I never realized. . .

how much some things matter, and how little some do.

As I walked out of school yesterday, surprisingly warm in the chill weather, I finally realized something. I finally feel like a senior. I finally feel like I might be growing up. I don't know. Perhaps I over-exaggerate. But yesterday, as I crossed the snow-covered road and opened the small, metal gate, and walked down the sidewalk toward my house, I finally felt older. I felt calm. I felt above it all. Not to say nothing mattered, but simply that nothing felt as huge as it once did. Everything seemed smaller, I felt taller, and things seemed manageable for once. And I really do feel taller. I feel as though I've finally shed the skin of that teenager I once was, ready to throw my shoulders back and lift my chin and say "To hell with it, bring it on." Nothing is impossible, anymore.

Again, I believe I over-exaggerate, but still. Thursday I taught myself to understand my math homework, and I did. I learned it, and I finished my homework, and I took my test. And I felt confident doing it. It was amazing, remarkable. I have no words.

Another point, instead of fearing college, I'm almost anxious for it. I want to just get it over with. Or at least, the first awkward week or so. I just want to finish growing up and get it over with.

Since it's official that I am one of ten valedictorians at my school, and we had a meeting with the principal on Friday, I now have the option of doing a speech, or not, in front of the entire class and everyone else who decides to attend graduation. Um, intimidating much? I'm halfway confident that I could write a decent speech, I'm not anywhere near to being sure if I would be able to deliver it. I have a hard enough time with a single class of less than thirty people. Try a class of 379, all of their parents, and a large portion of the faculty of my school. Shit. That sounds a lot. *clears throat* Well, I have (counts on fingers) three months to figure it out, don't I?

Anyway, I have to go get ready now. I have to be decent by 6:30, while still reading the book I started this afternoon. Which gives me about two and a half hours. Oh dear. That could be problematic. But it's nothing, in the long run. I can do this. It's a drop of water in the ocean.

So say it with me, "Bring it on." (And no, we really really really aren't thinking about that movie of a similar title. Unfortunately, it just popped into my head, and damn it all if I will think about it any longer. Cliched phrase, but that tends to happen when people have been thinking and talking and writing for well over two thousand years. Sometimes, you've really got nothing else but cliched phrases in this world. *sighs* Enough rambling, time to go.)

;)

As I said before, and maybe I'll believe it now: everything will work out in the end, everything'll be alright. I just never realized it before.

I wonder, is it just me who finds some of the music I listen to ironic, considering what I actually believe in? It's a good song, though. I hold no prejudices against something that might make me feel better. It's something I couldn't do.

for today . . .

I can't say I know how it feels. I really don't. But the hard part is that I have the imagination to know, to see how I would feel. All I can say is, if it hurts me this much now, how much does it hurt them? And to think, I wanted to do this, almost did this, once.

Ignore me for now. It's okay.

If life is fleeting, save those moments for those you care about. Don't let a second go to waste.

Truly, still?

I feel like something is missing.

Can I say only this? After everything that has happened?

It feels like too little, and too much.

I'm on repeat. Forgive me.

I need to get some sleep. It's barely nine o'clock, but I feel I should get to sleep.

I need to think, and I need to think up a different bloody phrase. I'm being selfish, this isn't what people want to think about at the moment.

Yes. That's it, now I think on it. I feel extremely self-centered at this very moment. I feel juvenile. I'll go to bed.

I hope things work out. Not just for me.

I'm very contemplative tonight. Perhaps I'll figure something out. If I do, I'll let you know. Guaranteed, I'll let you know.

Your Guardian Angel - Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

Multivitamin A-Zinc. Huh.

I feel like I'm bobbing aimlessly in the middle of the sea. I have to mentally tell myself to do something. I don't really know what to do. I'm not hungry, yet I know I have to eat. I don't have to get ready, yet I have to maintain the outward appearance of everything being just as it always is, of everything being fine, so that my sister doesn't suspect.

Eat breakfast, take a vitamin, get dressed, make lunch, etc.

Let everything go on as if it's normal . . . as usual, there is no normal.

It feels as though everytime I finally get ahead, I get bumped back another few spaces. I have to mentally exhaust myself just to maintain where I'm at, and physically drain myself just to get ahead. And it's sad how true that is. I need to stop wallowing. I just have to stay . . . dry, until my sister leaves. That's about half an hour. Then I can have my little sobbing session, and get on with my day. I need to do something, anything. Just something to keep me busy. Something, something, something. Like typing. Perhaps I'll write on my book. Or write a poem. Yeah, a happy one, I can do that . . . I think. Or email my teachers, ask them for homework. Well, not really ask for homework, but ask what we're doing in class today, that I'll miss, or rather, that I won't be there to do. I won't really miss it, personally. But it is busy work, so maybe in a way I do miss it.

