people.

today was the hedley concert. in brockville. people were bitchy. pushing, kissing my boyfriends arm, running me down. then, i talked to him.

for a second, he heard me. i reached through time and space and past all forevers. then i talked about myself and said i loved him. it was over. eyes glazed up. he said "thanks".

but i'll never forget that when i told him he was the best writer in the world, he stopped signing autographs and asked me to repeat myself. green eyes penetrating my thought's skin. till i bled a little too much.

no more.

hello people. this is summer. it wasn't summer five minutes ago. it wasn't summer two seconds ago. it's only summer as i type the word now. now, whatever shall i do with this summer, golden and falling into winter then springing up again only to knock me down? thank it. live it. feel it. breath it. he made me cry today. thank god that he did. thank god he matters enough to make me cry. without him, i would have nothing left that mattered enough to make me cry. except for someone who already left. thank god for someone i can hold and sniffel with and someone i can kiss. i can never thank you all enough. and to be honest, i wouldn't want to. this isn't a thanking type thing, is it? summer is here and all i can say is, bring on the rain. i want to splash in puddles and hold his hand and kiss him. and maybe cry a bit too. i'm just glad i love him. even though i don't know what to do with it. but what would you do if someone handed you the sun and told you to have fun? put it out before you got burnt? bring on the burn. i'm holding on no matter what. nothing could make me let go. nothing. not even the promise of something easier to touch could beat out a pure yellow feeling. matt and natalia. him and me. and nothing will get in the way of that, even if it's sometimes hard to hold on. the day i give up? the day the cow jumps over the moon. and by moon i mean someone's bare ass. aka never. bring it on brotha. i gots a gun. don't test me or you fail. because this summer, all that matters is him, because he's all that matters to me.

pain.

it's hard to hurt yourself with a hair barette like
the silver beauty your mom always used to spike
across loose strands of honey blonde hair just to scare
you into believing you were less over there
in that place where the only real question was where
does forever start and how does it end and why
the fuck is he gone getting high and then say "hi"
to what you once knew as everything but now have
come to grips with nothing that can hurt.

he can't pronounce "love"

from other people by the names of "you" and "them"
and from this tree of lies, hair barettes start to stem
silver and gleaming reflecting the sun you want
but can't have since moonbeams look sharp and then taunt
you into believing that pain is what you need
until they touch your skin and then you know that weed
grows forever from an uncertain seed by day
and that really, there must be another way
because you aren't even looking at the sun
you're looking for another place that you can run
that's hidden by nights and hair clips.

Why don't you like me?

It's funny. I'm supposed to be honest with you so that you don't get confused. I can't. I love you. YOU FUCKING DONT LOVE ME. I don't get it. what do i do? How can i be honest when I'm so concerned that you don't love me?

how can i undo the fact that you don't? we fight so much. i'm sorry. why can't this happen.

miracle:

i wake up tomorrow to you calling me. we talk for half an hour. then, i hop a bus to come see you. we visit for half an hour. i leave to go practise my singing. you write your exam. you call me again at noon. we talk for half an hour. i go to my sisters graduation and you go golf. then, i hang out with becca. you call me at 9. you tell me you love me. we make plans for next year. we don't fight because you love me.

I want a knife.

I want it bad.

I know I'm not good enough..

FUCK! but i don't get why!

dedicated to sheryl.

my school is full of idiots. kids do drugs and have sex around every corner and bend in the road. guys act all maucho. girls flounce around, parading the air between their ears, as if it actually hold some weight. actually, in my school, it probably does. I lost the co-president elections a couple of weeks ago. Not because I didn't do the best job, run the best campaign or give the best speech. because i did. it was because when the school watched the speeches, this is what they saw: team 1 sucked team 2: sucked team 3 (us): spoke in intelligent tounges that they couldn't understand, a language they didn't speak themselves. team 4 brought break dancers team 5 popular. silly us for assuming that political skill, intelligence and personality were needed to win. all we needed was to get some guys to interrupt our speech and do the "solja boy" and we would have won. all the hours of sign making, getting up earlier than anyone ever should and asking people for their opinions was a waste. all we needed was to relax and get some people to get up and dance for us instead of making a speech. doing a good job is not valued in society. it's funny though, because being a success IS valued. people judge you based on your title, what your grades are, what you want to be, etc. it doesn't seem to matter what kind of person you are. my parents were convinced that matt was a great guy last year just because he wanted to be a brain surgeon and spent all of his time studying. but, he wasn't even nice enough to call. eric? now that he does drugs, people assume he must have been rude to me back when we were friends. darryl assumes eric must have swore at me, etc. he would be wrong. actually, once again, matt was worse in that department. you see? no one is smart enough in this society to bother to pay attention to a person's personality. they just ask them what they want to be. that must be an accurate reflection of who they are. (not)

