Experience

Been experiencing a spell of bitchiness. Period + lack of sleep + stress = monster. It also has to do with the fact that I'm so tired of being a push over, but I guess going the complete opposite way doesn't help the situation.

I was really close to quitting but held off; I saw the experience as liberating. Just now after reading ashlingfall's post, that's what I felt like then - what I wanted to experience from quitting. I'm not sure then exactly why I'm not - am I just comfortable with my monotonous life?

But I realized other things...like, quitting will not make my life "un" monotonous. It wont solve that. In fact...it'll probably become more monotonous, knowing me. So the problem lies with ME, not with work. I can't blame work for myself, for the way I am. The truth is I'm lazy and I CHOOSE to be lazy. For example I could be going to AYCE right now but nope, I'm here, lazy old me!

I say this with a touch of cynicalness (< a word?) but the truth is I don't feel cynical at all, in fact it's enlightening. And truthfully I accept myself, I accept who I am. I know also, though, that I work in waves - I never finish something, I'm always moving. That's ironic isn't it? Sag VS Cancer nature? hahahah. So I think that has something to do with itching to quit work. But yeah I totally see...that it's not my work, it's ME!

Always me, I'm always trying to change, for the better. But I realize now I've been changing to serve other ppl in hopes of serving myself ie. I'd be more liked (helps me). But that doesn't work, I feel bitter now (again!) for all the sacrifices I've made for other people, and their lack of appreciation. Mainly I relate this back to work. I'm tired of always being...left in the dark? Unimportant? I know I'm weird, I don't try to hide that. I'm also brutally honest; I'm not good at hiding what I think/feel. But at the same time, I'm timid. I retract the things I say, I smile and I joke. I refrain from telling people about my life when I see they aren't interested, even if I listen to their problems all the time. I hardly take charge, I go with the flow.

Mainly, I try to be nice to balance the fact that I "appear" so bitchy/sad.

I'll tell you all a secret. The truth is, I'm usually not bitchy/sad, but, this past year has been hard, and I'll admit, I haven't been happy much. But NOW, now I've been feeling more happy - and you know what? It hasn't made a difference. People still ask me why I look miserable, people still say I'm mean. So it comes down to I'M LAZY. I'm boring I guess? I'm monotonous? I don't smile like 24/7 cause I see no reason to? That doesnt mean I'm SAD. I'm cynical cause A: it's true and I can deal with it and B: I think it's funny sometimes! I'm not 100% serious when I say "I hate Christmas"............okay maybe I am. But that's besides the point! Why do I have to conform? Even the Grinch had a point and Dickens KNEW this. He knew Christmas was BS anyway....people should be nice/generous ALL YEAR; Christmas is a sham! Dickens wrote a Christmas carol with this intention!

I don't hate joy, I don't hate giving, generosity, or showing affection. I hate COMMERCIALISM. I hate the fakeness of it all!

Anyway I'm going to stop justifying myself. Isn't that another problem? Justifying myself too much?

And they all see through it anyway. They see that I'm always lacking in confidence. I need to change that without being bitchy.

Life story.

when I was a kid I was mean, selfish, bitchy. One day I woke up, I saw what I was, how I hurt people. I wanted to be a good person. I wanted to be better. And this is how I am.....always trying. I feel like, that "bitchy"/spoiled/selfish person is always there, always my default. And all my attempts to be good take a lot of effort, erego my laziness.

Maybe?

I don't know. Honestly I'm usually better with self-reflection than this, but I've ran off on a tangent. The truth is I'm really tired. I've been cranky with my mom and this is what got me going.

Sorry for the rando post but actually it helped me a lot. To think.

Hopefully when I get a good night's sleep, I'll get over this spell

lol

None Be Wise

It's my birthday today, meanwhile I'm attempting to study for my Ondaatje exam tomorrow. I wonder what he'd think knowing that there's a whole class deticated to him, and that I'm spending my birthday studying his stuff freaking out over an exam instead of relaxing and celebrating. But I'm feeling a little cynical today. So blame that. Really, my stomach is very upset and I'm getting no where by studying. Looking forward to dinner but I hope my stomach problems don't interfere. Food should make me happy.

I've been playing my new flute quite a bit; surprisingly I find it pretty relaxing. The only annoying thing is putting it away after use: it takes forever.

God I sound boring! Like matter-of-fact text. But I suspect when I'm older I'll cherish these posts way more than I'll cherish more elaborate prose works that have nothing to do with my life. Lately, I've been thinking of taking more pictures of peoples/events, rather than things/nature/landscapes et al.

Got nothing else. Stomachhurts. I should get coffee.

To Be Wise

Even though it's late, I should at least try to start my essay.

So where's the inspirational words?

Got none. Jesus...

3 essays due. 2 on tues. 1 on wed.


....hmmm...

Sudden Asperations.

Not sure if I'm using the word wrong, but, to say, I am aspiring towards something!! That's what I'm trying for. Recently I've felt like I've been going through a depression, and just now, miraculously (??wtf is my word check??) I feel like I am coming out of it - or rather, aspiring to come out of it. I feel happy. And I know it's strange, but I haven't felt happy in a long time. I feel like, without realizing it, I have begun to stretch out my world. I used to be so gloomy thinking about how my life is so one-dimensional; I used to stress over meeting new people, making new friends, and even dating other guys. Now though, after shutting down those thoughts, I've been finding happiness in what I have rather than what I don't. And being comfortable with that I've rediscovered the things I already have. Kinda like yesterday, I went through all my old clothes and realized - I don't need any new clothes, the ones I already have are perfect! And there was a sudden newness to them too, like their potentional hasn't been fully explored yet. I've started to feel this way about other aspects of my life, especially when it comes to people I just casually know.

It's a good feeling. I hope that by writing this I don't forget, and also, I feel like just by writing, just now, I've discovered these things about myself. Yes, it's good. =) Really cool.

I'm looking forward to my birthday...I just hope that, not only 5 people show up and I get hurt. I just flashback to the Indigo thing and well yeah. Point is to not care right?? Haha, well I don't care as much as I think I will an hour before going. Ah well, what can you do?

Anyway that's depressing stuff! Happy. Happy. lol 15 people are already saying they're going, that's a lot!!

Arghh Essay to write...later

in over my head

Umm...what happened? I thought I had a lot to write? This thing is supposed to be 2500 words long (7-9 pgs ish) and I thought I had it in the bag...but now I'm on page 4 and I've miracously run out of steam? For the first time in forever I feel like I'm writing a *scholarly* essay, like, something that is NOT BS. Wow I know, right? And yet...here I am, running out of things to say. Class starts in 15 mins and there's no possible way I'll make it. It is suddenly dawning on me that I have failed to meet a deadline.

Hm..............Although not entirely bad, I'm amazed at how I failed to put it all into perspective. So much work has gone into what I have so far and yet it's only amounted to being done half the essay. I've seriously taken for granted the power of BS. BS could easily fill 7 pages instead of REAL research. Jesus. Less work too.

What the hell am I doing...plus I have work tonight. I called in just to double check and my manager answered, as soon as I told her who it was her voice suddenly lost all warmth and cheerfulness. THANKS! I guess she figured I was going to call in sick...just checking on my shift!!!

Sooo now what do I do? Knowing I've missed the deadline do I suddenly pull the reigns and chill out...OR do I maniacally (< is this a word?) rush to finish and somehow make it to class just before it ends?!?!?!??!?!

