Dreams

Dreams confuse me. I had a bad one last night. But I know where it came from. I was thinking about a senario and then, it played out in my dreams. Which unfortunatley furthers my suspision and paranoia. Hmnmppppffff.

And now I've got to get that image out of my head. Oh how I hate those dreams that stick with you.

And Now

Christmas was over, and it was a mighty fine Christmas :) One of the best, I think. I worked my bum off and I'm very pleased with how everything worked out. Plus I got a billion and one pairs of lovely earings :D.

And now, social plans? Oh and a poetry project...........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................


Which I left everytthing I need for at school. Because I'm silly. Bah hum bug.

Ah welllll, poem writing, here I come!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Take me into your confindence, with confidence..

What is the point of having people to confide in, if you can never really confide everything to them. Sharing a little bit of what's going on inside, makes you want to share more but the more you share the farther away your listeners get. How personal is too personal? And why is spilling the beans so addicitive?

Everyone knows it's enthralling to talk about other people, but everyone (in different degrees) likes to talk about themselves. It ranges from those who like inadvertantly letting everyone know how much they drank last weekend and how many people they hooked up with to those who only share little tid bits, like finally sharing the name of the boy they've been crushing on with there friends. Everyone who tells, is looking for something in return: a high. A high they get of the attention, and the excitment, whether it's good or bad. Person number one doesn't care if everyone is calling them a slut, at least they're talking about them. And person number two loves the big grins that spread across they're friends faces, and the exclamations of "aww you two would be so cute...". But the more you share, the less exciting the reactions become. People stop caring and you and your drama become old news. But you're addicted, so you keep sharing, trying to tweek someone's interest, until you have no more to share. Nothing more to tell the world about you. And you feel kind of empty. They know everything about you, and there's nothing left inside, because they don't care anymore. The slut can get no sluttier and the timid one no longer excites with her news,, because it's not news. But they just keep talking. Sharing every thought that goes through there head as they waste away. And eventually they leave, they find someone else to confide in, someone who doesn't know anything and who will feed the monster inside.

Christmas Is Killing Me.

It's that time of year; not only is it Christmas, it's stress-season but Christmas is not solely at fault. It is the end of the year, the end of everything. Everything in the natural world is dying, but I prefer to think of it as restarting the cycle. Within humanity, it is this time of year that people change, start thinking about their futures and their lives. They shed themselves of the "me" of last year and start on a new one. But they can't always let go, no matter how much they want to. They want to celebrate and rid themselves of their own stress but can't find anyone to celebrate with because they have changed, they aren't the friend they once were, not the daughter or son, not the person they used to be and other people have a hard time understanding that, regardless of their own personal fluctuation. Nobody likes change, but everyone likes to change.

I feel like I am shedding a skin, a hard task when you have so much to do. I want to curl up and hibernate but I can't. There are turkeys to cook and houses to clean; not to mention the presents to buy. All I wanted for Christmas was to have my family at my house on Christmas eve, and I'm thrilled that they are, but Christmas has, once again, snuck up on me. It has taken me by suprise. The semester is nearly over and my grades are slipping, but who has the time for school work? Biology is going to slaughter my grade average, but there's no time to study. I have to remodel myself, I have to please those around me and say good bye to those of whoms crap I refuse to continue to put up with. But I can't. I can't do this all at once.

8 days in a week, I need 8 days in each week. Two days for school, two days for friends, two days for work, and two days for me.
But who am I kidding. It would be six days for friends and two days for work and school pushed together.


What I listened to while I wrote this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CoNHlJ_TZLI&feature=fvsr

Hold me Close

Whirling, Spinning, Turning.
Never quite sure where I will land,
Or who I will be, when I get there.

Upside down, inside out?
One moment I'm sure;
The next, I'm not convinced.

My morals, my ideals, say one thing.
But my actions and my words, they say another.
Which part am I?

Which part is me?
Whirling, Spinning, Turning.
Upside out, Inside down?

