I'll hopefully update this later.


Yup..

a daydream

tolerance
good hair days
beauty, but on my face, and not everyone else's
north high school, up in flames
horror movies without gratuitous nudity
spending every night in your arms
somewhere far, far from here
a cure for this disease.

play it back

February is almost over
And then March
Then April
Followed by May.
Followed by freedom.

Sort of. I have to learn to drive this summer, and take World History so I can take two art classes.

But whatever.

I think I'm getting sick again.

I am very glad No Country for Old Men won best picture.
I took a bike ride today. I like to pretend I can fly, sometimes.

teeth like god's shoeshine

Root beer + diet coke = good.
Root beer = good.
Diet coke = sick.

Just thought I'd tell you.

It's just so exhausting, to not think about how fast I've fallen in love with you.

If that's what it is.
It's not.

God dammit.
It's too soon. This can't be normal.

a madness most discreet

I hate Shakespeare. And the Odyssey sucks. Come on, a cyclops? Plus, Odysseus had sex with, like, three women that weren't Penelope. Who is, after all, his wife. He's an asshole!

Anyway, today was a good day.

I could go for a cherry slushie right now, though.

I don't have anything substantial to write about. Nor do I really have anything on my mind. Except that my head is cold, and I'm wearing my hair up tomorrow, because apparently, it's not good enough when it's straightened, and I look like a bimbo when my hair is un-straight. You know? It's just not worth it.

I hope you feel really bad about making me feel bad about myself. Yup.

Man,

I need a haircut. And I need to start caring about school again. I mean, I don't think I ever really CARED, but I can't be doing as badly as I am doing.

I AM trying to improve myself, I just don't know where to start.

They say when you die, you lose 21 grams instantly.
Is that how much my soul weighs?

Promotheus had it easy.

At least he knew what to expect.


If only every day were not the same as the one before. I'm exhausted by the frigid weather. 100 days until school is out. (Ah, the infamous absolution counter begins again)

Sometimes I think you're wrong for me, because you're the kind of person that.. Well, like, when you fall, you just keep going. And you probably take things like PE volleyball seriously.
Whereas, when I fall, I laugh. And PE volleyball is the last time to be taken seriously, right behind Paris Hilton's acting career. Okay, I'm kind of joking.
But then I remember every other perfect thing about you, like how we can sit and not have to say anything, just breathe and think, but it's still a million times different from being alone. And how, well, you're you. And laughing when you fall probably doesn't matter.

GAHH, this cold.............

I'll laugh all the way to hell.

I hate sleeping in solitude. I wish you would sneak in my window, just to slumber. Or talk. Not necessarily every night. But any night. Once a month. I'd be okay with it. But on the other hand, I'm content with the time we spend together. I'll always want more, no matter what, y'know?

I'm starting to be able to sleep again, though.
Maybe being content is the key.

Although this afternoon, I was contemplating spending another 35 hours at school this week. It made me want to commit suicide. I'm not joking, either. It's such a dismal thought. Higher education.. Yeah, alright.

I just hope it goes by fast... This weekend wont necessarily be anything special, but as long as I'm with you, it will be. If that made any sense at all. I guess I'm just trying to say you make everything worthwhile.

Maps

I don't know what to write about tonight. You've completely commandeered my brain. It's ridiculous. In the best possible way. I think. Yeah, actually, it's good, I suppose. It's not a re-routing or anything. Just some new domination of my thought process. I am not used to it. I am scared at how much I trust you. I am restless when you're not around. Typical teenage reaction, wouldn't you say? I hope not.

Something tells me that you're completely different than any other boy. And I want to be your best friend, and your girl friend. I hope I can accomplish that. I really do.

At this point, I just don't know if I can see myself with anyone else.

'I found a face that's waking me up'

Someday, you'll understand that you're out of my league. Someday you will know why it is that I'm so amazed with you. You are so special, I hope you see that.

I think that if I could imagine someone for myself, someone with every tiny thing in order, he'd pale in comparison to you. You're becoming my best friend, and on top of that, you're becoming the most important person I've known.