the funniest part is, the people who do become "successes" probably didn't deserve it anyway. they probably break danced their way there. then, they get lost in it. forgetting that they are not made bigger by the title.

what kind of a world is it when our entire society is held together by judging people based on their accomplishments (for no reason) when the people who do accomplishs things most often aren't even talented/ don't deserve it?

it's screwed. it's like: prove yourself and be liked. but you can't prove yourself unless you're liked.

whatever. my best quality? i'm not like that. i don't try to win approval at all. i just focus on giving value. even if people don't see it, i'm worth a lot more. a lot more than they would even understand.

time

time slips away. i want to read this when i am finished. read it and analyze my life. there is no time. sheryl is here to pick me up for my exam. it just feels like, while i try to figure everything out, life is passing me by. i want to just live, but i can't until i know how i want to live; what would be the best possible approach. unfortunately, this leads to me missing everything. but i cannot stand the idea of living the wrong way. i dont want to screw up. i want to be honest, happy and get what i want.

but it isn't working and i dont know what to do. and no one wants to help.

but i need help. now.

Love.

Love is something that cannot be predicted or ended or started or defined. Or maybe I just don't know what I'm talking about. But, I digress. AKA I don't care if I'm wrong. I'm going to paint you a picture of sitting alone on a saturday night watching horror movies in the rain. Later, biking to return it. You meet them. They are not that beautiful. Yet. Until you aren't watching your horror movies alone ever
again. And the next time it rains, you have somewhere other than your house to be. And it never stops.

But how does it start? I'm not really sure. I'm too busy waiting for the rain to stop and the credits to be given where they are due. Then maybe I can finally get out of here. Hop on a bike and ride into the sunset and crash right into someone I didn't even notice because of the heat.

blah

it's 1:46 am. I feel like shit. Eric doesn't care anymore. He didn't answer me last time I said hi to him on msn, I fucking hate that boy. I really don't get what happened to us. Honestly, he was my best friend.

I've decided to just write non-stop everyday for ten minutes. We'll see how this goes.

My boobs are too small.

Today, I went down Matt's pants. It was fun. I pretended to be angry with him after though. I wasn't, just scared.

I watched brittany snatch eric away. Anybody could easily do that to me and Matt.

I can't believe I'm so tired.

I'm failing world religions.

Sometimes, I secretly want to do drugs. Sometimes, I wish I had gone with eric. Then, i would be with him. Then, I wouldn't be on the floor blogging because Matt doesn't give a shit.

It's funny, because me and eric were really close. We talked on the phone 24/7. He came over 24/7. I was his life.

My psychologist says that co dependant relationships. can't last past six years. I'm guessing the more co dependant one leaves.

Matt says he isnt sleeping with me until marriage. That is disappointing. I wanted to be his first, and he won't marry me.

I'm so exausted. I want to fall asleep in Matt's arms. too bad he's so mean.

this summer, he's going to his dad's.

tomorrow, I have a dance CPT to do in front of the school

I'm so tired. I'm failing world religions.

I need sleep.

I remember last year. It's funny. At the time I didn't like it but now....I miss him! Part of the reason I didnt like it though was because Matt was a jerk back then. He didn't bother to know me, just touched me in the forest.

I'm tired. Really tired. Three minutes left to go.

I need sleep.

Matt's a bitch.

I love him, even though he disconnected his phones. I love him, but not really. He doesn't love me after all.

We ran for co president. We lost. I'm tired. I'd do anything for sleep. Let's get married.

Kayla had a boyfriend for a little while there. His name is Lorenzo.

I want perfect hair and skin. I want love. But, not as badly as I want sleep right now.

