Random, journal-ish things.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

I Failed

Alright, so I havn't written for two days.
Promise broken.
Oh well, I knew it would happen.
Okay new promise:
I write at least three times a week.
Yes, deal.
*Shakes own hand*

So, like three days of catching up to do.
Yes, lots has happend.
Hm, let's see..
Thursday I went to school for the first time in a day and a half.
It was alright.
I was stressed about all I had missed.
But I didn't miss that much.
Fast forward.
After school.
I go to the mall with some friends.
Which is weird for me.
Cause I almost never go to the mall.
Our crappy cornwall mall.
And I don't hangout with friends that often.
And there were FOUR.
Anyways, we're at the mall.
And I feel sick and ugly.
So, naturally, I'm just in a crappy mood.
And I miss Tyler.
Then, guess who's there when I get back home?
But the weird thing is, that didn't cheer me up.
I was more sad and confused.
I hate surprises.
1. I didn't understand why his mom gave in and let him come over.
2. If I had known he was coming over before, it would have saved alot of sadness.
3. I didn't know he was gonna be there, so I hadn't shaved in a few days, I had just washed my face and taken off all my makeup, and my hair was ugly and flat and up in a headband.
I like being the prettiest I can be when he first sees me.
I mean, it's not like he hasn't seen me at my worst.
But, I just like when his eyes light up when he sees me.
As if his visual memory of me was reassured.
But whatever, I got over it.
Other than that, most of the evening went pretty suckishly (can I still be considered smart after using that word?).
Conflict, conflict, conflict.
Surprisingly, it wasn't about me this time!
Nonetheless, somehow it managed to get the best of me.
Therefore, most of the evening was spent away from Tyler.
He lay on my bed sulking, half-asleep.
As I took the oppurtunity to do my homework.
But it ended, and all is forgiven.
Just like every other time.

Which leads to Friday.
Regular day.
We had the "Terry Fox Run".
Which I'm completely sick of.
Thanks to my elementary school principal.
He was obsessed with the man.
And I'm pretty sure I saw Terry Fox tattooed of his ankle.
I told my mom that he probably thinks of Terry Fox as he bangs his wife.
Anyways, after school I packed to go to my dad's for the weekend.
Yet another surprised occured.
Tyler's mom suggested he come for the ride to my dad's.
The ride's usually about an hour and a half long.
Me and Tyler.
All my fault.
Like always.
Except this is the biggest one we had in a while.
It was mainly fueled by jealousy.
Mine of course.
It made me want to die.
Out of self-hate.
Because it made me not want to be with him.
'Cause I can't stand hurting him.
Over and over again.
As the fight came to an end.
It made me realize a few things about myself.
The reason why I hurt him and no one else.
It's like a superhero movie.
You know how Spiderman didn't want to be with Mary-Jane because he knew that would be the villain's first target.
He know's the bad guy wants to hurt him and he can only do so by hurting the ones he loves.
Well, my emotions are the villain.
They want to hurt me.
I want to hurt myself.
So I hurt the ones I love (Tyler).
Which, obviously, brings me pain.
Horrible pain.
And I know it'll never change.
And so does he.
But he still wants to keep me.

Now for today.
The one year anniversary of my grandfather's death.
So my whole dad's side of the family got together and picked apples.
(Something we used to do with my Grandpa Nick).
It was kind of weird.
Being in a place that I only vaguely remember.
I wish I was swarmed with memories of him.
Memories of that place.
But I wasn't.
Is that wrong?
I ate way too many apples.
But I guess it was kind of fun.
And we went to the graveyard.
I love it there.
But I don't get an eerie feeling.
I kind of wanted to though.

I'm so excited.
The leaves changing color.
The cool breeze.
I adore it.
I can't wait for Halloween.
I think I might be a vampire french maid.
But we might be going to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show.
That is, if they're showing it on Halloween night.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Rhymes With Toga

Weird thing happend today.
I went to a YOGA class.
I thought I hated yoga.
But I guess I don't.
Maybe I should try new things more often.
I'm still sick.
And the yoga was surprisingly relaxing.

So my boyfriend, Tyler.
He drove his parents car.
And, guess what?
Yeah, he kinda smashed it.
So it sucks for him 'cause he has to pay like $1,300.
And it sucks for me 'cause his parents won't let him see me for the rest of the week. -_-
He's seventeen.
I don't think they should be allowed to make rules like that.
His mom's crazy.
But that's a long story.
Anyways, when he told me he couldn't see me I freaked out.
Like usual.
I hate myseft for it.
I told myself I would stop.
I told myself "I just won't care anymore".
And I was going to go through with it.
But then I told him that and he got really upset.
Keep in mind, everything I say is an understatement.
I guess "not caring" isn't an option.
It probably wouldn't have worker for long anyways.
So here I am.
Being psycho-depressive girlfriend.
Putting him through hell.
Why he's still with me, I do not know.
I mean, I know he loves me.
I guess that's why.
But he deserves some sort of reward for putting up with me for so long.
It's been almost ten months.
And we have forever to go.
I hope he can survive it.
Anyways, eventually I calmed down about the not seeing him thing.
I think it was after the yoga class.