I like your honesty. I like the freckle on your lip, and the way you take little things from conversation and turn them into something special. I like your nervous habits. I like when you're embarrassed. I like the idea of getting to know you. I like the fact that you're mine. I like it when you kiss my cheek when I am supposed to be slumbering. I like curling up next to you. I like the butterflies you give me, at least a million times a day. I like your bizarre explanations for everyday events/things. I like thinking about you, and I like how when I am with you, I am happy.

I used to think finding the "right" person for you was about convenience. I used to think it was just whoever happened to go to your high school, or frequent your place of employment, that you could make that person into Prince Charming. I used to think that you love who you choose to love.
But I'm finding that illogical, impossible things are more of a factor than I could've ever imagined.
And I like that. A lot.

these grass stains on my knees

I like your haircut.

You look like a child, though.

I'm so tired.

I wish I had the ability to sleep. I say that all the time, but I do. Insomnia is an ugly thing.

I got some new lip chap stuff today.

And some candy. And stuff. I dunno. I'm happy and lucky.

So happy.
Today/tomorrow will be good. A good day. I really hope.

Gah, I miss you.

PARALELL synchronized RANDOMNESS!!!!

Is "I mean what I say" the same as "I say what I mean?" I asked you about this, and we disagreed. We don't usually disagree, except on things like this.
I say they're different. It's like saying "I cry when I'm sad" is the same as "I'm sad when I cry." Because you aren't necessarily ALWAYS sad when you cry, as the first statement illustrates. The second is just contradictory, see? I think they're different, subtly. Or it's just an annoying paradox that I waste a lot of time thinking about.

My nasal cavity keeps doing that painful, irritating twitch that it does when I'm sick. I am very tired of this. I also miss you, and hope that you miss me. Valentine's Day is coming up, and like everyone else, we are going to obey corporate propaganda, and celebrate it together!!! Which I secretly (ish) enjoy. And we'd probably be spending time with eachother anyway, but that's not the point. The point is, there is no point.

Man, I will get to sleep in tomorrow. And I want to get better soon.

I'm so exhausted. But I can't sleep.
As always..

Don't let these words deceive you-- things are good. Great. Wonderful. I'm trying to deal with my lack of confidence, and general inadequacies. I am trying to be less obnoxious. I'm not changing for anybody, really, because I'm not changing. And even if I did, well, I doubt anybody would notice.

Is it selfish of me to want people (by "people" I mean "boys") to love me, even if I don't feel the same way, and this could ultimately cause them discomfort? It definitely is. Shit. But on the other hand, this want could be spurred by my general contempt for the "l word." If you don't stick it out, it's not real. In my head, atleast. I don't see how people can get over one another so quickly. Or at all.
I think that I just have some deep, pathetic need to be needed. Because, well, isn't that what everybody wants? When it all comes down to it, humans are really similar to one another.. Sickening, but true.

Sometimes I think

about how many mistakes I make in an evening. I count them up and mull them over, and over, and over.
I can't believe I wrote that on your wall, and then pathetically covered it up with a dinosaur poster. I hope you'll understand. I have a deep sort of need to express myself, all the time. I don't know why. At least I wasn't stupid enough to just leave it there.

I WANT TO HAVE...
Just one day where everything goes perfect, to make up for all of my miniature mistakes.
And therapy.

More and more

your demeanor looks like quicksand.


-

I thought about it today. And I figure that when you tell me you want to know me, you are telling me you want to know if you love me or not. Because once you know someone, fully, don't you also know if you love them or not? Isn't it the same thing? I dunno. I feel conceited saying that, somehow..

I hate that feeling I get in my gut whenever SHE comes up. That stupid GIRL that you fell in love with. It kills me to know that you loved someone that is not me. Even though it's out of my hands. All of it. And when I asked if you wish you could change things so you could still be with her, you avoided the question. And it killed me.
And when you told me the story of how she let you go, it killed me. And I just feel so dead thinking about it. HER. Why HER? She's nothing special. She's nothing compared to you. Not that I AM, just, somehow, you're blinded. And I'm okay with that.
I think.
Yeah. I am a human. I am selfish. Therefore, I am okay with that.