Morals. Actions.
Ideals, words.
Me?

To Read A Book

What are you thinking?
What's behind what you're doing?

I have instincts of course.
I can guess, and I can trust my guess.
But I won't.
I can't just believe me.

What if I'm wrong?
What if I'm so wrong.
What if, what if, what if?

Bus Poem

I am the common denominator
In this equation
It is a title that I
Freely give out.

I am the common denominator
And yet I find myself searching
For someone to blame
I find myself here too often
And yet I cannot find a way
To blame me

Maybe I see
That it is me
That it is my fault
But I do not see
How

So I am the common denominator
And the question is not who, but how.

Music to my Ears

There is a song for every moment and every emotion. There is something very comforting about slipping ear buds into your ears and pressing play. Sometimes you have to hit the next button a few, or a few hundred, times but it is always worth it. Be it the words or the music, there is always a melody that you can relax into. It is the audio version of your favourite arm chair, the one that's big enough for you to tuck your feet under your bum and rest your head on the back cushion. Maybe it is not just a song, but an entire album, band or play-list. At times, your whole body settles into the music. Either your head starts to loose control and bob along to the beat, or you leg muscles twitch along and if they don't you can feel it inside your head, bouncing off the walls and rearranging thoughts.

It is not the same as playing music. Playing music requires focus and concentration. You cannot sit back, you must sit up and pay attention to where your fingers are going. Unless that is, you have become so comfortable with you instrument that you can sit back and just listen as your body creates music all by itself.

My comfortable music?
Mother Mother
John Mayer
Mumford and Sons

Brain Dead

Absolutely brain dead. I couldn't think of a topic for my writing assignment, so I thought I'd blog; get my post in for the week. And what happens? Nothing. The annoying little cursor blinks at me in the title box, teasing me. So, of course, I go on google. First I google images of how I'm feeling, and that goes no where. Then I thought I'd look up "thought provoking questions" to provoke thoughts. Guess how well that worked out? Most of them asked things like: "can you be corned in a circlular room?" or "if pizza is round, why does it go in a square box?"

 That. Is. Not. Thought. Provoking. My. Thoughts. Have. Not. Been. Provoked.

Yes, you can be cornered in a circular room. To be "cornered" is to be surrounded. So you could be cornered anywhere in anyroom. You could even be corned in middle. Sort of.

And pizza is in a square box because it is in a square box. Because boxes are sqaure.

Like 20 questions, but not.