Hmmmm....

was doing good

Impressively, I wasn't freaking out about my 2500 word essay due tomorrow until about a minute ago. I myself am surprised about how quickly I cracked. Having completed the introduction I made my way over to K who was watching a movie, "Across the Universe", with T, and showed him my intro, being pretty proud of it. After looking over it I asked them if they were ready to play some Beatles Rock Band since the movie was over, and the reply I got from K was, "But you're not done your essay." He has been jabbing at me about it all night, and at first I dealt with it pretty okay, although it was getting annoying, because I knew he was joking. This time something snapped in me and I let him know straight out that I was getting tired of it. He apologized to me and said he was joking, but it's at a point where it's not funny anymore. Now the pressure on my back is there, my palms are sweaty and my stomach is knotted: I'm stressed. And honestly, I'm less stressed by the idea that the essay is due tomorrow than I am by the constant nagging about it, like when my mother kept insisting that I finish up all the packing. Being quite aware of my responsibilites, and having, throughout my life, relied fully on myself when it comes to due dates, I find outside pressures too much to handle in part because they are pointless and also because I find them to be criticisms: only I am allowed to criticize myself.

Anyway, he asked me if I wanted to play and take a break. I just mumbled and left. It further annoys me that he asks me, when I had just asked him. It's like he's taking the power away from me, or something. As if I can only work on his suggestions: do your essay?, play rock band with us?.

I'm mad, and even madder that he is just sitting in that room as if nothing happened.

Jerkface.

I think I'll be a lot less mad about this later but for now I am completely turned off from this stupid essay....

Freaking out!!

Self-explainitory. STUPID SCHOOL!

s-t-r-e-s-s

It boils down in me but expression of it is hard to come by. It flares up and dies quickly, getting lost in the throat. Your fists clench and you find yourself about to burst out about how unfair it all is...but then you stop. Being this old you know there is really no use complaining. Your steps hit the pavement with a heavy motion, slow, like someone being dragged forward against their will. There is silence. You and your comrade are lost in your own thoughts, both worried about separate things. You both understand the silence. There is nothing more to be said.

Now

All I hear is the slow heart beat -
The restless death of what can, what would,
What Could Never Be.
The stiffling cries of someone who bleeds,
Of something that struggles for air,
Lives inside me.
It can't grow without sun light,
It can't find a route of expression.
I'm dying here, slowly,
Like a wild rose trapped in the shade.
Unless these words come out,
Unless these leaves stretch out,
Into the sunshine and sweet rays,
I ain't got no fighting chance.
Find me a passage for expression,
Find me a way to sing my heart to life.
Because if I don't, even if I don't cry,
Just once -
I just may die.

Let's goooo

So time to get back into the "game", mainly, get back to real life. I've been vegetating for the last week, doing pretty much nothing productive. Although I am still sick I wanna get back on course. If there was one thing I wanted to be proud of this year it was my marks. Hopefully I manage to make myself proud.

All other things have been literally going to shit. I haven't written in officially forever. Nothing productive or artistic has come from these hands. I also haven't been to work in forever. My capacity for caring about that place has been dwindling. My social life has also been completely reduced, and I realized, tragically, is that the reason I like staying at work is because I like the people there. I feel like I'm interacting with people, involved in a social world. Yeah...I'm sure a lot of them feel that way. Recently though my home/school life has been sucking me in. I'm starting to think though...well, maybe that's not so bad. If it's happening, it's happening right? I said to myself i'd "get out there" and "meet new people" but honestly right now I'm so just like...tunnel vision to complete school.

Jesus where does the time go? Seriously.

Well whatever, take it as it comes! I anticipate quitting work after this Christmas, and honestly I think they will be happy for it. S. has become a second K. to me, totally ruining my happiness that had emerged from K.'s leaving. Whatever...now she just seems like a joke to me. I guess it's true I do have a lot of sick time...but that's bad for me right?! Like I mean, do I WANT to get sick? NO! I don't go out drinking every night and all that crap...

Anyway enough ranting. This has fallen onto, CONFIDENCE! If my work says shit about me I'll be like...whatever I know who I am, right? I don't need this place. (Even though it's a pretty good place to work.) But time to move on right? I got plans, things I wanna do. I figure if I quit work I'll start volunteering and stuff. And most importantly I wont compare myself to anyone else.

Just do what I gotta do.

hell week

Soo...last night I was talking on the phone (you know who you are!) when suddenly I began to feel super sick, like, dizzy and as if I were going to throw up. It felt like a mix of a allergic reaction to the cats and motion sickness. Bad thing was a got a huge headache as if my brain were being split in half, and weird thing is my eye turned all red and crap. Needless to say I went to sleep feeling really shitty, and this morning I feel better but, after much debate (and the fact that I am already super late) I decided to skip school. My head and eye hurt. What is this ailment???

Well.......why complain......................................? Why am I trying to defend myself? Or at least that's what I feel like I'm doing.

I just have no motivation. Sure, I could force myself to go. But when I think about it I feel so...blah.

If I thought 2 weeks ago was hell week, then I was wrong. this week is hell week. It's like the walls are all caving in, everything I tried to support is falling. The only question is can I survive even with all this half-assedness?

Oh my god this headache...wow. Maybe it's the computer screen?

I'll just take a break and then start the essay.

I'm hating myself right now, but can't let that happen.

rest

finished, handed in. week's over...so tired

anxieties...

Losing......steam..........................



Pg 2...still...pg 2...RAWRRRRRR

alright

Starting now. 6pm, have until 5pm tomorrow, but ideally, till 1pm so I can attend class. 1500 word essay.

GO!!!

another tuesday

Another time along, spent, not knowing what to do - spent wasting time. This is me without him; it doesn't make me sad, just, curious.

OR could it just be an excuse to not do my essay...?

Medea represents every woman who has ever been wronged by a man; every one of them who has given everything to him, only to have it all thrown back in their face. She is the rage, the feeling of helplessness and injustice that courses through every woman's viens for all past and forthecoming predujice and hate towards our kind.

It is an anger we can barely describe, but surely, all of us must feel.

a feeling

today i am missing him, which is strange...i have forgotten the feeling, living with him. i miss his hands, his kind words and his devotion to caring for me. even though he will just be gone until tonight, there is a void inside me. i am only half-complete,
whether this is good
or bad
that is debatable
but the truth remains that i wish you were here, to smile at me, to love me, and to be my life-long friend

lickin' my lips

The infamous feeling of self-gratification caused by chocolate.

Infamous because it FAILS.

I suddenly feel fat, a little lonely, too.

Ugh...slow. Really slow.

Mundane, super super mundane.

(What happened to auto correct for firefox?)

Lately, when I talk to people, I try to be happier/livlier, and more honest with myself. As in, if I act weird and quirky, then I just let myself, and I don't kick myself (as much) over it.

Ohhhhhhhh............milk. Stupid...icecream. Ohhh lord stomach issues.

Thought. How long has it been since I've written something..."poetic"?

Far...far too long I think. HMMMMMMM. I got nothing in me though.

Still pottling (?) along, hurting my back, my knee. Ugh my back.

How old do I SOUND?!

Tag this one as "thoughts".

just...why...

STUPID OSAP WTF

Why...?

Is it getting to me? Am I really depressing?