I am so much more comfortable convincing myself that you didn't REALLY love her. But I know you did. Maybe you still do. Maybe you always will. And it kills me.

Just another band-aid.

My throat hurts
I seem to have developed some kind of by-product of the plague
And I am going to attempt to boycott kissing you
It will be exceedingly difficult.

I will fail.
In about thirty seconds.

Dammit.

I just know I will.

Anyway. I legitimately fell asleep in your arms this evening. And you were out cold as well. And it made me happy. Like if I can fall asleep, without pretending, then this must mean something. It really must.

I think way too much.

I had a lot of insightful things to place here, this evening.
But they fell out of the back of my mind and I am scared that you're only saying you're sick because you don't want to have to spend time with me.
Paranoia is total awareness.
or something,

whatever.

I'm losing my voice. "It's your lips fault," you told me. "If you get sick, I'm still not going to forgive myself," you told me. Blah. I don't know. But I DO know how you hate insincerity, and yet for some reason I have a really, really hard time trusting you. There has to be something you're using me for, because there's absolutely no way you can honestly care for me in the same way I care for you.

And it's highly likely that I am feeling something more peculiar, complicated, what have you, than teenage lust, and it's likely that I'm terrified of even thinking about spending my life without you in it. I could settle for just seeing you every now and then. I guess. But the more I get to know you, the more panicky I am about YOU getting to know ME.

My guard is always up. But I feel like it's kind of slipping. I can't trust you. I don't. I will not. Not for a long, long time. I'm so scared you'll realize what a douche I am....

I hate being lonely because you didn't feel up to spending time together tonight. I wish I could just deal with my insecurities instead of convincing myself that every tiny thing should be analyzed again and again. And again.
If only.

I think, though, that maybe your eyes are broken. And your ears. That every stupid, shitty thing I say is magically translated into something clever, caring, or impressive. That even the smallest physical flaw is decoded into a reflection of how I'd like to look. Maybe you're blind to my scars. Maybe your hands are broken. Maybe when you touch my wrist, you don't feel a pulse lagging. A heart half-beating from misuse. You don't feel my imperfections or my mistakes, maybe every coarse piece of me is somehow rendered smooth at your touch.

Or maybe.. maybe I spend too much time thinking about this.

I'M only all I SEE sometimes

wouldn't it be nice if I could read your mind?

My hands are so cold



Sometimes I feel like you're some kind of giving tree. Like the Shel Silverstein book. Like I'm the selfish little child who keeps taking things, vital things, from you. It is a depressing thought.

I am sleep-deprived. Shut up.

A romantic subplot is developing for Miss Apathy. Not that anyone who reads this knows who she is, but whatever.

A moment of clarity.

Or not.

I'm terrified of things being out of control as far as our situation goes. I am exhausted and I miss you so much and I wish I could have spent time with you this evening or afternoon or ANYthing. And I hate not feeling wanted or like I am a priority, and I complain too much and I use the word I too much and I am really mean to people I care about. I should stop.

I guess it goes without saying that the title is off track.

This is

A poem about absolutely nothing beneficial to anyone.

Curled up
with your nose pressed against mine
I wait
for you to think I am asleep
so you will kiss my cheek
and smile at me
and try hard not to wake me
while I "slumber"

--

I am finding more and more every day that six billion, well, that's a lot of people. And I'm also starting to realize how much easier it would be, to become an accountant, or something, than to become a writer. An artist. A poet. A what-have-you. So many people share my dream. I am afraid that this just wont work out the way I've always planned.

I'd like to speak (well, type) a bit more about things like this that are on my mind, but sleep is tugging on my sleeve (which is something I am not used to), and I'm going to partake. I suppose. I don't know.

I'm just so scared, because I am the happiest I have ever been.
What if I lose you?

It has been one month

today
February the third (right now, it's technically the fourth, but whatever)
since my life began

Last day of January

Valentine's day is coming up

stupid propaganda.

For some reason, though, I'm excited..

Meh.

My god, I'm freezing. I can't wait to think of something substantial to write. I really hope I update with something interesting later.

OH, INSECURITY

I wish.............

that you would call
right now.

Okay.
In a few..

alright..... okay, okay..

okay...