THE BEGINNING:
200. My middle name: Alexandra, Benbow
199. I was born on: June the 20th, 1993
198. I am really: uncomfortable with my life atm moment
196. My eye colour is: greenish, blueish, sometimes greyish.
195. My shoe size is: too big for my liking.
194. My ring size is: depends who's asking.
193. My height is: 5'7?
192. I am allergic to: penicillian
191. I was born in: Victoria :)
190. I live in: Sidney
189. The last book I read: Escape to Beulah, by Anne Cameron
188. My bed is: warm and cozy, and my favourite place...except when the bottom sheet slips off on one corner.
187: One thing you hate about yourself: some of my views, the stupid negative ones.
186: Is beauty reality or perception? perception
185: What scent do you wear?: generally, a vanilla body spray.
184: Do you sleep with a stuffed animal?: Sleep with? No. Theres a build a bear my friend got me on my bed and a large bear that's more of a pillow.
179. My favorite Holiday is: thanksgiving, but only for the pumpkin pie :)
178. The perfect kiss is: with someone you love
177. The last three cd's I bought are: erm...
176. Last song that made me cry was: Sigh No More, by Mumford and sons.
175. Are you single or taken?: single
174. If you're taken, by who?: x
173. Do you like being single?: At first I did, now..not so much. It's kind of an empty lonely feeling that I hate. Now I've had a taste of companionship-the kind you can't get from a friend-I want more.
170. What did you do last night?: watched stupid tv by myself and then slept :P
171. What's one thing that really bugs you?: ignorance, though I'm guilty of it.
RANDOM:
169. First off, you like boys right? yes
168. Ever kissed a Mike, Kevin, or Nick? no
167. Do you tend to fall for players? no
166. Will you have a boyfriend in 2 months? here's hoping
175. Have you ever had a best friend? Yeah. But I get attached. And then hurt. I should be my own best friend
164. Last person you talked on the phone with? Sammy? Or my dad?
163. Did you have any unread text messages this morning when you i woke up? no
162. Where was your default picture taken? on the blog? my moms house...back when I liked my laptop and it was willing to work for me
161. Name something you dislike about the day you're having? getting picked on. even though it was by people I love and love me and it was just jokes...I really can't take it.
160. Is there anybody you're disappointed in right now? no. if anyone, myself? but not really
159. If you are being extremely quiet what does that mean? haha, me quiet? it prolly means I'm way over tired or way overthinking something
158. Are you happy? generally...not bursting atm but it is 1:23 AM
157. Do you think your life story would make a great movie? eh, no
TRUE/FALSE
156. I am a cuddler— true
155. I am a morning person— False
154. I am a perfectionist— 50/50
153. I am an only child-- true
152. I am Catholic-- False
151. I am currently in my pajamas— true
150. I enjoy country music— theres the odd song
149. I am okay at styling other people’s hair-- not really
148. I am left handed-- False
147. I like someone— interests...maybe? but I'm not really over the last guy-as much as that frustrates me
146. I am very shy around the opposite gender-- yeah I guess so, it depends on who ...
145. I can be paranoid at times— True
144. I currently regret something that I have said— False
143. When I get mad I curse frequently— hahaha yes.
YES OR NO / I BELIEVE IN:
142. Love at first sight?: want to believe in? but I'd never trust it :P
141. Luck?: yes and no
140. Fate?: If it's mean't to be, it's mean't to be.
139. Yourself?: sometimes yes, sometimes no
137. Heaven? I believe there's something.
135.Ghosts?: spirits... yes.
134. Horoscopes?: sometimes. But mostly we read into them too much.
133. Soulmates?: Yes...no...yess...maybe?
WHICH IS BETTER?
129. Hugs or Kisses?: hugs. always hugs.
128. Drunk or High?: drunk
127. Phone or Online?: person.
126. Red heads or Black hair?: black
125. Blondes or Brunettes?: blondes!
124. Hot or cold?: balance
123. Summer or winter?: i used to prefer summer...now i'm thinking winter. but snowy winter. not this stupid rain all the time
121. Chocolate or vanilla?: Vanilla
120. Night or Day?: night
119. Oranges or Apples? apples.
118. Curly or Straight hair?: Straight
WHAT I THINK ABOUT:
116. Abortion?: to each their own.
115. Backstabbers?: fool me once shame on you, fool me twice: shame on me
114. Parents?: I have good ones
LAST TIME I:
103. Went out of town?: tooooo long ago
102. Had food?: hmm...during the movie around 9...maybe?
101. Seen someone I haven't seen in a while?: still haven;t seen them?
100. Cried in front of someone?: other then my dad...prolly about 5 months ago
MISCELLANEOUS:
90. Who is the most ditsy person you know: everyone has there moments...I'm pretty bad :P
89. Who makes you laugh the most: Dan from badminton
87. The last movie I watched: Nightmare on elm street.
82. What I don't understand is: why i'm still awake
80. The most unsatisfactory answer I've ever received is: no response. I hate it when people just don't respond.
75. The thing that I'm looking forward to the most: the possibility of going to europe this summer...though it doesn't look good
74. The thing that I'm not looking forward to is: this week.
73. Tomorrow: im..: getting up early and doing stuff I meant to do earlier in the weekend then hanging out with Leona and then going to my moms
72. Today: Productive. Should've been fun, but I was somewhere else
71. Next Summer: has yet to be planned
70. Next Week: full of things to do
67. People call me: stupid. a lot. I'm thinking about dying my hair.
66. Do you have any regrets?: yeah. none I can think of now of course
65. What are you afraid of?: failing
64. Who do you miss: Tronje.
63. Are you happy?: yes?
62. The person who knows the most about me is: I don't even know yet :P
59. I have gotten a speeding ticket: I don't even have my N ...ahaha
56. My zodiac sign is: Gemini
55. The first person I talked to today was: My dad
54. First time you had a crush: I didn't realize it was a crush
53. The one person I can't hide things from: prolly my dad...or sammy
52. Last time someone said something that you were thinking?: who remembers these things
51. Right now I am talking to: the computer
50. What is your dream job?: teacher.
49. First job?: butchart gardens: fire prevention! sounds important doesn't it :P
48. I have/will get a job at? I'm hoping to get one soon
47. I have this pet: three cats
46. I hope: i can get everything done and not disappoint
45. The worst sound in the world: stupid people going on and on and on
44. The person(s) that makes me cry the most is: prolly my dad...or myself
35. Florida or Hawaii: hawaii
33. My favorite piece of clothing is: my big old man sweater
32. My favorite sport is: badminton :)
31. Last time I cried: Halloween?
30. My friends are: good friends.but my expectations are too high
29. My computer is: really annoying
28. The school I go to is: Parkland Secondary
27. Last person I got mad at: Me padre
22. The all-time best movie is: there are lots of good ones ;P
21. The all-time best thing in the world is: love
18. The most annoying person you know is: my moms boyfriend
17. I lose all respect for people who: have no respect for themselves.
16. The movies I have cried at are: any movie that has someone crying in it. just the sight gets my weeping
13. Favorite web site: i hate technology
12. I want to be: content
11. The worst pain I was ever in was/is?: was more of a numb emptiness when Tronje left
10. My favorite word is: fuck
9. My room is: really really really messy. one of my things "to do"
8. My favorite celebrity: who cares. they're just people with too much money.
5. My weakness is: i over think and over think and over think. oh and sweets. I have a killer sweet tooth
4. What I like about the opposite sex: they are so so so easy to get along with. everythings simpler and nice and you feel liked and welcome
3. Who broke your heart: it broke by itself-twas no ones fault
2. One thing that makes you feel great: power
1. You filled out 200 questions because: it's 1:42 am and I can't sleep :)