Why am I sad? Why shouldn't I be?

I don't know how to be what I'm supposed to be. I'm sorry I'm not fun, eccentric, exciting, interesting - beautiful?

Why do I keep getting upset about it, I don't know. I should just be content to live with my video games and books.

GPA

lol...wow I've been watching that GPA climb over the years. In 08 it was a 2.27 - 09, 2.51. Now for summer, 2.61!!

Gotta get that thing up!!!

(Let's not get into how low it was first year...heh)

spawning motivation

for cold blue.

studying

G.K. Chesterton: “Children are innocent and love justice, while most of us are wicked and naturally prefer mercy.”

stress

ahhhh osap, you and your newly added stress. i should have just went in in person and filled out my app. that way. well, i guess things can happen...parental income verification will be needed...etc

i haven't updated in so long b/c ive been so tired lately...today i feel super tired. tom i have an exam and i -should- be studying atm but...ugh ugh ugh so droswy. well i have the trip to quebec to say for that, but, it is also staying up late...working yesterday, etc.

summer is slipping away. blah blah blah, whine whine. what's new right? i've felt so bitter lately, pessimistic ? no bitter is perhaps better. i am not really expecting - anything -. Everything is exhausting...everything is one day after the other. but right now i feel like im dragging my feet, i guess i gotta keep picking it up until im at full speed again. even if im dragging through life, gotta make the best of it.

got a lot of stuff to take care of. hmm hmm...so uninspired.

doo do do doooooo

people are so exhausting...everythin is so exhausting.

i got nothing inspiring to say. i got nothing to say.

there's the tick tick of the clock and the impassioned bustle of the birds, the bees, the people around me. the sun is roaring and there's laughter, the roar of the lawn mower and the groan of the streets beyond. but me, me im in my mud puddle, im stuck in my own mud, my tears, my grimy feelings. stuck in that dark corner where no one can see me. struggling, squriming - can i get out on time? can i join everyone else in their gaity?

there's nothing. there's just this shell. gotta fill it gotta keep going. gotta roar, gotta laugh gotta cry. gotta be a flame that explodes, that never dies. like a pheonix, like a old, ancient soul.

blind but typing, typing away. tatter, todder, tittle, taddle, daddle. inconsistancy. imcomprhension.

finality.

reality check

Will it help me get stronger? Will I grow from this? Time will only tell.

languid

Rising up from lungs that can hardly pump out breath. Lost in the words of...everything else. It's so painful...but all you can do is struggle on. Struggle On. say it again. Struggle on.

slowly...

..but steadily?

Haven't started writing - still -...I think I'll get it done though. Well, I'm pretty confident I will. I just feel so uninspired.

This weather...man, it's depressing.

and...

the agony begins ALL over again...

Guess gotta start with the topic.

More of me going crazy coming your way soon.

done!

nuff said.

another essay to go.

2 pages in...

4 more to go and it's almost 9pm.

Feel relaxed, sleepy, actually. I'm not sure how this'll pull through but at least I'm not panicking anymore.

Random thought:

What'll happen when blogger dies? Will my words die with it? Makes me wonder if it was better to write it all on paper...what is the internet, anyway? It can disappear in the blink of an eye.

Tired, drained, full.

Relaxed, sleepy.

Must write approx. 4 more pages.

Later

10 minutes later

The question:

Can I finish on time?

No the more important question:

Can I start?

-stares...

at essay outline-

me bitching...again

holy god all I have is a thesis and a little bit of outlines - but but but.

Is it really that I can't do it or that i don't want to? I think it's entirely the latter. Oh my LORD CAN I DO THIS!?

It's always like this...I just got to write, just got to write...

UHHHHHHHHH

What am I writing again1?!?!

Igha igggffff...fugeaaaaaa......................MSN DISTRACT ME!


-explodes-


p.s be ready for more of these

kiou kiou

Oh blogger...I always turn to you when lost or frustrated.

Today I am frustrated. I can't build that bridge - I can't make those connections. Well maybe I can, but I'm struggling and I don't want to. I don't want to essay!!!!!!

But I should, it's due tues and this is the only way I can do it.

Essayyy essayyy

rawrrr

Pattern? I think so - I always do this to myself.

Ok this term come sept, I promise to keep up with my readings. Seriously.

p.s I married a whore named Steph and Jamie doesn't know about it. For now she's living in a carriage but I plan to buy Brightwood Tower and keep her locked up in there...so that no one can ever have her but me...heh..heh...heh

plans...?

I want to graduate asap, so I'm thinking of quitting chapters. The only thing is I like it there a lot...but...well, I don't know, I don't think I can do 5 courses and work.

I'm going to see if I can apply to osap, if anything to pay for the cost of living. Yeah, seems like the best plan.


Goodbye chapters! Hello future!.........dur

"I wish you success with all my heart"

It was in those words and the thoughts they expressed that she realized she had lost something terribly profound, something that had barely grown to its fullest potential and that she would never be able to obtain again.

when the shit hits the fan...

...it happens all at once, not in increments.

Sometimes I tell myself - I'm being tested, I must be?

I feel like I am struggling to hold onto everything yet it's tearing away and all I can hold together are scraps. Yeah just like my mom said, "What can you do? That's life, just gotta hold your head up high."

Peaches almost died yesterday, I'm not going to hide it because I don't want to. Maybe I can go back and remember this, since I don't know the exact date Toby died. But Peaches is not out of the clear, she may die over the next few days, and even after. Her hip was dislocated and since we can't afford the surgery they just popped it back in, but there's no guarantee that it'll stay there. Already we spent 1000$ on just getting her there and getting it popped back in. There's no way we can afford the rest.

And then it's funny that small things kinda push you too far. Now I've discovered that someone might not be taking my shift tomorrow morning even though they said they would, and it's my responsibility because I didn't tell a manager. But I was too goddamn busy with -life- and all the shit that hit the fan that I wasn't thinking about some Sunday morning shift.

Whatever...I guess if I have to I will do the fucking shift...I need the money anyway.

Atm I am supposed to be getting ready for Betty's party. I feel tired. I feel drained. I feel like the summer heat is far away from me.

I remember swaying grass and the buzz of summer bugs. The trees move with the wind and birds chip from within their branches. It is warm and I'm sweating a little, but for the most part, I am at peace.

My childhood - I had no clue what pain or troubles are. I feel like even now, though, I still can't imagine how far pain can go.

Sometimes, though, I can't breathe and I feel like curling into a ball and just lying there. But I wont, I just wont.

I guess there's nothing more to say.

father's day

It feels nice just to sit around with the family, even though I've been sick. Today was a really nice day for a long while, even though now it's grown cloudy and dark. I guess when it's humid it's safe to assume that it's going to rain.

Phew I'm boiling hot right now...not sure if it's that humidity or if it's a fever. Doh.

Tomorrow I'm going to the doc's, not because I think I need to but because I think I might need a note. My workplace has kinda been coming down on my ass *politely* about how I apparently take too much time off. What I don't get is that they are always cutting hours so why do they care so much...? Unless it's because they are angry that someone else coulda taken the shift - I don't know. What I do know is my *body* and I know when I get sick, I need time to rest. It's exactly the reason that I forced myself into work that I got more sick when I was feeling better - I could just tell.

Sigh whatever, I just keep telling myself if work fires you, it'll be politely, and besides they can't fire you for being sick just probably shift you less...Yeah.