NOW.

now.

do it now.

ring......... please ring.... please please please ring.....



not ringing..

I hate it when

my hair is wavy, because it's so inconsistent. Why should my hair style match my shortcomings?

You're only what I see sometimes

I like Animal Collective alot.

Friday you were talking about how sometimes your impulse is to do these horrible things, like punch someone in the face or throw yourself off of a balcony, and how you hate it so much, and you'd NEVER do any of those things, but still the ideas pop into your head.

I could only nod and say I understood.

But really, that same thing happens to me, but I was afraid you'd think I was lying if I told you. I don't know why. I wish I had told you.

But DON'T get me wrong,

I am still happy and I still care for you just as much, more even

I just get the feeling you don't feel as much as I do

BULLshit.

I hate when you lie about stupid things like sleeping in favor of chatting on the phone.
I hate talking on the phone, but not to you.

Maybe I'm just paranoid....

Mmeehhh.

You can only say 100% happy for a small amount of time, I guess, and I'm still happy, only maybe 95% now. I don't know why. I've just got this funk goin' on today.

Oh, well.
I want to take a nap with you right now, I think that could bump it back up to 100 in a split second.

bone face

"Every day I spend with you is the new best day of my life"


I seem to know exactly what I want to say on this stupid thing. But when I'm talking to you I get tongue tied and make a fool of myself. It's so exhausting.

I'm freezing

But I still sit
And sigh
And think of you

David says I'm in love with you. But wouldn't I know?
Isn't it too soon?

Part of me wants to say that I've loved you since I saw you doing your funny little walk, when I was in the sixth grade and you were in the eighth. And you didn't notice me then. You didn't know I existed until this year.

But the other part of me is RATIONAL. And this part insists that love is more than that stupid feeling I get in my gut when you lie to me about being pretty, or when you kiss me on my forehead (my favorite, which you know, and use against me to make me melt). "Love is speaking in code, it's an inside joke, love is coming home."


Every time I close my eyes, I open them in hopes of seeing yours looking back at me. Like a child on Christmas eve.

It occurred to me today

when we were lying on my bed and I was watching you sleep
that it is quite possible I'm irrevocably falling for you.

Happiness

I hope this never, ever ends

I finally found what I've been looking for.

Mmm. So.

my cat just pissed in my room, probably on the sweater i'm going to wear tomorrow, come to think of it. damn.

i had fun today. and i got a cute note from you. and we spent time together. and it was good. and i love being around you, and holding your hand, and kissing your cheek and i love your smile. and i don't see any way that i could stop feeling this way about you. i'm still just so damned scared you'll realize what a douche bag i am. it's terrifying.

and yet i wonder. what if i was right in my last post....? what if you are my happy ending?? i am too afraid to even hope for this, because then i'd jinx it.

and i really, really don't want that to happen. i mean. i could be content, more than content, with spending my life around you. having you be a part of it. it sounds kind of dumb and cheesy, but... oh. i don't know. i wish i did. my thoughts never seem to be on one plane anymore.

i wish i could sleep. because then i could dream. and there'd be a chance that i'd see you there.

"if I don't, I'm gonna go crazy"

I think the reason that everybody likes fiction better than nonfiction is because of the endings. They never turn out the way you want them to. The problems don't resolve themselves. Nobody changes. Not everything is premeditated and even though you know it's the truth, you still wish it were a lie.

I think, though, I've found my happy ending.

Peach slushie.

"but you're going to have to hold my hand.."

I would have anyway.

I'm so happy I met you.

I cried a lot today. I hate being screamed at, it just makes me lose it. My head hurts, my eyes are swollen, and yet.. today was perfect. I mean, it really was. This mean librarian is quitting, so I wont have to deal with her at work anymore, and I watched part of a really good movie with you. And I had a lot of fun. And I can't wait for tomorrow.
It's been two weeks today. I hope it lasts two weeks more. And another two weeks. And another and another and.. you get the idea.

I don't see what anybody could see in anyone but you.

