Maybe I am Afraid

I lied.
I am afraid of you.
I'm terribly, horribly afraid of you.

You don't have to look at me
(you can't look at me)

and you just see right through me.
You see through me and under me and over me and inside me.

"Hello ______. Dance with me in the snow while your eyes glisten like melting ice... and the frost behind them thaws"

You ask me why I'm so afraid of you

and i reply with tentatively that cannot be read on text that i am not afraid of you.

In truth, I don't know completely. It's the things you say.
How you get it bang on everytime.
How you know. How you just know.

"You... need love. I think it's why youre so...hurt...cold. You need something to compliment the artist that you are. Like I said. Romance, love...expression."

Kid. We both know I'm not allowed to have them in you.
We both know very well.

"Don't try to be cold and closed off. I know thats not you at all. You're afraid of this and you don't want me to know it. Let me help you."

I can protest it all I want, but I am.
I had a dream the other night, i was in your arms. You were speaking, and laughing, and when I looked up at you, you weren't you.
You were him.
And I woke up and cried.
I didn't answer your call, for that and other reasons.

I don't want that again.
And I don't understand this. I don't know why this is happening.

"Because i'm a bi polar kid whos in a manic phase who is attracted to a bi polar kid who doesn't know what she wants."

Oh god.

Bar Song

There's a fire in your eyes,
and I hope you let it burn.

Why I haven't been blogging much:

Those of you who remember my new year promises,
recall the 'finish a novel one'?
I'm working on it.
i know that I'm 16, I'm young, I'm inexperienced,
but what better reasons to write one?
this is how I'll learn.

my main character, much to my dismay, is named George.
forgive me, i didn't want that name. he just told me so. i tried changing it, but changing the name changed him. i fought this battle for many days, with Ee by my side in spirit and cell phone, trying to coax a new name out of him.
End result was frustration on my part, and victory in his.

George, being my first important main character, my first character I am actually paying attention to, is consuming my time. You may find me slightly obsessed with him. I have a book dedicated to his story. A sketch pad to what he looks like, why he looks like that. another book for questions I have, and the few answers i get.
"would he be different if his job was any different?" yes of course he would be, but how..?
"does he like houseplants?"
"do his kids look like him? if not, does that bother him at all?"
"he bowls. why?"
"does he smoke? did he ever? why is he an alcoholic?"

etc.
You can be certain to hear from me and George on a fairly regular basis. For now, I'll give you a little piece of what I've written.


Bar Song.

-Having spent the time it took him to get from his office to here, with his head firmly down, and his brain occupied with his phone call, he neglected to look to see if the door he has opening and thusly walked into, was indeed the correct one.
Apparently, it was not.
"Don, I'm going to have to call you back"
"Sure George, don't forget Monday."
Without bothering to acknowledge the reminder, George snapped his phone shut and looked around.
The lights were not so harsh on his eyes, now that the shock from the grey day outside sudden;y being replaced was gone.
First was the realization of where he wasn't.
Then, the shock of where he had ended up.

This was not Jack's bar, his usual Tuesday haunt for after work pre-happy hour drinks.
This wasn't any bar.
There wasn't any alcohol here at all.

This was a flower shop.
Somehow, in his preoccupied state, his feet and lead him to her; to the last place he felt capable of being.

Week;Fired;Highlights;Ambitious;Ee

Week at a glance:
Tuesday. Easy day. Going to be very cold, so it's possible few people will be at school. Have to finish my math, &my lit responce. newspaper meeting.

Wed. Short day. Not much going on. After school, mall with E and H. Then they go home but i go to work.

Thursday? Do I work? Do I not? Does life hate me?

Friday? If I dont work thursday, i work here. If I don't work here, then ehch and ee are gonna come over (maybe i should inform them)

Saturday. Work the afternoon/evening shift. Afterwards I believe the imc kiddies are getting together somewhere fun to do something fun.

Sunday. Morning devoted to cleaning and reading. Afternoon to homework, eveing to coffee with Paul-ee-o.

Not a bad week if you ask me.

Let go?
I might be without a job soon...