Subtext.

Jack is the father of a teenage son, Robert.

Jack: Hello?!
Robert: Oh, hey.
Jack: I'm home!
Robert: No shit?
Jack: How was your-
Robert(interupting): Don't ask.
Jack(exasperated): Up to you!

Robert trips on the cat.
Robert: What the fuck?!
Jack(sharply): Calm down.
Robert: Calm down?!
Jack: I'll just go...
Robert: Leaving again, eh?!
Jack(angry): What?!
Robert(ashamed): nothing.
Jack: You're damn right.

Jack leaves.

Later, Robert walks in room where Jack is.
Robert: Hey...
Jack looks up.
Robert: Your day okay?
Jack: Coulda been better.
Robert: What happened?
Jack: Nothing special.
Robert: So, what's wrong?
Jack: Nothing happened.
Robert: Ooh, Julia...?
Jack: ...didn't show.
Robert: Shit, I'm...
Jack: Don't be.
Robert looks down.
Jack: and your day?
Robert: good.
Jack: Then why...?
Robert: I was pissed.
Jack: at?
Robert: you!
Jack: Oh...uh..
Robert: you forgot.
PAUSE
Jack: I didn't forget.
Robert: You didn't say...
Jack I didn't want...
Robert: What?!
Jack: ...upset you.
Robert(sarcastically): Goood job.
Jack: I`m sorry.
Robert: Sure.
BEAT
Jack: I`d never forget.
Robert: What about Julia?
Jack: What about her?
Robert: Nevermind.
Jack: Your mom is...
Robert: ...was...
Jack: very special to me...
Robert: Yeah, me too.
LONG BEAT
Jack: I`m sorry.
Robert: Me too.