I'm gonna make it a point to try and write everyday.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009


Okay, so here's the deal.
You know the last entry I wrote was explaining how I was at a loss for words.
Well, I guess now's the time it all comes pouring out.
I was laying it bed, and i was swormed with all these topics.
I was having realizations.
And having just finished writing my previous post, I was dying to share all my thoughts.
I kept telling myself it could wait til tomorrow.
Telling myself I had to sleep.
But I just couldn't.
I went to go turn on the family computer located right down the hall from everyone's room.
And everyone is in their rooms.
I'll surely wake them with my loud, obnoxious typing.
I'll just try to type as lightly as possible.

So here's the thing, I've been sick for a day and a half from school.
Over msn, I asked my friend what I missed today.
She told me that in careers they did one of those "voted most likely to.." things.
The class voted me "most likely to become an author".
This didn't surprise me.
I'd love to be an author one day.
Poetry is my passion.
I'm at the top of my english class.
My teacher loves me.
She shows my last years work as examples to the new class.
So I guess being an author would be ideal.
And I'd love to write a novel.
But I wouldn't start at this age.
I wish I could.
Except for I'm embarrassed.
And it's kind of hard for a fifteen-year-old to write a novel and be taken seriously.
If it's about the kind of stuff I want to write about.
Sex, depression, insanity.
Who would want to read that?
No one.
If I heard that a fifteen-year old kid wrote about that stuff, I sure as hell wouldn't read it.
Take Ellen Hopkins books for example.
Crank, Burned, Impulse, Glass, Identical, Tricks.
If you havn't read them, they're all about hardships that young people go through.
Crank and Glass are about drugs.
Identical is about mental disorder.
Tricks is about prostitution.
I'd love to write books like that.
These books inspire me.
But if I heard that they were written by a teenager I probably wouldn't have read them in the first place.
Maybe isn't my point.
I just mean that if I wrote stuff like that I'd be embarrassed.
But earlier today, I got my Tarot Cards read.
And I got "The Devil" card in the slot that represents the near future.
And it said that I will soon have to face my inner self and accept my dark side.
Let myself be natural.
Let my creative self out.
Accpet everything I don't like about myself.
So maybe it's a sign that I should infact write a novel, regardless.
Maybe I just won't show it to anyone.

Speaking of dark side, I had another realization.
I've always thought of myself as a dark person.
I love vampires.
Blood, monsters, ghosts, murders.
And fear.
Yet I'm afraid of all these things.
I can't even watch Saw movies.
I'm afraid of EVERYTHING.
To the point where people make fun of me for it.
The strange thing is, fear is one of my favourite things.
But I don't want to face it.
I avoid encountering fear at all costs.
But I like to admire it from afar.
But I already knew all this.
My realization was that, considering myself a dark person, I havn't had many dark thoughts lately.
For a second, I had a vision of torture.
But I stopped myself.
Because it scared me.
I mean I write about that kind of stuff all the time in my poetry.
I use morbid things to express myself.
But I guess I havn't really thought much into it.
I don't receive many disturbing images.
I used to.
But it seems I don't anymore.
I think back to my Tarot Card reading.
Does that mean I'll start seeing them again?
Who knows.

Let Me Speak!

Well, happy 11:30 pm on a school night!
I know I havn't been writing alot.
I guess that's why I'm writing now.
Anyways, when I created this blog, I imagined I'd have so much to say that everything would come pouring out.
But, I guess it's not that easy.
I'm usually very opinionated and interesting.
Well, for the most part anyways.
But lately I feel wordless.
I mean, I can still write poetry.
I guess that's just how I tought myself to express my thoughts and feelings.
But when it comes to journaling, I've never been able to keep a steady one.
I've tried many times to start one.
I'd go to the store, buy a pretty new "diary" decorated with eye-catching images like flowers and kittens.
(Keep in mind, I was about seven.)
I'd go home and start writing stright away.
Resulting in a paragraph of poorly spelled words in childish trying-too-hard handwriting.
I would simply write out the events of the day.
And promise myself to do the same every night.
And I would follow through.
For about four days.
And it's true.
I moved recently, and I've been unpacking.
Coming across many of these stupid "journals".
I wrote them as if they were for my mother to read.
So formal, and lack of opinion and creativity.
I would start with the date written in ugly cursif writing.
Then go on to say "Dear Diary", as if I was adressing an acquaintance, someone I had to impress.
And I would end with some sort of closing.
Like "Goodbye".
So, it seems this is my attempt to start a real journal.
So far it has failed.
But we'll see what happens.

Monday, September 7, 2009

I Guess I'm Just A Lucky Fucker

Hello everyone, see that picture? That's me at Prehistoric World yesterday. It's this awesome place where there's sculptures of dinosaurs the actual size that they were before they were extinct!

Anyways, I was there yesterday with my family and my boyfriend, and - guess what - a bird shit on me! I have been shit on my a bird three times in my life! People say it's lucky, is that true? I surely hope so!

So yeah, this is my blog where I write my journal-worthy ponderings. Hope I'm interesting enough!