Money has been tight but what's new? We knew this would happen and we overspent in the past. Yeah it's okay....yeah I think it is.

I've been thinking about friendship, recently, and I think I've shed a new skin of my childhood. I am too loyal to my closest friends, I choose to be nicest to them, to devote myself to them. Yeah, basically, immense loyalty. A person has to win that loyalty, too, and time is a long test. Recently I discovered that time wasn't enough, though, and that a life-long friendship can be compromised. I don't even mind talking about it here b/c I know she will never read this. She never has - I'm not saying that says something...well, maybe I am.

Maybe I am learning that beyond Keane there is nothing. There is the vast world and everyone is occupied within their own mini-worlds. Where is *my* world - a world that is solely my own? I'm not sure, it's probably here but I just need to grow it. I'm learning, I think.

I'm not bitter, I am...remote, and there is this little bit of passion burning within. I can't help it, I think I will always be a passionate person. But now I see that my devotion comes with heavy prices, even though all my life I've been proven that friendships are weak. People can drift.

I am not 100% devoid of my loyalty. This may sound corny, but there are still a couple of people that I still believe in, and I'm sure you know who you are. I just...am more aware now.

Memories of the past keep surfacing. Summer days with the buzz of bugs and the tall, wavy grass. Children laughing and sweating as they crawl through it. Later on, they'll be itchy but it was fun and it was magical, in its own way.

This is me being melodramatic, isn't it?

No, I don't care if it is. I'm an artist, goddammit, and the difference between other people and artists is that we dare to feel even if it hurts, even if it pushes us to the edge. We capture those feelings - we capture the intensity.

Yes, instead of being angry - be charming!!! Haha...Why be angry at myself for the way I am? I admit, if I let myself go 100% I would be WAY too impulsive and way too overemotional, but I don't. I'm my father's daughter just as much as my mother's. If my mom acts on pure impusle then my dad is the complete opposite. I take from both, I'm sure. And then there's the little bit that's soley me.

What is confidence? It's the ability to say "I can see these things about myself that are good, and if others can't see it, that's their problem. I will try my best, but that doesn't mean I'll comprimise my belief in myself."

I am learning.

I've been reading finally for leisure and I love it. (It's the Assassin one - I keep forgetting the title). And yeah, I must say it's been inspiring me as if filling up an empty jug of water. I don't know why reading other stuff inspires me, but it just does - it puts me into narrative mode. lol.

Yeah, completely, I feel more like myself after reading. I don't know why - who is that self, I don't know. It's like saying hello to a person I've never met before, but knowing them, recognizing them as if I've known they were always there. It's hard to explain...but basically it is giving me strength and I'm not sure why. Maybe it puts my mind at ease, or it makes me think...

"Shit I can write better than this - what the hell!"

Haha, and that gives me hope? I'm not sure. This particular story has got me thinking about the doc. called "Kobin" - the one about the Tower Witch. I like that one a lot.

Anyway I'm rambling...but I feel older now which is ironic because I wanted to feel younger. Oh...I wish I wasn't so sick, I'd try to get so much more done but it's like I've been on hiatus.

Well I'm done and left to do I'm not sure what cause I'm sick. OooohHH Well.

See ya'll

a horoscope?!

I know, I just read one today and I fell for the trap. Yeah it did relate to my life a lot, but one thing that especially stood out was that it said, "Don't be angry, be charming." Which is how I think I've been acting - angry, not charming at all. Hopefully I can find time to be charming, and I want to be...but now being sick. Dammit dammit! And without the money from these days of work...sigh.

Maybe I should just move back home...especially if I can't afford to live by myself. I'm just lying, ain't I? I'm just pretending that everything can be okay.

Well...I don't know. Be charming...can I be? I hope so, I do.

I want to wear my summer clothes and I want to go swimming. I want to play the flute.

I want to...

Well, whining is not charming, is it?

I wont apologize, but I'll become stronger and I'll change. I will smile and I'll stop trying to be sad. It's stupid, isn't it? If a person has the capacity to be happy, why wouldn't they? Perhaps that's the biggest lesson I need to learn, that all in all my strength lies in my ability to recognize the things I do wrong and ultimately to do something for them.

Who am I? I don't know. I know I'm still young and that a year, a month, a week, a day...an hour a minute can make the biggest differences in all of us. But either way I will work on it - and towards something. What is that something? It's been allusive to me, but perhaps my problem is that I've been putting too much value on that "something".

I want to be an author. I want to go to teacher's college. And yeah I know that sounds a little ridiculous but I do want to, if it is for such a petty reason as to earn a decent living. I've never been one to measure beyond my capacities - I may not ever write to fullfil a career, but I know I -will- write. I know I will.

Anyway, inspiring? I don't know. Hopefully. I just want to stop being sick so I can earn some goddammed money.

Not angry, charming, not angry, charming.

New Mantra.

At parent's...sick...bored, but it's for the best.

Sorry btw Jade, I was actually really looking forward to Saturday night. I really want the chance to meet new people...but well, I guess seeing off a friend is more important than my own selfish reasons. *and of course I wanted to spend time with you*

Anyway, I said I wouldn't apologize for anything. I will not "sorry" vomit - nonononono.

Needs tos:

-Inquire about summer camp.
-Make a resume to put on file with the school's tutoring thingie.
-Select courses for next term.

AND HOMFG! I actually need to start *reading* all the crap I gotta read for school. Jesus.

Side goals:

-Write, as always.
-Flute?
-Meet new people...*** Change** Somehow....

Feeling sick...I want to email those ppl from the school though and find out where my 50 is....

I'm sick

Of all things I have learned, if it's not one thing, it's another.

Can't I just be sad? Just say it...I am sad.

But ohhh wellies right~! What's *that* going to change?

Okay being sarcastic isn't going to help. Just gotta deal. Just gotta deal.

How to deal?

Something's going to give. Will it be me? Will I crack?

Or will I run away?

Or will I die trying?

Even if you say you're here, you have your limits, don't you?

don't tell me....

...not to give up. don't tell me that shit...just don't...i'm so tired of it...why...i'm so angry...why...where is the sun, the sky? the warmth? why does it rain all the time? can't at least, the weather be agreeable, even if my life isn't?

I thought that doing this, I'd hurt people. But so far I have not even "done" anything...and I have hurt people, I have fucked up royally. I have hurt myself, which is one thing...but to hurt another.

I am alone, I am standing in the abyss. I am suffocating but slowly without struggle. All around me is dust and I can't see everyone through the haze. So far away, I am just cold. Totally cold.

I

You

Why?













Don't you miss the old days?

It is...

...not probable but it is turbulent. My heart is self-destructive. It wreaths in pain and empty tears...capturing my breath...expelling toxic feelings.

At this point in time...

...my body is slightly tilted towards the horizon, wondering at the tranquility of the sky. It is deep and harbours an inexpressible eternity that inspires me with wonder but also melancholy. What exactly does that sun rise to each morning? How does the sky rest peacefully above our heads? It's just there...it lives and breathes in its own capacity, it cares not for the millions of things that bother every single human that wanders in their aimless cycles.

It is the sky in all its glory, and I am slightly leaning to it, wondering what exactly it is that it can teach me - perhaps, that life is there, that empty sky? That all we worry for is naught, all we struggle towards is met in the end with emptiness?