PINK!
I have steaked my hair red. Well, it was supposed to be red. It's kinda red/pink. Oppsie :D
Oh well. i like it. why not huh?
"I'm gonna do what I want to, and I wanna dye my hair blue"
Just found out they're premanent.
ohhhh dear....
xD
oppsie.. again.

This year I had decided to take up the guitar again
and to try to learn piano.
to finish a novel (good or bad)
and to drink more water.
I feel ambitious, but also unproductive. I have taken no steps towards any of those yet. Well, perhaps the first one.

Ee leaves in 13 days.
I don't think I can take it.

Life is Art

What will be your muse today?
What will be your paper, your easel?
Who is your paint, who is your pencil?
Who, for heaven sakes, holds your hand to canvas and lets it go?
Who is your canvas?

What will you do with it today?

Nerd Time

I'll admit it.
I'm a nerd.
An english nerd.
And, hell, I'm proud of it.
I have pride in the fact that I am top of my english/history class. I am proud I am beating the best students I know, (sorry kiddos:]) and I love the work, and the fact that Mr.L has so much faith in what i do.
I love getting work back from a teacher who is a tough marker with 96% percents. I love reading his comments and critisisms on my work, everything from "great opening, nice use of repatition" to, "why can't you understand comma splices?!, this is awkward and poorly done"
because they help me grow and learn.

On the flip side,
chem is killing me.
I just can't understand it. All those formula's and rules and definitions and how carbon makes up everything organic and some inorganic and how n=M*V and molarity and molality and this and that and presipitation isnt rain. plasma is the most common substance in the universe. its just overwhelming. i'm so bad at it, it's unreal. i can't do those calculations and the difference between an atom and molecule escaped me until very recently. Learning about how scuba divers get the bends is frustrating because it seems so simple but i cant hold onto it.
can't win 'em all now can i? Chem is so cool, learning why everything is the way it is. it's like holding the key to the universe. i just keep dropping it and misplacing it and just can't seem to get it to work. Is my lock faulty, or my key I wonder...?

Is there something about yourself or you do that make you feel great? Something that make you feel slightly smug? Something you feel you're great at?
Is there something you're the best at?
Is there something you're the worst at?

What do you love about each?

You're Lame and Decrepit

Tonight you're here
but will you love me tomorrow?


Reading old notebooks is interesting.
it's like photographs of me.
and, a pictures worth a thousand words they say.


i wish i was a bird
so i could fly, of course
and shake hands with
each star.
Learn their names
and exchange
"How'd you do" 's

i wish i was an Angel sometimes.
Slipping by unseen
so i could
watch over you
Sing you sweet lullabies,
and keep you
bright and safe.



There are five empty chairs at the table.
five.
five empty places around me.
six i count the one my bag is on.
six.
i fill those in my mind
with the people i love best.
one. ee
two. maj three. steve
four. dust five. zed
six. six.
six is - was - bird, who,
is better off gone. better off the chair
for coats and bags.
in my mind my five full chairs
(six with bags, seven with me!)
in my mind my five full
chairs smile at me.
And I smile back.

Old stuff

innocence is the fault of youth

-

Saw my defining moment
saw it pass me by
didn't move a muscle
just stood and waved
goodbye

-

fucking mirror
who's laughing now?
huh?
you can't break me
I broke you.
Who's laughing
now.

-

if words could kill
you'd be dead a hundred times over
for all the times i've written
for all the times each word cut into me,
for every carefully crafted phrase.
i look at the past
at my writings
and see...
horror.
every word i wrote pains me now,
so much unhappiness on one little page
after one little page, after one little page.
what had me that way?
somehow i can only faintly recall

-

But this is a song over done
maybe one day we'll find the time to write
our own little songs.
Maybe one day we'll all know how.
'Cause sweetie can sing, but can't write his own.
He sings what he doesn't believe, doesn't understand.
I hear his voice and hear a lie.
A beautiful lie. A believable lie.
Write and singing, my own rough tunes.
They may be bad but at least they're true.
A love song, a hate song, a nonesense, a collage.
Little bird can borrow all my songs.
Take them and twist them and claim them.
Writing more is easiest.
It's me on a Greyhound. It's the subtle freak out.
It was the night we spent in the long grass.
The test that was left empty, & the words you never said to me.
Each truth will find it's time to finish
when the ink stains jump onto my fingers again.
When the ache of his empty place becomes too much