Shit. I'm not making any sense, and I probably sound as if I'm about to lose my mind, or blow my lid, or whatever that saying is. Perhaps I should go now. I'll update eventually, so you'll know whether I've suddenly gone insane or not. For now, I need to find some sort of alternative to listening to music until my MP3 is charged. Damn. I knew I should have charged it last night when it died. No matter. I'll survive, I always do, somehow. I just wish I knew how.

Morning - done.

I feel a sense of, well not really futility, but almost. What on earth am I supposed to do? I mean, of course I'm going to stay home, do I honestly sound like the kind of person who will struggle to find a way to go to school when I never really want to go? I have the opportunity to stay home, and not of my own reasons.

I want to cry for some reason, and yet I'm also thinking up what I will say to L. if she brings up how I shouldn't be staying home so often, I'll go over my days, how stupid I'm being, and so on, and I'm imagining a sharp rebuttal. In my head, I get angry at her. You know what? That's called 'displacement.' Yay, psychology does have some bloody relevance in my life, and it seems I do have the ability to remember it and apply it. Yes, straight face to write this. No, this doesn't make much sense.

I find getting angry is so much better than getting sad, yelling infinitely preferable to crying. But, don't you need something to yell at, someone? I don't have anyone. Unless I yell at myself, or I yell at my cats. The latter of which doesn't really deserve it, the former I'm not so sure about. But in either cases, will it be altogether sane if I do so at random? Especially if I've been crying. No. Not really. But what the hell am I supposed to do?

My mom is drunk, unable to drive me to school. I hate asking for rides, I hate asking for favors, and I really hate letting other people know how fucked up my life is. Wouldn't it be the best option if I simply pretend like today was just another one of those days that I don't really want to go to school. Fuck, now I'm crying. And both my cats are staring at me. Always an audience when you least want it.

Deep breaths. I need to wake my sister now so she can get ready for work. She can't know that I've been crying. After all, mommy says don't let her know. Don't let her know that I have to stay home because she has to drink. Fuck. Why does this have to seem so hard?

Last Song Goodnight.

A Lotta Nerve - Allister

Such a cute video. Break-ups. They certainly are entertaining sometimes.

Umm, yeah.

I'm getting six hours of sleep at night, on school nights. Yay. :) That is extremely sad that that's three hours more than I've been getting for the past four months or so, but oh well. At least I am.

I dropped my Physics for another Study Hall. I've figured, or estimated, that I would have to go to bed at 8 o'clock to get a normal amount of sleep. At least I can get a lot of my homework done at school, hopefully. Hm. That's an issue. But I'm working on it.

Slowly, but surely. I don't really have anything I want to talk about, actually. I just needed to update on my blog that I had finished reading Persuasion (by Jane Austen). That's exciting news. I've read all six of her books now. :D

I'm writing on my book again (The Leaves of Autumn) and I'm at about 220 pages now. Yay! Lol. I finally found the inspiration to write this one scene that is absolutely crucial and that I've been wanting to write for a long time, as it has been sitting, unformed, inside my head for months. :D Now it's written, or the beginning of it is.

What else. Some books that just crossed my mind, that are related to Jane Austen in a way. If you feel like it, read them.

Austenland - Shannon Hale
Enthusiasm - Polly Shulman

They're fabulous. But, you've got to read the Jane Austen's books. Though not necessarily to read those two, you just need a general idea of the names or what happened in her books (of which there are 6). :D They're not that bad. Mansfield Park is my favorite, next to Persuasion. I can't remember how much I liked Emma, Pride and Prejudice was okay (it's highly over-publicized), Northanger Abbey was really short, and Sense and Sensibility was long. They're all good, don't get me wrong, but, hey, a girl's gotta have her preferences. ;)

I haven't really got much else to say. This entire post feels like a book review, or something to that effect. I haven't really spent much time on the computer, and I don't really want to anymore. Just to write on my book.

Anyway, I have to go now. Homework, books, and music are calling. :D

Pain - Three Days Grace
The Show - Lenka
Stars - Switchfoot
Second Chance - Shinedown
In Your Atmosphere - John Mayer
Can't Smile Without You - Barry Manilow

Enjoy. :)

Why Did I . . .

Get Married? (Tyler Perry's, y'all)

Did you get that? No? Okay, let me start a little further back.

I'm watching a movie with my sister right now. It is very funny, and is helping to lift me out of my mood at the moment. Some priceless lines in it, too. :)

It's called "Tyler Perry's Why did I get married?"

Oh, I just love it. Best movie I've seen in a while, which may not be saying much as I haven't seen that many movies recently. But still. It's very funny. :D Yes, I know I'm not working up much enthusiasm in my words, but that could just be me. Oh well.