No, it cannot be...the sky is there, and I am here. The sky knows not all my struggles, all my wants and needs, it cannot encompass me, it cannot fathom every fabric of me in the human world. I can wonder at the sky, I can love it and everything it stands for, for even, the fact that it is there. But can the sky love me? Can it wonder at me? No, it can't, and without humanity to wonder at anything...even with all the burdens they bear...then what would be left to wonder, to praise, to love?

I am slightly tilted towards the horizon, and I am wondering at it, a little lost, a little melancholy, but I am still walking forward into something, something real and something that matters to me. For all my worries, for all my smiles, even looking at the sky I am drawn backwards willingly. I can love it all at once, I can take moments to drink the empty sky and moments to cry from a full heart of human passions.

no...it had never occurred to me

Even though it was just some passing thought......

....I can't even seem to understand it...but it's overwhelming.....

...What is there then?....

...It just happens like it's supposed to...doesn't it? What can you do? It just is?

It hadn't even occurred to me...

20C

The point is to stay positive...

in a single minute

And then it all changed.

just to say hi

SUMMERRRR OMG I <3 YOUUU

Makes me wanna do EVERYTHING!! It's like I'm coming out of my bloody shell of depression and just living!! YEAHHH SOOO happy. Everything just feels happier. It does that to you...doesn't it? hahha Well I'm a victim of pathetic fallacy then.

Ah it's just awesome.

I've got chores to do but I'm procrastinating rAWR. I just feel so unmotivated to do it by myself but I might as well............

a little....

Was thinking about the movie "A Little Princess" and suddenly the song came up and a flood of memories came over me. Memories of feelings that come along with that of the film. It's my childhood or ...the things I believed in.

Why am I having such a hard time explaining it?

Lol....well I want to feel that peace again. Sitting in the sunshine and looking out into the world and its mysteries. Is that so hard to find?

I found myself, but lost it again. I grasped it for but a moment before it slipped away through the trees. Sometimes I chase it. Sometimes I forget it's there, somewhere. Before long perhaps I am someone else, I am no longer it, but yet I still seek it. There is an infinite of possibilities, I am the one and am all at once. But what I want to be is not who I am, it is always what I will become.


Ok that didn't make sense. Basically...I am always thinking...the way I was when I was a kid is someone I want to be now. But is it really? Maybe it's time to let go of the past and look forward to being something different. I shouldn't wait for myself to "stabilize". I should embrace what I am becoming and work with it as best as I can.

But aren't I doing that already?

Maybe - that's the frustrating part. I'm filled with confusion again. Boo you seem far away from me but maybe I'm just far from you.

Just hang on.

feeling...

confused...but tired...it disappears into memory...it fades away into normal happenstance...it just is...

and yet

something curls in my stomach; fear or excitement? I can't tell...

just feeling...

...

More more moreeeeee

Ok so it's the final exam. So one more dose of "OMFG I'M GOING TO FAIL!!!!" from me and then you guys get a break and this blog can finally start having some substance.


I'm going to fail.

It's my only C-level course and throughout the course I could tell there's a higher level of expectation. On most of my quizzes I got a 76% even though I thought to myself I'm not sure what else I could have written.

-sigh-

Not to mention that I haven't read a lot of the material for this course...(and it's a lot of reading I tell you).........

Well, gotta stay positive. At this point if I study what I can maybe I can pass but with a bad mark. If I get a bad mark I will at least pass the course.......


OMG is this me on my way to a degree?!?! -pulls hair- I will graduate with a 2.4 average I just know it!!!

ha...haha

Ok so I know I've been neglecting my friends recently, but I have been reading your emails and blog posts! Just no time to reply. =( sorry guys...

Just came here quickly to say I'm alive but going through a shit storm!! lol Tonight I have an exam at 7pm and lemme tell you I got a lot to learn in the next 5ish hours! Man...history is not for me.

Status so far is that I did not bad on my AM lit exam (I think) so we'll see how it all goes......tonight.

DUn Da Dunnnnnn.

Seriously gotta change from history major to english specialist....lol

----

Update:

I just took a look at my study guide, and apparently I have to write an essay question that is worth 50% of the exam. Now get this, she wants us to have a thesis and supporting evidence from lecture, the textbook, and the tutorials. The quesiton has been given to us in advance. BUT she does not want us to use any aids. How does that make sense?? How am I supposed to memorize my thesis and all that supporting evidence? History is crazy I swear. In English, if they want supporting stuff like that they tell you that you can bring an outline. Here they expect so much of you. Seriously not taking history anymore I swear. I know I'm going to totally bomb this exam.

At the edge of the field...

There was an incredible feeling of peace as she watched her friends slowly make their way over. The field was wide, open, the hydro wires above weren't big enough to block out the sky. It was summer, the one time of the year where the people could finally stretch, breathe, and smile without black eyes and grey, pinched skin.

--------

It just came out, wishing for summer, I guess. So an update. I've been studying, ish. Not totally slacking like usual, but at the same time I don't know if I'm ready for this. Okay I'm not ready for this. Two of the essay questions are on "Notes of a Native Son" - 2 of them. I've never read notes of a native son and I missed the lecture (apparently). Ok...so, he said he's going to ask us about 2 of the 4 essay questions. Meaning one of them is DEFINITELY going to be on notes of a native son. But then again...that means the other one definitely wont. A blessing? No...never. lol.

Anyway, not too worried at this point just suddenly very exhausted after writting that above snippet. I need food but I don't want to eat because at 5ish Keane will be bringing home food. Maybe I need more tea..but that led me onto a sugar rush.

I feel comfortable, sleepy. I can't wait for summer. It brings a rush of excitement and wonder, happiness, peace. It makes me smile to think of the friends I've been missing.

Ah tired again. -yawns- One more outline. Need to make sure I get down Baldwin's main points.

And so it begins...

I have recently been slacking huge-time in rebellion to the intense stress I was in during school. This was not procrastination...this was blatant, "well, I guess I'm going to screw myself over". But, way I see it, at least for my AM LIT exam, is that if I survived his first yr courses without studying much...perhaps I have a chance now. (Although mind you I may have passed those courses, but that doesn't mean I did *well*). Ok so it looks like first year I got A- in his first term and then a C in his second....hahaha...-eye twitch- OMG look at those grades!! 55% for Critical Writing about Literature! Oh wow! Almost failed...holy smokes. *swts* I hope I'm not taking these memories of slacking and succeeding from the second term...because clearly that went to shit.

Anyway...I think at this point the worst damage I can do is drop myself to a C (I hope). My average has gone up from 2.65 (I believe) to a 2.77 because of last term. Wait not I'm not sure...there's a cumilative and a sessional...omg if it's cumaltive then I'm at a 2.27............

Ok I can't worry about these things. Gotta focus. Just pass the exams........bad marks we can worry later.

Again I start thinking, maybe uni isn't for me?!?!!?

Snow

You used to smile for me.