Fucking Matt moron. You say you want sleep? Try being me. You stupid, lousy, boring fish bitch.

it's over.

i don't know who the fuck you think you are, or why you think it's okay to pretend you don't care what i'm saying. i don't know why you bitch and moan about not getting enough sleep when you clearly get more than i do. i don't get why you think you are the most important person on the goddamn planet. i don't know what gives you the idea that you can get me to go down your pants and not feel bad about it. i DONT LIKE STUFF LIKE THAT. i'm going to feel like shit after. you are not retarded. you must know that. stop trying to guilt me into things. because you know what? i'm not all that concerned about weather or not you like me. i mean, i am. but not to the point of begging. i'm just a pretty good manipulator. and you fall for it everytime. but what i cannot stand is people trying to manipulate me. because it's annoying. i have to play along, even when the person is a fucking idiot. i have to pretend i'm not right and that i'm sorry, even when the other person's being a moron. because if i dont pretend to fall for it, you'll leave. or not believe me when i manipulate you.



look. i'm not good with honesty. i mean, i find my emotions to be honest, so actually telling the truth is hard. i'd rather express how i'm feeling (with blogs or violent words, etc.) saying things that are less than true, than explain but have it be boring.

that would make me feel like i was leaving something out.

so yeah. this is how i feel about us right now.

you are a camel who thinks he's the only mirage in my fucking desert.

kill yourself.

except, not really.

<3

sometimes

sometimes, there isn't much you can do except review what you already know. I mean, seriously. What can I possibly do about anything? What can I do about the fact that he does drugs and doesn't give a shit about being my friend anymore? What the fuck am I supposed to do when my boyfriend is fabulous, but doesn't understand the value of what we have? I can't make them grow a brain. I guess some would say, forget the friend and dump the boyfriend, but I can't. I can't do either. Because I kind of love them, to be honest, and it isn't their job to be what I want them to be. I mean, me and my boyfriend fight everyday. There's a definate clash in our relationship. I wish he was different. He wishes I was different. Except, not really. When it comes right down to it, we are fine with our differences. Sure, it bothers me that he sees us differently. But I understand. And I still love him. I'm convinced that I'm not an idiot for that. I wasn't an idiot last year either, even though he never spoke to me unless he wanted something from me sexually.Because I knew he was disregarding me, but I understood that it wasn't as though he didn't like me. All's fair in love and war, and I was free to leave. But I didn't want to, because I loved him. After awhile, I didn't love it so much anymore, so we parted until he was ready to value me more. But, he still doesn't value me the way I would want. I mean, I'm not dating him for fun. At all. I'm extremely serious about him. I want to marry him. Kind of. I mean, I guess if he leaves, he's a flake anyway and who cares. Except, to be honest I care. And I can't do anything about that. Everybody is always trying to manage their lives and keep things together. I say, why? I mean, I'm all for people living the lives they want. I understand that people need to go for what they want and not jsut hide. But sometimes, what people want requires them to hide. Not dishonestly, but just because they have no other option. It's a choice of follow your dream and hide or don't and be hunted down and killed. I never want to hide. But if I'm standing out in the open for no reason, that seems even worse to me. It's more honest to hide.

nothing

there is nothing i could possibly do to make this place better. it's shit, it always will be shit. beyond that, i don't fucking care. i lost the co-president elections today. good. i didn't deserve to win. but the people who did win deserved it even less than us. it's disgusting. the lies people tell. i hate that i'm not honest either. but i really don't care. i mean, i can't be honest. i can't tell people that i dont feel like getting up in the morning. i cant eat spaghetti every meal of the day. i can't write 24/7. i've gotta be fake, go to school. i don't know why. but i do know that for some reason, getting out of bed in the morning is easier than explaining that i don't want to. being fake is easier than being real. which, when you think about it, makes no sense. i don't know why it would be harder. probably because everyone would stomp and scream and stamp their feet and bitch and moan. and make you what they wanted anyway. it's not like i'm lazy though. it's not like i dont want to do anything. it's just i think other things are more important. he's more important. searching is more important. even when there's nothing to be found. i am convinced that for me, i am right. but there's no telling them that. i'd rather just save myself the hassle.

tomorrow morning, if i were to wake up and be completely honest, i would sleep till noon. my parents would not call the school. i would be suspended. i would go to my grandmother's. write. then, talk to him all night. i would never go to school again. school is a waste of time. it's not that i don't like learning. it's that i don't like sitting doing fuck all. school is a waste. i'd rather learn online or from a parent. or from friends. experiences.

