Ouch.

I think it might quite possibly be the hardest thing in the world, to sit there and try to make someone else happy. Like a sincere, just bliss and utter happiness,
when inside it's tearing you to shreds.

Fading

Slowly,
slowly I can feel you slipping away.
You're becoming harder to hold onto,
and I'm not sure how much longer you'll be here,
how much longer I can keep you hanging.
Because with each passing day,
you're beginning to slip farther out of my grasp.
And sometime down the road,
I'm wondering if you're gonna just let go.

Why?

Today in Geography, we had a sub, which meant we would spend the hour watching a movie. But I would have never expected anything like the video that I found myself watching..
Chernobyl. In April of 1986 a nuclear powerplant in the Ukraine experienced an explosion, causing only 3% of their radioactive products to get released into the air.
That's all it took.
People are still suffering. More and more newborn babies are being put up for adoption everyday in the Ukraine because their brains are mere tumors outside of their heads, because they have cancer that their parents already can't pay to get treatment for, because their bodies are too fragile for any potential use. More and more toddlers are being left on the streets everyday because they're 4 years old with the body of a 4 month old, because they're 6 years old but can't comprehend enough to go to school, because their parents can't stand to look at their children any longer, at what they created.
So what happens to these kids?
They get left in orphages, asylums, hospitals. Like an outcast. They're an outcast for having been born. For having the right to live. The right to live a life like anyone else.
But what kind of a life is it? When you're stuck in a room your whole life. When your limbs get cut off because they simply won't do anything. When you get looked at strangely, for just trying to be like everyone else.
Because in their eyes.. that's all you are.
Just some outcast, with little to give to society.
So with each and every passing day, their tumor gets bigger, or their defect becomes more difficult to live with..
And then they begin to wonder, why am I here?

A full mind

It's kinda silly to see all the things one can do with all of their mind on one thing.
No, wait, scratch that.
With even just half of their mind occupied on one thing.

EX:
Every night I arrived home from school, exhausted from making my brain work. So I spent all of my home time doing anything and everything possible not to work that little pink fleshy thing of mine. Anywhere from the boobtube, the computer, down to creating pictures from the stucco in the ceiling.
Well, life was just dandy that way, until grades came in. Aww... fuck.
So now, everyday. I get home, do homework for a few hours, then spend the rest of the night half in a daze, and half just trying to get done as many late assignments as possible.. just so I can say I did 'em.

Hey. It works.

Oxymoron?

Apparently
I'm irrational
with a good head on my shoulders.

Hm...

How many Grammys?

Slumdog Millionaire is absolutely incredible.
It's one of those story lines where you're sucked in all the way
til
the
end.
It gives you a sense of hope that anything can happen.
That you can go from rags to riches,
or if you look hard enough that you can find that one person who you lost so long ago.
And sure, maybe you'll say it's crazy to wish or believe in that.

So then I must be the craziest person alive.




When looking back.. and reading this..
I think this is quite possibly the stupidest blog I could ever post.
Most definately.

Twizzler

Twizzlers are tricky little suckers.
Once you've had one.. you can't stop.
You just keep eating
and eating
and eating
until you look down
and they're all gone.

I hate what I do.. what I do every fucking time.
I get mad.. and disappointed.. and then I fuck it up.
I make someone else feel like crap in hopes of making myself feel better.
Why?
Because I'm scared..
I'm scared of letting you in.
And I figure that maybe if I was an ass to you.. you'd never have the chance to be an ass to me.
But it seems like I end up getting hurt just as much as you do..
And that's not what I want for either of us.

Hello.Goodbye.

I've always wondered about the existence of man, the typical questions:
What's my purpose?
Why am I still here?
What's going to happen after living?
Is there a wrong and a right way to live?
How did I get here?
When will I leave?
Why are we here?

And as much as I'd like to say that out of the zillions of theories that I've come up with, that I think I've on the verge of a breakthrough;
No one likes a liar.

Titanic

Sometimes things go bad.
So bad to a point where it seems almost like death.
Like your on the boat and it just keeps filling with water
And the boat's sinking
And the pressure of the water is filling up the boat
Filling up your lungs
Until there's nowhere else to go,
So you simply
jump.

Central

There's something about my school at night that makes me giddy. But I'm not quite sure what it is.
I do know though, that I love it after hours. After all the loiterers, and the detention kids, and the teachers who I attempt to avoid, after they all leave, and it's quiet.
Complete. Silence.
Like I can walk down the hall and the only thing I hear is the echo of my footsteps bouncing off the old wooden walls. Or when I can run all the way up to the 4th floor, just to shout down the staircase. And laying in the middle of the floor, without the worry of being told to get the hell up.
Maybe school ain't so bad..