There are good nights, and there are not so good nights.

It's an empty feeling. A feeling of being hollow, in your arms and legs, in your head and in your heart.

It's a strange feeling, one that pushes fake laughs out your mouth, that come from no where and don't sound like you.

It's a sickening feeling. You do anything to be liked, to fill yourself up again but it does not last. Stop trying, stop pretending, start living, and it creeps back.

It's a hidden feeling. No one ever sees the emptiness, because then they would see you as just a face, just a fake. You no longer count. No longer can be liked or loved, the only things that will grow when there is nothing else.

It's scary to realize that you cannot control it. Frightening to think that it depends on, feeds on, others; that you are not independant, that you won't be independant. You can't be.

Unless you want to be Empty. Hollow. Fake. Sad.

But hey, this is a rare occurance, only a small part of what makes me, me.

What is the point of a built-in-bra?

Other then to confuse men when they do the laundry, that is. It's a waste of fabric. It's a waste of time! You always end up having to wear a bra underneath. Now, throw a little padding and some underwire in and your good to go, but have you ever come across not a built-in-bra with padding and underwire? Haha, not for less then 50 bucks. The built-in-bra is a tease, it says: "look at me, I'm two in one! I will save you time, and discomfort and lots of hassle!" but really it does the opposite. So out come the scissors and snip, snip, snip the built-in-bra is gone! And now, you have an annoying think piece of fabric at the top of your tank top that refuses to stop curling over the edge. So I vote we just stop putting them in, in the first place.
Who's with me?

Sh*t My Dad Says

#3: "If you want to have a conversation with god, meditate. Be alone and be okay with being alone. If you want to talk to the cackling devil, go find a room full of teen girls."

You make me so Mad

The worst kind of mad
The suffocating mad
Mad that you can't do anything with
To yell or to cry?
To break something maybe?

This mad, won't be expressed
This mad, just swells inside
Pushing at the edges
So that it makes you twitch
Tears well but never fall
Words form but go no where
Arms swing but never hit

You make me so mad.
You suffocate me
You attack my character
and call me a fool for thinking so
It's always my fault
You can do no wrong

No I will not carve pumpkins with you
No it was not selfish of me to put off my homework
No I don't tell you, and you want to know why?
BECAUSE the last time, I didn't stop hearing about it for
m o n t h s.

And I will lie if I have to
I will tell you I'm done
I will tell you I have no homework
and guess what?
I will finnish it anyways.
I don't want to fail.
I'm not stupid.

How dare I push you over the edge eh?!
How dare you try to push me around.
Fuck off.
I can hear you bitching to your precious girlfriend
who you hold in a golden light of parenting
I will never parent like her
I will never parent like you
I am not you
I will not make your mistakes
I am me
I will make my own mistakes
And I will live with them
If you're going to set me free,
You have to let me go.

Clue in.
I will do want I want
When I want.
Not because I am selfish.
Because I am a person
and I deserve to

I am not selfish.
I am no more selfish then you.
And it was you, yourself who said
"we're all a little selfish, we have to be"
because otherwise, we can't take care of ourselves?
Right?
Well you're doing a shit job
Practice what you fucking preach.

Sh*t My Dad Says

#2: "Men are stupid. Men are really really stupid. Keep that in mind, Holly. And remember, lesbianism is always an option."

Sh*t My Dad Says #1

This is a take off a Cosmo artical, `Sh*t my Boyfriend says`, which is a take off of a book/new tv show called...you guessed it, "Sh*t my Dad says"!
Some of them are wise. Some of them are weird. (paraphrased).

#1: "Guilt is dog crap. When you see dog crap on the sidewalk, do you stop and think Should I step in or over that dog crap? No! Of course you don't, you just step over it and don't look back. Stepping in that dog crap would just make things worse. And so will feeling guilty. It should not be guilt that brings us to do good things, and therefore guilt has no purpose and should not be stepped in."