it's hard to know where to draw the honesty line. i have no fucking clue. right now, lies that come around and eventually end up getting me where i need to be seem honest in a self-evident kind of way. they prove what i really want.

but, they are probably pretty fake. why does being fake seem to come naturally for me? is there any other way of being honest? how when we are taught to supress ourselves?

thanks for the diss.

whenever i look back on what happened last year, i think of this and him. his hair was dark, your felts were dark and now, my stories are darkest of all. and blue is not black. i know that now. and cinderella story really doesnt seem so bad after all. even though her dad is dead. i think of beer. and the fact that i really didnt nneed that last one to get drunk last year. just like i didn't need that kiss to feel that you liuke me. but i kind of wanted it. things are no fun unless they are overdone. i hate getting caught up in something, and forgetting that nothing matters. fuck. you can't keep looking over your shoulder all the time just becaus you want to look back at me. i don't give a fuick. and swearing isn;'t just for sailors. i don't even know how to work the water. but i get angry too, sometimes for no good reason. but your name comes up a lot too. and i don't know if you catch me everytime i fall or if you're the one tripping me. all i know is you'rea lways there. telling me there's more to be done. and that i'm not quite finished yet. but you make me stop.

or start.

i don't know which.

but i love every minute of it.

sometimes

sometimes, you can feel it inside. at least, that's what the kid from sixth sense says. personally, i feel nothing. i feel fuck all. shit nothing. blank. dear blank, i'm sorry i blanked your blank, but you'd understand if you knew how much beer that i drank (none). I have an arm full of nothing and a boy full of hugs. And all i can do is promise nothing. i'm already as good as it gets. and no amount of water and kisses will change that. no victories. but i can try. try for nothing and probably get it. unless by some godforsaken chance i happen to stumble past time and into your future. which i doubt. and then i'll be open at the wrist and heart and sould and not sound so goddamn apathetic. just like my entire fucking world. and then the back gate might be useful again. and i wouldn't be alone. or bothered. like now. bye.

no.

if roses were butterflies then i would be more
than anything you could get from that saggy whore
and pink would be sunset, not the sky but the real
sun and no one would decide not to take the deal
on that tv show that no one would watch until
you came back, so i could see it with you and will
you ever care enough to miss me back?

No.

There are so many things I want, but I'm not quite sure why. I made Matt come write the speeches with me today. I don't know why. I could have written them myself. I would have been fine. But that's just it. Fucked Internally Nice Exterior. I would have been freaking. I don't get why he doesn't care. I tried to cut today. It didn't work. Melodramatics really do calm a person down though. I mean, I'm not an emo and I know it. But I am emotional. I'm not a poser. I don't act like someone who sits in dark corners all the time.But my favourite place to be is my basement. Anyway, it's kind of disappointing to know that you can't dice skin like vegetables. I was actually too afraid to cut myself deep enough. I mean, I got scratches, but no actual blood. Also, I didn't do it on my wrist. Just near my elbow. I feel disgusting. It's so hot out. My friend Josh just came to my door. He's cute. Too bad he's insane. He's nice, but not all that caring either. Me and Matt broke up today for about half an hour. He's never dumped me before. I just don't know how to hold it all together. Back in the day, I would have talked to Eric about it. But, talking about it never solved anything, and I'm thinking maybe Matt was right when he said I didn't face life. I mean, he was wrong when he said I was scared to, but he was right that I didn't. I just didn't want to. What kind of a life is it anyway? One where you call someone your best friend just because they promise not to leave. I mean, when all you can get from someone is a half assed promise to stay, you really aren't getting much, are you? Anyone can stay. This isn't all about not being lonely. Is it? Probably. So why not just shut yourself away? Anyway, I don't really shut myself up so much anymore. I bubble over like a pepsi can shook and released. I hae so much to say. I talk until the origional drink is just foam. Trying to cut wasn't poserish, because I didn't do it for an image. I did it to see how it felt. I did it to pretend, sure. But only to myself. I tried to imagine an easier world, where self-destruction actually made sense to me. That would be so much easier. As it is, I'm stuck wishing for a better tomorrow, when I don't thin there is one. And, I think wishes wreck everything. The only reason it's amazing when a friend stays, is because they sacrifice their other wants for you. Wishes make people leave. Dreams destroy reality. I dream of an ugly duckling disguised as a swan. In reality, I ain't got no birds, just people. And it isn't enough.