Fear

I'm scared of so many things it's ridiculous to even think of.

I fear imperfection. Of being criticized and picked apart. Like.. I'm being found out. That someone can find a vulnerable spot in my shield.
I fear rejection. Maybe it's because it's a bit similar to imperfection. If I was perfect, there would be no need to be rejected, right?
I fear the future. Growing up, and having to take care of myself. And later on down the road.. not just myself, but others. I'm not sure if I'm up for it.
I fear committment. Having to stay grounded with something or someone for a long period of time. Losing excitment in my life that had once existed, because I have to stay attached to something..
I fear being forgotten. I don't want people to mention my name.. and those who were once closest to me to have to ask who that is. To leave a mark on the world, that's a sure fire way to be remembered.
And don't even get me started on actual things, like, tangible things. Bugs, spiders, heights (which no, aren't tangible, but still.. you get it.)
But I think more than anything.. I fear death. Dying. Decaying. Under the ground. Ashes in a yern. What comes after death? Do we all go to heaven? Is there really a feeling of dying, or are you simply reborn, reincarnated? I think if I had three wishes.. I'd use at least one so that I could die for a day, only for a day, just to see what it's like on the other side.

Mistake

Sometimes the sketchiest of places can lead you to the best of results.
If I can say that's been proven with places.. why can't it be true with people? I'm not saying everyone should go and look for the strangest, sketchiest, or creepiest person they can find, and befriend them in hopes of something good coming from it. But take a leap of faith ocassionally, what you don't know might surprise you.

The game

I love the game.

I love the game more than tanning, more than string cheese, more than pudding, more than you, more than me, more than anything.

Because of the lights; the lights that beam on my face when the sun goes down and I can look up, and around and I can feel the heat of those massive lights, telling me that it's game on.

Because of the atmosphere; the atmosphere that keeps me screaming, and shouting, and spouting out ridiculous songs that I'm going to remember for the rest of my life, reminding me why I'm there.

Because of the dirt; the dirt and the way it feels when I have to slide to catch that insane hit, or the way it feels in my hands when I'm forced to step on that mound and face the batter, crumbling between my fingers, letting me know I belong.

Because of the pressure; the pressure that I put on myself, that I control, that I feel when I see a ball coming straight for me, and there's no one else around, when I get up to bat and my hands are sweating in my gloves, anxious and nervous for that perfect hit, beckoning me in every time.

Because of the perfection; the perfection that comes when the lights and the atmosphere and the dirt and the pressure are all aligned together just right, and I get goosbumps up my arms because I'm in the zone, and it's no longer 'the game';
It's my game.

Meaning...?

"The only thing to fear, is fear itself."-FDR

What was Roosevelt thinking when he said this!? I'll tell you. He wasn't, because he had some nimrod write the dang speech for him, so whatever that nimrod was thinking is beyong me. Maybe he thought that since the whole nation was under such duress, he'd throw something out there that would give everyone hope, that WE were making it all up, and that there's nothing to fear.

That's bullshit if I've ever heard the word.

Let's say you're in a building, on the 28th floor, and it catches on fire, and is slowly burning. If you're smart, you're scared for your life, right? But apparently the only thing to fear is fear itself, so just stop being fearful. Because apparently, if you're not scared, there won't be anything to fear. So if you're not scared anymore, what? The building's going to magically go out, the sun will shine, and you can go back to work.

Give me a break.

-ing. un-. ir-.

I was scolded for not writing enough. Eat shit.

It's dreadful seeing him walk away from you, mascara streaming down your wet, tear filled face, with his arm around her waist, the grimace on her face; destroying, unerasable, irresistible.
It's dreadful having everything slip away, fading so fast, what was part of your past, but it just wouldn't last; wanting, unbelievable, irrational.
It’s dreadful knowing that every second that goes by, you feel like you're going to die, and you can't help but cry, as he says goodbye; ending, unstoppable, irreplaceable.

People

Sometimes one person can make or break your day.

Example: "OMG! Becky! What the HELL are you wearing!?"

That amazing friend, just ruined Becky's day. A bit of advice Becky, drop that friend like I'm pretty sure you dropped whatever it was you were wearing.

Example: "DAYMMM Becky! That's one fine ass skirt you got on."

Slightly strange? Maybe. But day making? Yes. That provacative statement probably made Becky blush, and hold her head up just a little bit higher that day.

I don't know about anyone else... but I've got one person who I can always count on to make my day, whether it's a 'you look too hot for your shirt' or just a simple smile.

Numero Uno

It begins right here. I'm not quite sure how long it'll last.. but for right now it feels good.
You got me started with this. You'll read it eventually, and you'll know, but for right now, this is just me. Not worrying about who reads this or anything.. maybe no one ever will.