Not Again

This time there's no excuse for what I did.
I've never been so bad.
I've never thought I could be this bad.
Things are such a mess.
Just a few days ago everything was fine.
Content.
Now, I can't even descibe it.
Just completely ruined.
But it might not be ruined.

I cried to a Taylor Swift song today.
"Fifteen".
I don't even listen to her.
But I was watching Much Music.
And her video came on.
"When you're fifteen and someone tells you that thewy love you, you're gonna believe it".
And I cried.
Maybe it wasn't the song.
Just how things are now.
Maybe I'm too gullable.
Maybe all this is still lies.
Maybe I'm too easy.
That's why I'm fun to play with.

This triangle has to become a line at some point.
And hopefully soon.
Because I can't take it.
I'm not the kind of person who likes to be bad.
I've always followed the rules.
I just can't trust myself.
And I can't trust anyone else.

It's a lose/lose situation.
And what I did is done.
All this better lead to happiness.

Christmas Food Doesn't Count

Totally unrelated to anything christmasy.
But last weekend I was playing Life with my dad.
And at the part where you have to get married, he asked me if I wanted a man or a woman.
That was the first time that I truely felt that he accepted my sexuality.
I mean he's always been okay with it.
I had a girlfriend.
And he was okay with talking about her.
But, to me, this was proof.

Anyways, merry christmas!
I got an amazing dress with monsters all over it.
I knew I was getting it, since I chose it.
But nonetheless, I'm freaking happy!
It fits beautifully.
(Except for around the bust.
Which is tight, but not to suffocating.
It works better if I don't wear a bra.)
I got other things too.
Like an Edward Scissorhands poster (my favourite movie).
And underwear, and studded bracelets.

Last night I went to my step-dad's cousin's house.
For a christmas eve party.
It was okay.
After I had a few drinks, that is.
I don't know his family very well.
But they kept complimenting my boobs.
Awkward.
I wrote "merry christmas" on my chest.
Well, I got my mom to do it.
Since it's hard to write on your own chest.
Mirrors are no help.

I'll write again soon.
MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS!

Is That Mapleleaf Bacon?

So, I don't know what I'm writing about today.
I just feel like writing.
k? =)
Fair enough.

Lines are blurry.
How do you know when you've crossed the line?
When does it stop being "voicing your wishes" and when does it start being "bossing people around"?
When does it stop being "respecting someone" and when does it start being "being someone's slave"?
So should he respect my wishes?
Or stand up for himself?
Maybe it depends on the situation.
Right?
There's so many othet blurry lines.
Too many to talk about.

I cut my hair really short.
I might look like a dyke.
I did it to try and stop pulling out my hair.
I didn't ask for trichotillomania.
It's something I have to live with.
Probably for the rest of my life.
I've had it since I was about eight.
If you don't know what it is, let me explain.
Basically you pull out your own hair uncontrollably.
Not just hair on your head.
Hair EVERYWHERE.
I've had bold spots on my head.
I've pulled out all my eyelashes twice.
Anyways, it's pretty horriible.
And basically incurable.

Life's not so bad, I guess.
I'm still pretty neutral.
I just feel ugly lately.
Crappy.
But I'll survive.

Pre-Winter

I woke up this morning, and it was beautiful outside.
I just had to take pictures before I went to school.
It was foggy, crispy, frosty, and cold.
As if a pre-winter fairy casted a spell.

As for everything else.
I kind of feel like I'm in limbo. In between. Nothingness. My happiness has died down. But not extinguished.
I'm trying my best to stay optimistic about things.
And trying to fix my problems.
It still seems easier not to care though.
That way you don't get hurt.
I still become a slave to it sometimes.
But less and less.

I Wasn't Being Sarcastic

Oh, eventfulness, eventfulness.
I guess it took something that should bring me down to actually set me free.
I should be hurt, broken, depressed.
I should feel betrayed, used.
But I'm happy.
I feel fresh.
Out of a rut.

Thanks for making me hate you.
Honestly, thank you.
That's just what it took for me to see clearly.
Now I know who you are.
Now I know I don't want anything to do with you.

And now I have more room for him.
I love you, Tyler.
And now I know that I can be happy with him.
We will be happy.
I don't need you like I thought I did.

I feel great.
Even though I have a low fever.
Emotionally, I feel good.
Not so much physically.

I need to stop missing school.
Last year, I missed a third of my classes.
I still managed to make honor roll.
But that's irrelevant.
I'm slipping away.
I'm weak, I'm dizzy.
I can't handle it.
I missed all last week.
I missed the whole week two weeks before.
I'm getting nowhere.

You Want Me Out Of Your Life

I should clean my room.
I should do my two projects that are due for tomorrow.
I feel sick.
I'm waiting for something to happen.
Something good.
Something different.
Inspiring, exciting.

Sometimes I wish I could be a better person.
And I know I can.
If I really try.
But I don't like trying.
I'ts easier to give up.

A few days ago, I consioucly decided to go with the flow.
What does that even mean?
I do what other people tell me to do?
I do whatever comes to mind first?
Do nothing?
I'm not sure.
We'll see what happens.
Or maybe that's what "go with the flow" means.
Does the fact that I decided that make me lazy?

I don't want to go to school.
I don't want to do anything really.
Except for maybe see my friends.
And Tyler.
And eat maybe.
I need inspiration.
Badly.
I need some sort of motivation.
Some sort of revelation.
Something.

Green Hair Today, No Hair In The Picture

So I got my school pictures back today.
Guess what?
I have no hair!
See, my hair was green in the pictures.
And there was a green screen in the background.
So that they can add a background image such as books or a strange blue glow.
They tell us not to wear green.
But this obviously didn't occur to me as I was dying my hair.
So when people look back at the yearbook they will no longer see me as "the girl with cool hair".
This is what people usually recognize me as.
Since it changes so much.
But they will look at my picture and say "There's the girl with no hair".
Fuck.