It's good for laughing, and righteous indignation / yelling at assholes in the television screen. ;) Lol. I know. It's a movie about four married couples, and, well, I suppose you can fill in the details. Four very different couples that go on a vacation in the mountains together. :D Watch it, if you haven't already. Watch it and see.

Relient K

Who I Am Hates Who I Was - Relient K
Be My Escape - Relient K


I really need to get this CD. I'll have to make a deal with my mom, though. Damn.

This blog feels pointless.

So why do I write in it? I don't know, the illusion that someone is actually listening to me.

I'm going to talk about something that I don't talk about, really. It's an uncomfortable subject sometimes, I think. I'm getting fat. There, I said it. :D *shakes head* I mean, this is not good. Really not. No matter what I can't seem to work up the energy to work out anymore. I can't ride my bike, because there is still snow outside. And everytime I want to ride my treadmill, I always come up with one or another excuse. I'm sick of it. Bloody sick and tired of my own excuses. It's either too late in the evening, too early in the morning, or someone is taking a nap. Or like right now, I can't because I'm supposed to be waiting for some guy to come so he can repair our washing machine (again). That's the only reason why I'm up so outrageously early (9 o'clock. yes, that's outrageous to me). My stupid asshole of a cat woke me up at 630, because he wanted in. A quarter of an hour later, he wanted out, then he wanted in, then he wanted out, then he wanted in, and finally, by then, my other cat wanted in. I mean come on! Bloody bastard of a cat, I was ready to strangle him, literally, but he scurried under my bed the last time, so I couldn't get to him. *takes a moment to scream in frustration*

Deep breaths. Last week was absolute shit. I went to school Tuesday and Friday, and that was it. I just couldn't seem to get anything together. I have theory: the less I sleep, the more my chest hurts. I could believe it. It wasn't until Friday morning that the fog, the haze drifting over my mind, had lifted. I was in a good mood friday morning. Until I had to go to lunch and then math. *shakes head, jaw tightens* Bloody teacher gave the class a quiz, which I had to take, and out of seven problems - I could do one. It was multiple choice, we could use our calculator, but we had to show work. Unfortunately, I didn't know a damn thing. Every answer I got, even with the calculator, was wrong. I was so pissed off by the end of that. Oh, and we have a chapter test on Monday. Yep.

Plus, at lunch, I even yelled at my friend. She deserved it, with the way she was treating me last week. But still. It felt nice, I just wasn't able to stay angry for long. We were in the middle of the cafeteria. I wasn't able to get in the amount of yelling that I wanted to. I'm still pissed off. And everyone seems to be able to do obnoxious things with alarming regularity now. And every fucking time I bring up the fact that I need to drop one of my classes, because I can't handle this level of stress, one of my friends always feels fucking obligated to lecture me on how easy the class is, and how we don't really have a lot of homework, and I just want to tell them to fuck off! I know it's not a hard class. I understand that. I'm not an idiot. But it's getting to the point where I'm going to either, let's see, barely keep my head above the fucking surface, or drown. I'm trying to carry too much with me. I need to drop things. I simply, personally, can't handle this level of stress. It's too much for me, mentally and physically.

It hurts to breathe, it feels like a needle is in my heart, and tension headaches are becoming a regularity, now. I'm just not equal to this at the moment.

And then L. has decided that I'm her personal fucking psychologist or something. She uses me to word vomit to. Every day. I'm sick of her projecting her fucking life onto me, because it is always the same, and it always ruins my day. She brushes off my life, because she doesn't even care, and she always treats me like a fucking child. I'm reduced to elementary school status in her goddamn eyes. Because apparently, I can't think things through, I can't do things right, and I'm just plain stupid. She's superior, blah blah blah. Lectures, sure, from teachers, okay. From friends? Not a bloody chance in hell. She really just pisses me off now, I can't stand her. And the story we were supposed to be writing together? Yeah, she blew me off, let's see, count it, six times last week. "I'm just trying to focus on my scholarships, I'm not even going to look at them (the chapters, because she just has to edit my shit) until I've got everything done." Yeah. Fuck you. That's all I want to say to her. FUCK. YOU. But the main character was supposed to be based on her, which really just turns me off the entire story, frankly. I don't want to write about her, and every time the fucking character shows up in even the slightest of bad lights, she gets offended. Yeah. The character is not her. It's based on her. Just because she's a total bitch, doesn't mean the character is going to act like one, huh? Just because the character might go on one too many ranting rages, or acts like a fucking child, doesn't mean she does too. God! I just don't want to write the story anymore. And it's all her fault. If she wants to bug me with "oh, we need to work on the story" yeah, I'm just going to tell her, "not right now, I'm not even going to look at the story, at least not until I've got this or that done." If she wants to finally contribute to this story (which she wanted to begin in the first place), and not in the form of edits which ruin my own style of writing, she can just fuck off. I'm through with her. I'm going to write on my own book, so that I might actually get it finished by the end of the fucking year. I'm not going to waste my words on something that means so little to her. I'm not a door mat. And she needs to realize that.