I really don't. I mean. I think that you are the greatest person I know. And I'm total shit compared to you. But you're so.. you're just.. There is nobody I'd rather be with. I'm scared of losing you. I really, really am. And I care for you so much already. And.. I don't know!!! I just can't comprehend anybody disliking you, or NOT falling in love with you. You're perfect(ly flawed) in my eyes. It's not that you're on a pedestal, or that you do no wrong, it's just that you can manage to be absolutely amazing, flaws and all.
So amazing..

"Temporal throbbings"

you know the rest....

Inhale. Exhale and run your fingers through your hair and smile with your teeth and try so hard to be charming and beautiful. And it doesn't really work. And you know, but still you try.
You, my friend (actually, you only wish), are absolute bullshit. And if you dropped dead right now, I wouldn't care. Because you have contributed NOTHING positive to ANYONE's life-- you make your mother cry, and you also make for a much-needed stress reliever to a lot of different people. But don't you ever feel empty about this, about the fact that nobody truly likes you? I hope some day you realize what a waste of life you are. I really honestly hope that, you spineless little bitch.

--

I'm sorry for that. I just needed to let this out really quickly.

Everything is still happy, but I'm afraid suddenly everything will change, but I can still allow myself to be happy, because of him, and.. Yeah. I just.. I don't know. I'm so thankful. Thankful towards who, I do not know, but I am still thankful. "What is it about you that has commandeered my brain?" I don't know that one either-- but I have a few theories.

I'll catch you all, my FAITHFUL readers (hahahahahahhahahahahhhahahah), later. I have some things I want to do.

Climb the WALLS for OXYGEN

I want to kiss you again

And I want to hug you forever
And ever and ever and ever
I just want to stop on that moment, the moment where we're standing in my driveway, and our arms are around each other and we're shivering but it's so worth it. I want that to last forever.

I wish, and wish, and wish.

I have nothing interesting to write about. Ho, hum.

I want to rant and rant so this blog will be nice and long to make up for the shitty, tiny things I've been posting lately. So far nothing to rant about has come into my head. I could talk more about you, but.. I don't know.

I guess I've just been thinking about how you give me that feeling in my chest. The feeling that I get when I listen to "Capture the Flag." Like there are butterflies inside of me-- but not in my stomach. More in my chest. More like they're going to climb up my throat and out my mouth and fly away. And I just feel like this calm, peaceful person, because you level me out. You get into my head. There is one photograph that reminds me so much of you, it makes me want to cry. I'll include it in this post.


It seems like the days are getting more and more the same, and I loathe routines. I want this shit to be over with. School, I mean. Sitting in Fundamentals of Food with the timid, miniature, blonde teacher and a group of absolutely morons is not what I call a good time. I'm so much more comfortable around you when we're outside of those stupid fucking whitewashed walls. With everyone around us, I feel like I've got to meet some kind of expectation. But with just you.. I'm humble. And complete. And whatever happens, happens, and whatever doesn't, doesn't, but you're with me so nothing really matters as much as it would in the outside world. Why I should care what a bunch of arrogant high schoolers (complete with head-up-ass action!) think of us is beyond me. But for some reason I do.

I'm constantly molded into this piece of shit person, this asshole I don't even like, when I have to spend too much time inside of that prison. I'm loud. And obnoxious. And I just.. I just want to kick my own ass. And it should really stop.

I don't understand

what the most attractive, wonderful, amusing, well-dressed, polite, kind, intelligent, charming boy in the Western Hemisphere, or any hemisphere at that, sees in ME. Me.

Not that I'm complaining.

If you rescue me,

I'll never have to be alone again

I'm so glad you're mine

but what I don't get is,
you could have just about anybody.

Why me..?

fuck was i

I've got this good thing going, and I love what's happening and.. I'm just this big pessimist at heart, and I'm so afraid that it wont last, and I have no basis for this fear, it's completely... irrational and random. But I'm just so scared that it'll end and I just know how sad that would be, regardless of the circumstances, because this thing is just so perfect and wonderful even though it's in the beginning stages, I... I don't know....!

I feel stupid now. If I actually have the courage to click post, it'll be a miracle. I hope that this isn't a really weird way to feel. Because then I would worry even more, haha. And it's not like I have a bad feeling about this thing, because I don't, I have an incredible feeling about it, but I'm just scared because I'm more aware than anyone (obviously, I guess, haha) of my flaws and how major they are and I want them to be looked over or seen through, but I dunno, I guess it's just hard.

