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| if i don't know you, but i want to, i'm really awkward. this makes for awkward meetings when you are also awkward... sorry. once you get to know me, the awkwardness fades, generally, and instead becomes endearing... right? the power of suggestion does wonders... blush blush blush. reality... catch up to my imagination. stay tuned to what will hopefully... turn into something worth reporting... | | |
| well, i made the cut. despite whatever not talking battle we're in, that has to count for something. i fear whatever that cutback means... please, please, please. i know we have a tendency to repeat our history, but... really? i'm sure i could make a whole list of reasons why we would be a bad idea (all of them very make-or-break reasons, i like an artist that you don't, you think i'm too bright...)... but then i feel what's in my heart, and i wonder who could ever give a shit about some stupid list, when they feel what they feel... actions speak louder than words. tell me you don't love me until forever. every day. you can say it until you're blue in the face, but when you say it while pulling me into you... no wonder i don't believe you. so much happens between now and then... and yet, you make me laugh until i cry. this is a problem. and by a problem, i mean it's lovely. i hope your heart still makes mine jump like this then... so, so torn about what comes next. still need to practice that guitar... lee blessing, i find new things in your writing every time i read it. delightful and heartbreakingly beautiful, with deeper depths and truer truths, multiple meanings and real relationships... thank you. ------------------- i'm too bright. i wear too many colors. i like to dance and shake my ass. i want you to think i'm pretty. i like people who are bright and bubbly. i am nice to everyone. my heart is so open. i'm too clean. i'm too judgemental. i'm too self-conscious. i'm too needy. i believe in exclusivity. i'm a mess. i'm moody. i hate your movie tastes. i don't fall so easily into bed. i don't always think before i speak. i smack my gum. i want what's best for me, for you, for everyone. i think before i speak sometimes. i hear what you say. i want to cuddle. i want to know you, everything about you. you don't know why you don't love me. are any of the above valid enough reasons? i know they all bug you. maybe you can come up with some combination of them to tell me. over and over and over. ... | | |
| i cut my hair. to shoulder length. i think i like it. i love fall. the older i get, the more i hate winter. the snow has turned from being a fun reason to get to stay home from school, into a scary, cold, pain-in-the-ass. i hate driving in it, i hate walking in it, i hate the anxiety i feel when i see it. argh. i make myself impossible to love. i've pushed away some of the best people and i don't know how to make up for that. i try to draw in others that i shouldn't to compensate. as if that were possible. trying not to be the terrible person that you think i am. trying to determine if it's the pot calling the kettle. every single thing you said to me you do too. where do you think i got it? it drives me crazy to be so much like you. you can be like you and the only person it hurts or bothers is me. i can be like you and it hurts and bothers everyone, but maybe ultimately, in the end, me most of all. how to change what you've been taught all your life? these are the thoughts that have kept me up all night... | | |
| happy i don't have to answer to you. has to be awake in 5 hours for an appt with the oral surgeon. would like to be given an actual chance instead of getting thrown under bus... after bus... baby i love you
that's why i'm leaving
there's no talking to you
and there's no pleasing you
and i care enough
that i'm mad got told by a 17-yr-old yesterday that i look 18 or 19. the list of people who think i look like a teenager grows... "you can't change the past, but you can change the way you view it." i think i need to see 500 days of summer again. you know, in all my downtime. my little brother is 22 today. i'm still trying to accept that i'm no longer 22... crazy. some days i don't care. i really don't. and others, i really just want you to suffer as badly as i do. my ipod just went from paramore to something corporate to styx to jack's mannequin to kelly clarkson... holy oldschool. call me in five years... until then... keep being my friend? downsize, downsize, downsize. i've started repeating things so they appear three times... why, i know not. need to start planning a year from now... now. this is a story about... not you. too cryptic? you can spend minutes, hours, days, weeks, or even months over-analyzing a situation; trying to put the pieces together, justifying what could've, would've, should've happened... or you can just leave the pieces on the floor and move the fuck on. -tupac | | |
| writing. a form of expression my emotions. guitar... could be a way to express my emotions, should i ever learn how to play it. running... a task i hate, but a good way to get out emotional energy when i seem to have no other outlet. i miss dancing. i miss movement. i miss the stream of emotions and expression i can go through with it. i miss the structure, i miss the freestyle, i miss the ability to cut loose and not feel pressured for it. gah. i actually understand what people mean when they say they don't trust the media. firsthand experience, along with a general mistrust. it's wrong. you're the person i most look forward to seeing. i always know where you are, even in a room full of people. the way you looked at me the other night. we had a whole conversation, fifteen feet apart, with a dozen people around, without saying a single word. eyes, just the eyes. play for me, sing for me. i care if you think i look pretty, if you laugh at my jokes, if i do something clumsy in front of you.of course you share a birthday with span, of course i can't talk to you or anyone else about this. i wonder if i'm completely insane, losing my marbles in wherever it is that i think i am. if i'm there alone. teen angst doesn't go away when you stop being a teen. it fades when you stop being around people your own age, but the smallest of opportunities brings it out uncontrollably. i miss my parents. i miss getting tucked in at night. i miss making them laugh. sometimes they're so formal with me, so distanced. i don't want to be a stranger to them. like i'm becoming... i think i'm in need of some serious photography time... tomorrow:
house laundry
personal laundry
coffeeee
reading
photography- outdoors?
gym
shower
rehearsal writing and guitar need to work themselves into my day-to-days as well... maybe need to go figure out about some yoga as well... tap into that outlet! joan of arcadia... quality. gives me a lot to think about. i'm a student of life? i keep searching, trying to find deeper meaning in everyone else's words, their findings, their thoughts and ideas, so certain that they've seen something i haven't, something i haven't experienced yet, or have overlooked or missed entirely. that's not so unprobable... call the parents. call the brother. call the bff. call the ones who matter. and they all do, so very, very much. <3 | | |
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