But anyway. I'm still waiting for the fucking repairman to come. It's almost 930. This is getting obnoxious. And I'm really pissed off, if you can't tell. Thankfully, I haven't resorted to screaming at my computer screen yet. That would be bad.

Songs of choice?
Face Down - The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
Had Enough - Breaking Benjamin
They say it all.

Random shit.

La La Land - Demi Lovato
1, 2, 3, 4 - Plain White T's
Dreaming Out Loud - One Republic
The Diary of Jane - Breaking Benjamin (of course :)

I feel like I'm only listening to a select few songs, though. Like, just one or two.

I got a $10,000 scholarship. I just found out tonight. :D I was bouncing, literally. I hope I get the valedictorian scholarship, which can be up to $13,ooo. That would be the supreme of awesome. *grins*

I didn't do anything today. I tried to write a poem that wasn't stilted, wasn't so distanced. It's hard at the moment, the words seem to be pulling away from me a little. Or perhaps I never realized the level of concentration it takes to make a poem flow sometimes. I'm not really thinking.

I'm not really thinking, I didn't go to school today, I don't want to go tomorrow, I don't want to think. My chest hurts. Damn. I should put some clothes in the washer and just go to bed. *grimaces* I won't do that, though, will I?

Nope. Not a chance. *sighs*

Breaking Benjamin

The Diary of Jane - Breaking Benjamin

I've listened to this song about a hundred times in a row since last night. Yes, I'm sad like that. :D But it's a really good song, the perfect amount of yelling and not. Equal and ideal amounts. His voice is just amazing, and when he's screaming (or yelling, whatever you want to call it), it works too. Just the right quantity to fulfill when I really want some yelling going on. Like angry music, only not. Perfect. Yup. Oh, and I really like to watch the lead singer singing. :D Or his mouth, at the very least. And isn't it awesome how all the guys are moving to the same beat, moving the same way? Yes, I find that very cool, mesmerizing. ;)

So my mom is babysitting my nephew at the moment. He's two years old. But you want to guess what he said when she kept asking him if he wanted to take a nap or do something like that? "Nay!" Lol. Yup. I do not lie. He didn't say 'no' he said 'nay.' Such a little old man. :D

I don't feel like writing more. I want to feel the emptiness in my chest and maybe write a poem about it. Until later.

>_<

Just spent the entire night reading a fanfic. Oops. Lol.

But yes, it was that amazing. I couldn't stop, simply couldn't. :)

Pretty Girl

Read it. If it's the last thing you do. Lol.

I seem to be saying that a lot don't I? :D

Oops. Five in the morning, guess I have to start getting ready now.

>.<

And no, I didn't go to sleep at all. ;)

My HPFF Story Banner.

:D

Dorothy Parker

And this is why she's one of my favorite poets.

Resume
Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

Folk Tune
Other lads, their ways are daring:
Other lads, they're not afraid;
Other lads, they show they're caring;
Other lads - they know a maid.
Wiser Jock than ever you were,
Will's with gayer spirit blest,
Robin's kindlier and truer, -
Why should I love you the best?

Other lads, their eyes are bolder.
Young they are, and strong and slim,
Ned is straight and broad of shoulder,
Donald has a way with him.
David stands a head above you,
Dick's as brave as Lancelot, -
Why, ah why, then, should I love you?
Naturally, I do not.

If ever you can find her book, Enough Rope, read it cover to cover. She's the best.

And one last one:

News Item
Men seldom make passes
At girls who wear glasses.


. . . damn. ;)

Rain rain . . .

Rain rain, go away, come again some other day . . . .

Wow, random thought.

As you can see, I've changed my blog. I don't know if I like it. I can't decide. But I needed something different.

My life needs something different.

I just need to figure out what.

Eyes.

I feel like I'm one big sieve.

I'm trying to gather everything around me, but my hands are pierced with holes.

My god, I got into one college, and the other college (the first one I wanted to go to) says I need to turn in that Noncustodial Profile. Then the first wants me to send in some money to confirm that I want to go there, but I don't even know if the second will accept me or not. I don't know what to do. The other college asks for financial information from my father, a lot of information that I don't know, before they'll accept me. Yet he won't answer my mother's calls, he doesn't reply to my letters. I have no way of getting those things from him. I don't know what to do.

Anyway, here's a pic of my eyes. My face is wet, which is why I'm . . . glistening(?) I don't know. Perhaps that's only my imagination. I need to get some sleep. I don't like seeing that pink edge to the bottom of my eyes. It isn't good. Anyway, I need to go wallow in my own self pity and music.

PS. It's weird seeing myself without glasses in a picture.