Now you curse me; you frown. You wish I would leave sooner than I should. How come you don't smile anymore? Now fire burns around you; you seek to destroy me - you push me away.
What happened to when you were younger? You would spend hours with me, just the two of us. You were content. You would laugh and play in the snow; your heart was warm even if your nose was cold. You knew me as well as I knew you, once, you thought you were me.
Do you remember? The thick snow that rose above your front door, the ice tunnels you built under the snow? Can you smell the pine trees, thick and laden with snow? Do you still consider me beautiful?
Your father would say, "You'll hate it, one day."
"No!" you'd cry, everytime. "Never." You'd love me forever, you promised, you'd always smile when you saw me.
Every birthday you insisted that I must come. Without me, it wasn't the same, you claimed. Now you think on that sorrowfully, if I don't come, a look of disapointment crosses your eyes but you don't complain. Somewhere within you, you wonder about me. You love me but you intend to push me away.
Was this always our fate, or did you make it this way?
Well, if it's war you want, then so be it. But you love me, I know you love me even till this day.

And so...

There was no way he'd wear it.

Every night off, when we weren't running special errands for Anthony, she would be knitting away in a little corner of own room. Whenever I asked her about it all she would say was, "Just making myself a scarf." As if she needed a scarf. The cold barely bothered her anymore. What's worse is that sometimes I'd catch her at night working at it..."Winter will be over soon", she'd say, "If I don't finish it then what'll be the point?"

"You'll ruin your eyes," I'd tell her grumpily from my mattress, half-asleep.
"No," she'd assure me through the darkness; I couldn't see her at all. "Trust me, I wont."

It took her about a month to finish and days flew by. The land was still covered in a heavy winter, as if spring could never come; as if it has never existed. It was on one of the colder days that Tory presented it to him. The three of us were alone in his 'office' at the front of the school, across from Carter's room. Everything was in order, as usual. His desk was bare, all paper, pencils, and typical office supplies were probably locked into his drawer; resources, such as paper, were rare. His desk was under the window, which I found curious but it had to be the coldest location to sit under. There were moderate chairs, two in front of the desk, one behind it - the one behind was obviously the most comfortable. On the other side of the room there were three books shelves, all packed. I couldn't make out any titles since the light from the window didn't touch there. The most shocking aspect of the room - the single decoration - was a line of pictures (mostly taking from colouring books) coloured by children, lining the far wall. Each one had something scribbled along the lines of, "I love you Anthony!" I had to resist laughing. His bed was a completely covered mattress on the far wall to the left, parallel to the window. On each side was a bookshelf. It appeared to be perfectly ordered.
We took off our shoes which was custom before entering any room - the hallways allowed for shoes - and placed them on a matt just inside the door. We stepped forward, Tory closing the door behind her, and waited. Anthony was standing, looking out the window - we could see a side view of him. As usual, he appeared as haunting, mysterious - annoying.
I looked over to Tory with a little bit of a smile, forgetting, painfully, that she couldn't see it. I was smiling because of the way she gripped the scarf. I had always known it wasn't for her, but to see it all happen...well, it made me all gooy inside. I wanted to run, I wanted to bury my face in the sand. I was Tory's eyes. I could see Anthony's expression, and I would be the one to get embarrassed. My stomach clenched while waiting.
"Anthony," I jumped, not believing she had went straight to the punch; this girl was brave.
He turned slowly, narrowing his eyes while adjusting to the light to see us.
"What is it?" he asked, noticing, with a sort of curiousity, the scarf in her arms. It was long...extremely long, and wide; she had chosen black from the stores room. It seemed fitting, I couldn't imagine Anthony wearing any other coloured scarf. The thing was oddly spaced out too, with stretches in the stiching here and there. I tried to analyze what Anthony thought of it as she held it out to him, but his eyes only showed confusion.
"This is for you," Tory said earnestly, holding out the scarf awkwardly.
In the case of offered items, you will come across two different kinds of people. There are the kind who will instantly take what you offer them, even if, let's say, it was a piece of garbage. Then there are those who have most likely been tricked this way too many times in the past, or, are not very trusting - as in Anthony's case - who simply stare at the items offered. This is precisely what happened; my stomach tied knots on itself for Tory and my face flushed.
She pushed it forward, a little impatiently, and I could see her blushing.
"Did Angel put you up to this?" he asked slowly, finally deciding to take the object. "I didn't know she could knit."
Tory hesitated, then said, "Yeah...she did."
I snapped my head around to her, surprised; she nudged me a little with her arm, since we were standing close to each other.
"She said she wanted to make you a scarf, since you don't seem to have one."
My eyes timidly went towards Anthony, who touched the scarf gently; something that resembled a grin peeked from the corner of his mouth.
"Well, I'll have to thank her..."
"No, don't!" Tory interrupted, hesitating. "She...was too shy to give it to you. If you say thanks, it'll make her embarrassed."
At this point Anthony seemed to notice something was up. He looked at Tory for a few moments, skeptic and analyzing. It seemed, at least in my eyes, that he understood - or at least guessed - the situation. He wouldn't, or couldn't rather, say anything though because his mind probably couldn't wrap around the idea of a guy making him a scarf. It was not that Anthony was homophobic, or that knitting was a 'girl's job', but rather he was so used to the codes set between males, that the circumstances were heavily unlikely to him. Hesitating, while most likely working these things out in his head, he wrapped the scarf around his neck.
"Well, thank you," he said, not sure who he was thanking. "This will help."
Tory's smile radiated, it was a sun of its own. I felt myself blushing, trying to hide my face with my hand. It was time for us to get down to business or else I'd have to get the hell out of there.
"Yeah..." I said quickly, "nice scarf, we'll let Angel know. Anyway...you called us?"
He nodded, scarf forgotten. As he was telling us the duties for the day I looked over to Tory who seemed to be staring out the window. Lost in a world of her own, her small smile was enough to show all her hard work had been worth it.

sigh...all flustered out

I was looking up "put on a pedastal" on google because I wanted to find a word that matched that sort of meaning...and somehow I found a blog called: White Women Suck!

I couldn't resist my temptation. I just had to reply...and i must say that I put way more effort into it than I did with this essay. (I hope this guy doesn't find my blog...lol) Apparently, and not surprisingly, your comment has to be approved by him before it will appear. This is another reason why I want to put my reply to it here...I can't have worked that hard for nothing, right?? Right?!??! lol

My comment:

Quite frankly...I don't even see the need for the creation of this blog. Is it even relevant that white woman were treated "better" than other women in the past (and present)? Why are women grouped by the colour of their skin? Why should that be relevant in an age like today? We are all individuals, and we live in individual situations. A person's suffering should not be compared to another's. Everyone lives their own lives and are faced with their own challenges. People who suffer should not bring each other down by saying petty things like "you are not suffering as much as me so you shouldn't talk!" We are in a day and age where every person is unique, and every person's problems are unique. I have less control of the past as anyone else today does, and I'm sure that women, no matter how they were mistreated, had no control of theirs either. I hope you are not suggesting that white women should have been thankful for not being treated as badly as other women were, and therefore accepted their fate? And exactly what do you mean by "white women"? You are making a large generalization about groups of people who were all very different in their own regard.

I do agree that some people have an overpowered sense of feminism...people are far too politically correct, sometimes, but at the same time that applies to anything, not only women. It can apply to politics, religion, and nationalism.

The impression I'm getting from you is that you are bitter about certain women you have met in your life that you have tried to appeal to but failed (I am not blaming either party) and you are taking it out on the majority of them. This 'chivalry' you speak of btw...do you actually even know it's origins? Can you even comprehend what it means? There is a whole history behind that, that I wont get into. Perhaps you should put more research into it before talking about it, especially since you seem to know so much about history when it comes to the suffering of "coloured" groups of women.