period diet.

words escaping my already parted lips in
waves that can only be described as written sin
moments we thought would last forever but then left
us alone to mingle in the dirt, start the theft
of what we once knew to be ours but now belongs
to someone else who knows no rights from lefts or wrongs
and that stupid son of a bitch who took him was
someone who we all could identify with cuz
when it came right down to it, he was just a pawn
anyway, a lousy little old devil's spawn
who i just happened to be in love with.

leaky.

if i were to describe what i am in a word, i would say leaky. my eyes cry when i don't want them to. i tell stories i don't want to share. i am what i don't want.

more than that, there's this picture in my mind. a little girl is holding a daisy. her job is to pluck the petals. then, she eats the daisy without warning. she's crying. that girl is me. until i wake up. then, i'm even more me. because i can never stick to who i think i am. i see this picture in my mind of what i think i am. then i figure out that that's just a picture. there's really a whole other side of my face and i'm not always smiling. i have more pimples than that photo shows. i am really not as fat as i look from that angle. i don't even like the colour green, i only wore the shirt to blend in with the grass. and then i move. nothing like a photograph.

i'm lost.

i'd say leaky because it's like i'm holding water in my hands. except, my hands is really my whole body. water trickles through my fingers and drips to the floor. it's hard to decide which is more me. the excess drops or the still sip.

i want to linger.

right now i think i'm the raindrop, the teardrop, the sweat drop. but im not calm and still by any means. it's just, i know that i could be. so i wish i were completely contained. that way, i would know what i am. but maybe i'm meant to be a drifter. the last drop of water that everyone forgot.

who knows?

i want

its almost as if i want to love who i am, but i'm just a self-hating person. so how can i love myself for hating myself? is that even possible?

maybe eric did it.

...probably not though. i'm willing to bet that he hates hating himself and just thinks it looks like the best option. or the most fun option. me? i hate hating myself and i don' t think it's a good option. who loves hating themselves? anyone?

probably not anyone sane.

now what?

no one appears to have helped.

it's a thunderstorm outside. i probably shouldn't be writing this. his dark eyes hide the upmost shame. my blue eyes hold permanent tears. and his green ones? well, they aren't even completely green. outlined in a depressing blue, his eyes express a natural hue with a fiery core. sunglasses make everything so goddamn impersonal. good thing there's no sun. there's no need to pretend that things are going to look brighter either. so, we are all free to be real and expose our naked eye. one thing that disgusts me is the lips. the burnt, unused lips. it hurts. he doesn't like touching me anymore. i don't get what i did wrong. 33 days. stinky socks. a lonely girl. i mean, sure. it's better to keep things special. i'd like him to like me for more than my shell. but to be honest, he isn't making it special. it should be a decision not to touch. not that he just doesn't feel like it. i want to cry. then again, i always do. blue eyed monster. and i hate myself. i hate every single second i spend not knowing what to do with it all. i feel that the rain falling down is actually a part of the stuff crashing from beneath my eyelids. falling. clinging. to. nothing. hitting. the ground. but what does it matter? i want it to matter though. but, making it matter wouldn't mean a fucking thing.

fuck.

are you ever lonely? do you ever miss people? no. he doesnt. he's a fucking idiot. he wouldn't know life if it smacked him in the face.

what's funniest of all is, when he reads these blogs, he thinks i'm just stupid. elementary thought. not that complex. well what the fuck buddy. if it's so simple, why not admit that you understand when i try to talk about it in person? oh yeah. it's because there's something you don't know. you're not the only person in the world.

and don't be so egotistical. that IS relevant.

i'm not the only one that needs people. and if you could just stop making me feel so useless, maybe i wouldn't beg so much. or worry.

why wouldn't i worry? people fall in love out of need.

you don't need anyone. least of all me.

when i say i'm not good enough, that's because you don't even want me to be.

but i need you.

badly.

i love you.

but it's bad.

but im talking to you soon i guess. i just dont have a lot of reasons for doing anything other than waste time.







when i started this blog, it was to find a place where i could really be myself.

it's interesting that this is what i've turned out to be.

needing.

???what?


maybe nothing.

if so, i'm in luck.

because this world is full of nothing.
everything tastes empty. and that's my favourite flavour.

yours?