"I is a Holly"

First, I am Holly,

and then I am a woman.

Then a daughter,

Then a student,

Then a friend.

I am, a Holly.

I am a feeler

and a talker.

A weeper

and a laugher.

I am a Holly.

I am a lover,

I am a hater.

I am confident,

I am scared.

I am honest,

I am a lier.

I am strong,

I am weak.

First, I am Holly,

and then I am a woman.

Then a daughter,

Then a student,

Then a friend.

Sometimes I forget.

Sometimes I am a friend,

before I am Holly.

Sometimes I am a daughter,

before I am a woman.

Sometimes,

I pretend not to hate,

I pretend I am always brave.

Sometimes,

I bite my tongure,

and quiet my laugh.

Sometimes,

I deny my emotions,

and my gut reactions.

But that is not who I am.

Unwritten

When she sits down to write, she pauses, taking a breath and trying to focus. Ideas start to form, creating images on the blank page in front of her. Depictions of storylines and charaters dance before her, but it's a game. As she reaches out to to grab one of the visions, it disappears. She watches in desperation as the others also start to slip and fade away. She grows frantic, stretcing out both hands, closing them around nothing but empty air. The ideas run away, like playful children, and her heart creeps into her throat as those fabulous images retract and return to their original state: straight blue lines that cross the blank piece of paper.

Her vision starts to blur as she stares at the same piece of paper, so she crumples it up and tosses it aside, only to find another blank sheet laying under it. She starts to feel as though she has hit the bottom of the sea and she is not strong enough to resurface. She battles with the urge to blame herself for the loss of those ideas, for the lack of inspiration. She puts her pen down and folds her arms across her chest, leaning back in her chair. The cold skin on her hands shocks her and reaches for her hot tea to warm them. Her fingers flush red as the blood returns to them and she pulls a pack of cigarettes out of her purse. Making a mental note to pick up more, she puts the last one to her lips, sparking a match with her free hands. She inhales, a comfortable feeling creeping over her. The smoke reaches out and relaxes her shoulders and posture, casting aside the tense atmosphere that ruled the room moments before. Her cell phone rings in the distance but she cannot be bothered to pay it any attention.

When the cigarette is reduced to nothing but ashes, she finds herself back where she started, staring at a blank piece of paper. The smoke is replaced by guilt as she closes the notebook, shutting out the possibility of ever seeing those dancing ideas again. She takes a sip of her tea but it has grown cold. She spits it out and pours the rest down the sink, watching it spiral down the drain until it is completely gone.

Silly Holly

Silly, silly Holly forgot to blog this week.
In my defense, it was a busy week.
I hope you haven't checked my blog yet >:P

FACEBOOK.

Maybe it was because I was brought up in the 90's, but as a young girl I dreamed of being a teen and spending night after night on the telephone with friends and boyfriends. All the movies and TV shows depicted teenagers bogging down the phone line, and parents stomping around loudly, complaining that the phone was never free.

What did my actual teen years bring me? Facebook. A website originally designed as a college dating service that quickly grew into a "social networking website". Facebook is so well known, you can find it in online dictionarys and my guess is that it will be making an appearance in Websters before the end of my life time. I finally "logged on" after a lot of nagging from a friend and I was thoroughly confused. I could not find my way around Facebook to save my life, so I dubbed it "stupid" and walked away. But, like an addiction, Facebook was calling me back within weeks. I have heard many a smoker say that they didn't like cigarettes the first time they inhaled but that their longing to like them kept smoking until it became something they enjoyed, something they needed. I feel the same way about Facebook.

Friend Request, confirm.

Status Update, like.

Picture Posted, comment.

Honesty Box, delete.

Inbox Message, reply.

Relationship Request, accept.

To be continued...