I think I am really really insecure.

none shall pass

You surprised me today

I love surprises

And I love..
Kimya Dawson
the Science of Sleep
New hoodies
Hugs from you
Matching tee shirts
Polaroids
Smiley faces

Pointless..? Perhaps.

I like you more and more and more and more every single minute.

I am just a speck of dust inside a giant's eye.

I am sitting next to you thinking, SHUT UP BEN KWELLER, I WANT TO HEAR HIM SING.

And that is when I realize that I am totally crazy for you and it's pathetic. And I embarrass myself in front of you constantly but.. Oh, I don't care.

You are mine and I am happy. And I hope some day you can be crazy about me, too.

I'm not going to lie,

I am sitting here in my bra and underwear

With my hair in a towel

Wondering if you're thinking about me, too

I hope you are

God, I hope you are...

I bought a bunch of new CDs today, it just figures that now would be the time for my computer to not recognize any discs.

I am still upbeat. Even though I have a week of school ahead of me. Even though I didn't see you today. I will see you tomorrow.

hair cut, new jeans, new attitude

my giddiness about everything going on in my life wont last, but i'm going to enjoy it while it does. and hearing that i make you happy, well, that just makes me happier. i want to spend all day. all weekend. every weekday. a month a year a lifetime. i just like being around you more than i like being around anybody else.

EUPHORIA

I am happier than I have ever been

I like you so much

I do
I do

I'm so all about you

And I'm never going to stop smiling about this (:

You are mine. <3

nothing to say except

days without you are total bores

I can't wait to see your smiling face again

Phantom Limb

oh,
you are
the roots
that sleep
beneath my feet
and hold
the earth
in
place.

If only I didn't have to use someone else's words.

I wish I were aesthetically pleasing enough to measure up to you. Good lord, I just.. You're just... EVERYTHING I ever possibly could have imagined in someone I could want. You're more than that. You're real. You're breathing.

"Like if you cut open a rag doll with a silly name, and found inside: Real intestines, real lungs, a beating heart and blood. A lot of hot, sticky blood." A fantasy made real.
A dream forged with reality. But in a makeshift way. In a way that makes it so you're never really sure if it's a dream, or if it is really happening..

Last night I was so tired of wishing for you.
I just want your hand curled in mine. I don't want to have to wait, even though I know it's what is best. For you. For both of us.

I'm just so.. I'm just so exhausted. I feel like a stranger when I'm away from you. I feel like.. I feel like a day not spent breathing in the sun beside you is a day put to waste. Sometimes when I'm listening to you speak I feel like.. like maybe the human race isn't so bad. Like maybe we have a chance. If there were more people like you.
If I could be more like you.

And all the words to all the songs that remind me of your smile are popping into my head, but I want to express this by myself for once. I want to .. I want to realize what it is, what it is exactly that I'm feeling, and I want to tell you. But I know I could never do that. I'm so terrified of rejection. You know that old sports quote? The one about the fear of striking out? Well, it's bullshit, because telling a person how you feel has a lot higher stakes than hitting a fucking ball with a piece of wood.

I don't see how anyone could want to hurt you. How a girl could do what she did to you. How anyone could not.. care for you. Like I do. I just think.. I just think.. I mean. I know you're not perfect. Of course not. I'm not that stupid.. I just.. I just think sometimes that maybe you could feel the same way about me.

(Fucking optimism.)

God damn the black night

Stupid Cinderella bullshit. 12:30 my ass.

If I don't get to spend tomorrow with you, then I don't know what... the breakfast club, and Barack and Bright Eyes. Oh, there's no way I can miss out....

I'm scared
because what if this isn't one of those silly crushes I get when I start hanging out with new people? What if this is something different?

All I know is,
it's so hard to concentrate on Stephane and Stephanie when I can smell your cologne and I can hear you breathe and I can feel your leg brushing mine.

I hope I don't come on too strong. I hope I can eventually stop worrying.

No new years kiss, but your presence is intoxicating enough.