-

Yes i had said we needed a break.
i stand by it.
it wasnt an attack.
i cant feel devoted.
i never said i hate you.
i dont need you, and i need that.
not feeling what we used to pulls my mouth down
but that's not enough.
no more fights,
no more tears.
this is the end of it,
until we both think it's worth it.

-

A new pen.
Let it go.
Maybe this time.
Maybe in this one
I'll find the write words,
pen the perfect rhymes,
strike the right chords.
Maybe this time,
maybe this time i'll get it right.
Maybe this pen'll be the one
that I can write magic with

-

Fools rush in
where angels fear to tread

Fools rush in
where wise men never go.
But wise men never fall in love
so how are they to know?

-

Sometimes
frustration makes me scream
With you,
I never know which way's left.
So tell me to fix my hair.
I'll gurdgingly oblige.
I avoid conflict.
Isn't that a shame?

Insert Curse Words Here

Right, here I go.
Ready for the explosion? Cover your ears ladies and gents.

YOU

where the hell do you get off doing that to me?!

you've never seen me angry, and you certainly did not pick a prime way to see an example of my fury.
do you think that it was okay to just stand me up like that?
do you think it's fine?
did you honestly see it as a good idea?
What, was there no time at all, in the past 12 hours to call me?

Did you just change your mind?
Or did you never want to do it in the first place?
Just wanted to spare my feelings.
Well fuck you.
Fuck. You.
I don't need your bullshit.
I don't need this, here, not here, care, don't care fucking around.

I had too much of that with him

You know that. You knew that.
You knew and yet still you pull this stuff.
Still you do this to me again and again and again
and get offended when my faith in you wavers.

How dare you.
How fucking dare you.

I don't need this.
I don't need you.

If I hear another song about angels-

I will make the pilgrimage to Jerusalem

and I will drink myself to death

Am I wasting myself here

while i can be wasting away elsewhere?
You
You think I make no sense

you think these words are here for the sake

of having words down.

I will go to Aden.
Go to Aden and find the garden
find the garden and go to sleep.
In my sleep I know I'll find my way.

For all my talk of travel

for all my high speechs

all I want is what everyone wants

All I want is a place to breathe

and a place to be free.

I remember taking your hand,

so long ago,

and you taking me on flights.
And I would call you Peter,

and you would call me Sweetheart.
And I would call you Darling,

and you would let me fall.
But oh I remember the stars.
Oh, I remember how the clouds in the air

made me skin tingle

and my very toes want to sing.

Jerusalem cannot hold me down

Garden of Eden will not let you rest.

And I will not let you, Peter

I will not let you

drop me again.
I will not remain in a tower

or a room

or any place I'm put.
It's not survival

It's splashing water on my face
so I don't rip it off.

I will go to Jerusalem and Aden.

I will go and find the bottom

of every bottle,

go and sleep easy in the garden.

2009

I don't wanna make a huge thing out of this new years thing, however, this year i will;

1. put myself out there more
2. finish writing a story
3. take advantage of the oppertunities i have
4. learn how to do something new (cross stiching maybe?)
5. spend one evening a week by myself.
6. feed a homeless man
7. learn double dutch
8. get a head start on my italian, i've let it drop this year
9. decide if i want to continue singing
10. spend less money
11. stop putting it off and get my license
12. apoligize to the people who deserve it
13. let my pride take the day off
14. possibly get a new job
15. actually wear what i have in my wardrobe
16. take better care of myself 17. go to imc and get a hut, and finish a song.
18. go to my cabin with a friend
19. go to my cabin alone
20. spend more time w. old friends
21. go for coffee with people i hardly know
22. get over my fear of diving boards
23. laugh once a day
24. take more pictures
25. let my family teach me something
26. appreciate, embrace, and accept