But anyway...it's necessary to see that we are living in an age where gender roles and expectations have rapidly and very suddenly changed in only the past - what, fifty years? (In America). Even longer than that, and unfortunately people get caught. All of us get caught within gender confusion, especially men who are given a double standard - to be 'chivalrous' and yet to 'still be a man' and yet to 'give women rights'. It is confusing, but it's confusing for everyone.

We are all changing together, and in the process, let's try to remember the *person* not the group. One person does not make the face of the whole. Reach out to people, don't push them away, no matter how many silly ones you come across. Don't loose faith in the masses just because of a few sorry individuals...and because of the confusion of current gender issues.

More rambles...

I successfully MASS-BSED my essay...it was amazing. I wrote eight pages straight of the most useless things ever! I must say I'm proud of myself. But now I have to go back and source...and correct, everything I bsed about in order to make it sound...

heh...

Like a univeristy student's paper, is the word, I suppose. At least, I need to not get kicked out of school for completely failing to source anything...

(although everything I wrote came from my own mind...heheheheh so I'm not sure they could)

Either way, I need to bring it up to my own standards. This brings me here...flipping through books, searching for supporting evidence, discovering that I totally facked up on various pieces of info...

HMMM This is the hard part, my friends!!! Don't think you can get away with doing mindless blam blam blam on your keyboard. Even English requires you to flip through pages of the novel your studying and say...

"Well clearly by SUCH ____ passage we see that THIS PERSON is completely...etc...etc."

You get my drift. In this case, I'm shooting off random claims without any support. And...repeating my claims over and over, at that. My thesis really has no grounds in the work as a whole...

Ohhh fackers...I'm really just hoping for a sixty at this point. But honestly...I can't see myself just giving up on it. If anything...there's no way I could lower my standards to that level.

FIGHT FIGHT!!!!!!

The question....

The only question this time, is if I really do finish all 8 pages will I be satisfied with the result? These hands...they've produced too much bs. these past few weeks -- is there anything left?

3 out of 8 pages in. 4ish more to go.

After this. One more essay due. (Not started).

The last essay I wrote was crap (I know it). This one is turning out shit too...M. if you really thought I tend to bs., you haven't seen anything yet. At least with my Mac. King essay I actually felt some sense of pride...now all I have is exhaustion. Every word I type is exasperated...

Even this...like dead leaves falling from my lips...I breathe in but I choke on them. It's not beautiful...none of it. Outside the birds chip...Spring slowly creeps in -- can it reach me from in here?

Previous Post cont.

(Slacking off from essaying cont.)

The boy who had burned his eye had just started calling out for help when the campus police came rushing through the crowd, helping the few people of station who had been trying to disperse the curious students. A few officers came forward to meet the group but there was a loud crack and the door behind them went flying off with flames consuming it. The girl managed to gaze a peek behind them to view a man in a grey business suit. The only impressions she could gather of him is that he was thin and tall, with pale short-clipped blonde hair. He wore glasses that covered translucent blue eyes that seemed to shine with wickedness (whether awesome or frightful she wasn't sure - maybe both). The girl had seen all this because she was the only one who had remained still, in shock, as the door had gone flying past them.
"Run!" said the other girl to her, pulling her arm. The girl was only aware of loud shouts of confusion, the police pointing guns to the man and the surge of bodies that erupted in every direction to escape. Because of their position, their group of six were the only ones to run outside in a panic like frightened deer; led by the left-handed boy they all were orderly and purposeful. They made their way down a steep hill that made most of them tumble frantically until finally reaching the bottom, swallowed up by the forest below.
There they lay in silence, some, like the girl, in completely awkward positions. She had tumbled through a large bush and landed on a fallen tree. The consequences were stinging scratches and a sore back, but for the most part she was lucky. All around her came the moans of the others, a gasp here and there of pain. Each of them were breathing hoarsely, most except for the left-handed boy took time to look over their wounds. The burnt-eye boy was proding his wound and his face was contorting quickly into horror. In moments, she felt, they would all erupt into panic.
The left-handed boy looked at her steadily, he had been crouching and peering around, possibly taking in their surroundings. His left arm was tucked safely on his lap while the other kept him steady on the ground.
"Name?" he asked her, his olive skin was smudged with dirt and his close-cut hair had leaves in them. His face, as she had noticed was usual, was serious. He wore the clothes of a fashionable Eurpoean young man, with a graphic t-shirt and well-fitting jeans (versus the type that fell to some boys knees). He had some facial hair, and to her looked like the equivilant of a (possibly?) Spainish David Beckham. Being of a wholly American ancestory (for as far back as that could go) she neither had the ability, nor care, to idenitify his ethic background. She identified him by his crooked mouth that always seemed to frown and his mysterious dark brown eyes. If they caused any effect on her then it was merely a feeling of intense inferiority; confidence radiated from him.
"Alexis," she said slowly, finding that her throat was hoarse. Just speaking had brought tears to her eyes.
Whatever he thought of the name wasn't evident - as for herself, she felt the need to always have an excuse for it - It was the name of my mom's Grandma - as if anyone would care. For the most part, they didn't, and of all times now wouldn't be the time to, anyway.
"David," he told her, and quickly looked on to everyone else. (Alexis was left wondering at the fact that he looked so much like the soccer player) "You guys?"
"What - what is off with you?" the burnt guy erupted; he then spouted aggressive words with no substance - just anger and shock. His voice was rising.
"Shut up," David said sternly, brow crossing. "Do you want them to hear?"
He shut up, lowering his hand from his face. What they saw wasn't pretty - puss and delicate, pink skin molded together over his eyelid. As for Alexis, she was quite close to throwing up. The others might have felt the same because they turned white.
"Hear?" the burnt one demanded. "We were so close to the police - they were handling things. And instead we took off into the woods - why? How should I..." Again he was feverishly panicking, the girl with a disturbed look rose and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Johnathan please!" she told him with a shaky voice, "Get a hold of yourself!"
One other boy with tear and mud streaks down his face attempted to argue reason, "I think we should go back, John needs to...you know, see someone."
"What's your name?" David asked him.
"Felix," he said slowly, unsure.
"Felix you may do that but as for myself, I am staying right here. Call me a coward but whatever just happened there was no act of a terrorist. There was no bomb. What I saw was a man who could make fire pop out of his hand as if he were from a comic or something. If you guys want to deal with that, be my guest. As for me, I'm getting out of here."
"What?" the last boy, chubby but harmless-looking asked, "Are you sure? Tha-that..." he could not continue, every word he gulped down what Alexis assumed was fear.
"I saw what I saw," he responded with closed eyes, and quickly opened them.
It suddenly dawned on Alexis, "Let's call an ambulance," she said quickly, "tell them to meet us..." Alexis found herself slowing down, her words coming out like stones, impossible to pass through her lips. Her body drooped, and she noticed with intense fear that the others were also sinking to the ground, apparently asleep or unconcious.
Desperatly she tried to stay awake, her body swaying no matter how hard she fought.
"This one...up...fight...her out."
A blurred figure approached, but before it could compelte its orders she collapsed to the ground, the effects that had overcome the others finally pushing her to the edge.