The Living Room of Many Arguments

Through the door, there is a large room with one dark red wall and three pale walls. The floor is covered in cat hair and the piano is out of tune. In contrast, there are three well cared for and loved guitars hanging on in front of the creamy fireplace. Above the mantle is a large mirror that reflects the view of the window across from it. There are two other mirrors in the room: one by the door, on your way out of the house and one as you leave the room and enter the hallway. In the corner there is an untouched cello that is precariously placed, as if hovering above the dark coffee table beneath it. On the wall adjacent to the cello, hangs a mandolin and a box full of percussion instruments sits below it. The room has been arranged around two large, new couches with large suffocating pillows and no love. They are new to the room and have yet to be accepted. A bamboo blind sits, rolled up, above the window but the curtain rod remains bare. There are many dusty picture frames around the room; on the mantle, the piano and hanging on the walls. They all hold smiling faces of the people who live there and their family members. A wide, unsuitable TV faces the couch demanding attention to anyone who enters the room. The cove ceilings create a warm feeling in the room, as does the colours of the walls and the dark wood of the furniture. But it's not the room it once was. Many of the same objects still reside there but not in the same way that they used to. It is no longer a room I am familiar with, no longer one I connect with.

I find this song inspiring.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0npq1MKg-MA

Seriously Mrs. Rioux,

I can't be sure if you saw the last post I left for you.
I'd love comments :)

Make Time.

Over and over again
I hear you say
"When oh when
Will I see you?"

Over and over again
You complain

You whine all the time
about missing him
yet I never see you try
to be with him

You refuse to go with him
You insist on going out
When he's home

So Make Time
Try a little harder
To share the weight
Of your relationship.

I`m sick of hearing about it.

It's not about the couches...

It's about you, making decsions without me.

It's not about the couches.

It's about thinking this isn't my home too.

It's not about the couches.

It's about change. You used to think this was my home too.

It's not about the couches.

It's about finally tearing apart the last thing that we all built together, as a family.

It's not about the couches.

It's about her liking them.

It's about losing my home to a woman I don't know. Losing my dad to a woman I don't know.

It's about throwing away what we built together, just us.

It's not about the couches.

Sometimes you just have to listen to your heart.

It's my birthday, so we wander down to the corner store, hand in hand, and buy yummy, pre-made sandwiches and chips before heading over to the park. Most of the grass is brown and crunchy so we snuggle up under a tree where the grass in greener and we can look out at the water. Unfortunately the grass is also damp, because though it is nearly the end of June it was not yet summer. We take off our jackets and lay them on the grass next to each other and then settle down on them. The wind is sharp and sends shivers down both of are backs. We're so cold, but trying so hard to have a good time.

After stuffing myself silly with a sandwich full of crunchy chips, I turn and look into those I that care so much about me. The eyes I care so much about.

And every time I look back, I wonder why I didn't just lay you down on the grass and kiss you until my lips went numb. Why I didn't just give in to my fear of being seen, being judged and let you know how I felt in that moment.

But I didn't. We walked home, hand in hand, and warmed our numb fingers.

And I don't even remember how we spent the rest of the day.

Magnolia

I wrote this as a preface to a story a long, long time ago; I just found it and it intrigued me. Beside it I had drawn a body with the name "Magnolia" tattooed on it. It was too long ago for me to remember anything else.

Identification

based on

nothing but

looks and names. 

Something that

makes us who

we are, though

the decision

isn't ours.

We're named by

our parents, by

those who love

us most, but

what if they

are wrong?

Names are given,

not taken or chosen;

no promises of
perfection.

Changes can be
made, in a
perfect world
but what if you

couldn't escape?

Names tattooed on

at birth.
Rights to choose
never imagined.
Never.

Breaking Point

Some combination of walking home in the heat, a computer that refuses to be fixed, horomones and my father's unwillingness to let go of yesterday's fight have brought me to my breaking point. Tears threaten to spill over the ridges under my eyes but I hold them back because I refuse to admit that these frustrating moments are worth my tears. It is now that I miss my lover and my friends and who my parents used to be. It is in this moment that I am my weakest. Not strong enough to move on, not strong enough to give in to emotion.

Even now, I feel frustration growing and swelling in my chest as my computer inches along, trying it's very hardest to open a new page for me. This is a drowning feeling, one that does not let up on it's own. In order to stop yourself from breaking you must step away from the point and repair it: a task that I do not find easy.

Hey, Mrs. Rioux

You can comment all you want :)

Perspectively

Sometimes, you have to look through somebody elses eyes; wear somebody elses shoes.

Sometimes you have to look as if you were very tall, and sometimes as if you were very small.

Take a look to your left. If you were actually sitting at a piano, those keys would be so small, so insignificant and yet here they dominate; their striking angles compelling you to look longer. And it's good to look at life from this perspective, because it gives you perspective. Shows you just what else life can do and how beautiful or powerful those small and insignificant things can be.
It is so easy to get completely caught up in life, to just let yourself get swept away in the ever-flowing rapids of time but easy isn't always best. When you let life live you, instead of living life, you miss things! You loose your perspective and everything starts to look small and insignificant and then you can't appreciate a thing. And if you can't appreciate it, what's the point in having it?

Rebirth

...that is, my blog is being reborn. Ya know, brought back to life, like frankenstein or zombies...I'm not doing some spiritual thing probably involving water to start my life again, don't worry; heck I haven't even started this life yet. I have been encouraged by my writing teacher (well encouraged as in, this is an assignment...) to blog once more...er weekly. Should be interesting. Unfortuneatley we needs "themes" and trying to think of one is causing me greif. I just want mine to be about me , I'm thinking of maybe making it specifcally about "my grad year" because that's a theme that also sort of just about me...right?

Anyways, something that interested me- the amout of drama I am experiencing within my first week of school. It's outrageous. Everybody is in everybody elses business and everybodies business is vair vair exagerated and as far as I'm concerned, people aren't really thinking clearly. No, scratch that. People are just walking around with their eyes squeezed tighly shut and their other senses are hypersensitive, including their feelings. Don't y'all get me wrong, I'm not saying that I'm miss perfect sitting around scoffing and critizing every Dick and Jane that walks by, I'm very much the opposite. In fact I'm almost certain that I am also guilty of amplifying these emotions and the gossip and drama. But that doesn't mean it doesn't annoy me. There are so many people that I want to shake and scream, "WAKE UP" in their faces, but I doubt anyone would really take that well...that is until later (years later) when they realize that they were heading for disaster and needed a good shaking.

That being said, I'm having a good day and I think we can move past this childish behaviour and all grow up a little in the process and I'll be sad if people get lost on the way-but hey! survival of the fittest right?

Survival of the fittest.

Inpiration

I need some. What to sing about? What to write about? I have been recently encouraged to write and I want to, but what do I write about? Maybe I should forgo these questions and just write, write, write, WRITE!

I'm going to read more, I need to read more. I feel like I'm getting dumber everyday that I'm not reading. I probably am. But when do I read? I'm always busy with friends, boyfriend, homework or SLEEPING. Gah.

xox

Well Hello There.

How are you? Long time, eh? Well...not really.
How inconvenient of you to stop by! Well actually, although your presence is always inconvenient, today it was convenient. Thanks for stopping by. Don't come again ;) <3

German.

Enough said ;)

For Katie's Sake

I'm blogging because Katie was told me I should. I haven't in a long time, but I don't know what to write about and I am probably just going to piss Katie off by making grammar and spelling mistakes. iN fcat i tinhk i wlil fcuk pu jsut to psis Ktiae off. I ma ginog to fcuk up ralely bad jsut to mses wtih her...atlugoh i hpoe it alultacy mkaes her lguah. :P And i rlaely hpoe she can raed it, ahahah. taht wulod be fnnuy if she culdno't raed it. In fcat i hvae tired to use all the crecort lterets and i hvae pobrably fceukd taht up as wlel. Hahah. Ktiae wlil hvae to let me konw.