Another republishing; A New Tag

Maybe there's some fiction in it all. In everything you see and you touch, leaving after images and thoughts, trailing whispers that leave you wanting more. You're left standing in wonder, "Did this really happen?" and find yourself never sure. The world and all that happens in it is some sort of haze that covers your eyes, like fairy dusty, like beautiful lies. What are we but mere victims on a stage; who is amused by this tormenting charade?
So is it too far to say all is a woven tale? An interlocking web of fiction, of wishes, hopes, dreams, constantly conflicting with reality? Perhaps they are all lies, and maybe all we do is worthless, futile, as we attempt to swim upriver, to our deaths.
Is it not poetic how we grasp out for one another? "Save me!" we cry. "Please love me..." we sigh. But all and all we are just trying to make the best of everything. Even if on a daily basis the world lies to us, even if...we are lying to ourselves. Somehow we spare some moment to bask in each others company, or to enjoy silent moments on our own. Somehow we survive becoming adults, and then survive becoming old. Can we do it together? Can we weave an amazing story? Is it possible to work together, to create a happen ending?
Because maybe there's some fiction in it all.

--------------

I seemed to dream more, back then. There was more fiction in everything. I'm republishing this because I want to inspire myself. I know this is who I am...

Wait...something's coming....Can it bear fruit?:

-------------------


10:30am and the prof was only just starting to talk about the lecture, having just informed her students about the upcoming final and what it would entail. She was a little energetic for such a subject, but it helped to offset the mundane. It was always better when a professor was enthusiastic about what they taught even at the price of sometimes listening to long rants. This older woman was actually the better of all Sarah's other profs, but it was still hard to keep awake through two straight hours of class with only a five minute break in between. At this particular interval she was already losing track of what the prof was saying.
The Holy Roman Empire was split...by what? She had completely missed the line. Sighing, the young student peeked to her right where a classmate sat, wondering if she could see what he had written. Unfortunately he was left-handed, so it was pretty much impossible for her to make out anything relevant. Besides, she felt even if she had read them she wouldn't understand. Notes are a particular thing for each individual, it's like trying to break a code.
She decided it best to focus her attention on the prof instead, resting her chin on her hand and staring intently towards them to help pay attention. She had to squint to make out the prof's face from so far above; she was sitting at the farthest row of seats, right near the door. It was the perfect spot for an easy escape, after all, and for the life of her she had no clue why anyone would want to sit right up at the front anyway.
In some corner of her mind she felt like there were eyes on her and it was somewhat distracting, but in all her life she was never one to take bait of these feminine senses. It was telling her that the boy on her right was looking her way, and rather obviously too - but still unable to be true to her - without a wavering gaze. Within that deep subconscious part of her that was aware of his gaze there was also a hint of excitement; the boy was rather good-looking, so it didn't hurt to think just maybe he is looking my way?
For a moment she scrunched her bright green eyes together, too embarrassed for herself to even let such thoughts fester. There was nothing in her life at the time that left room for boys, and even then, she doubted the idea of one of them looking her way.
If anything, she thought, he is most likely thinking about how strange I must be.
Again she had to scrunch her eyes. There was also no room for self-pity.
"And in the later half of the century..."
She was finally starting to gain focus again when out of the corner of her eye there was movement. Figures streamed in from the doors at the bottom sides of the lecture room so quickly that she had no time to register what was going on before there was suddenly a flash of blazing light that forced her backwards after being hit with a strong heat wave. There was a multitude of cries, all linked together, collecting and then gradually receding. With some awareness she knew she had toppled over her chair and hit the ground. Her first feelings were embarrassment in case anyone had seen. This fear made her rise slightly with her arms and open her eyes. The second immediate feeling was dread, cold and silent, as tortured screams erupted from all around, and laughter; for the life of her she couldn't imagine who'd be laughing.
There was a considerate effort to focus on everything immediately in front of her, and she saw that down at the other end of the row a group of four had survived, although they had been thrown back just like her. To her shock there was soot and burn marks all over them. Desperately she looked over herself and noticed the same, but she felt no pain; all there was was cold, sweat, and the various noises that harassed her senses.
A prodding on her shoulder brought her around in a gasp, only to meet the pain-filled gaze of the boy who sat next to her.
"Call them," he told her hoarsely; it looked like he was gripping his arm. "The door."
She nodded and turned, motioning to the four. They all surprisingly took to her call rather quickly, despite the fact that one was apparently severely burned on the face, directly over his eye. The only girl in the party urged them forward, and all the pair could do is watch as they scrambled like animals towards them. Muffled cries meanwhile continued, along with the scraping of chairs and grunts as if there was a fight commencing. When the girl was very near them there was a loud screech that made them all freeze suddenly, someone cried, help, in agony and the next thing each of them registered was a blazing mass falling in between the two groups. In horror they stared as a lifeless body was consumed with flames. Without anymore need for convincing, the girl was forced roughly to turn around.
"Come on," the boy demanded without looking back. The girl looked desperately at the others, the girl leading them noticed the pair leaving and urged the others over the body. There was nothing any of them could do but run.
Once outside there were too many complicated things to take it. There students flocking every which way, most curious, others running away - hopefully survivors. The unaware ones stared in shock and fear.
Bomb. The word was repeated again and again, and it didn't take long for the other students to take in their injuries.


-----------

Can't go on. It's too late at night and I can't concentrate...This thing is horrible. It's full of run-ons. It's not going in the direction I wanted. Oh well...hm, prob just because I'm tired...because if I think about it I can see where it can go.

aHH Suddenly, I miss Loki. This attempt just seems like me trying to get back to him. haha.


p.s ANOTHER ESSAY DUE MONDAY HAVEN'T STARTED!! :O

Old Regrets Republished

I have just been reading some of my old posts under the tags, "regrets". It seems to me like I put cold-blue and my writing at a much higher regard than I do now. Finishing it is like an...impossible dream now, of sorts. There's only so much time in a day. I go to school, come home and eat dinner with Keane. We watch something together, play a video game maybe, or maybe I have an essay or homework to do, and then we go to sleep. The next day I may have work. No...there feels to be no time to write, not if I want to do everything else.

*deep sigh*

What am I waiting for...? I am just like Minnie and Hanson...

*chews knuckles*

OHH MAN HEADACHEE!! (I guess it doesn't help that Keane is playing drums on rockband...)

OK I can do this, I can DO THIS!!!

-.-


essayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

EsSAY

I'm so tired of writing essays!!!


...But it's my fault, really.

What would I rather be doing, essays, or solving mathematical equations?

Sigh...*opens up a word doc*.

dark night

The darkness swells up around me
I am dark, I am night.

These feelings, they overwhelm me
I am imbued, I am distilled...

...Dwelling in mystification...
...Breathing in contracted phrases...
...I fade away into non-existence...

Darkness...silence...the hum of a computer left on overnight.

Blinking in artificial light...although it is not far away.


-------------

Tired...another shit poem...........

Should be studying

Well, have a quiz today but woooooo waaaa, can't bring myself to study any more than my "quickly look over notes" plan that I have already implemented. Now it's count-down to doom, but the thing is only worth 5% anyway...

Really, despite that "mini" clock of doom I have about 10 LARGER clocks looming over me. 3 essays due by the end of the month (haven't started) and 4 exams coming up for next month.

*slight eye twitch*

Well, I'm not feeling all that sour for it. (At least for now). I know aunty rose is visiting soon so I'm sure I'll flip out when the time comes.

Nothing creative today..................oh wait, maybe...................

The wind blows intensely,
Pressing up against me,
Howling like a lone, sad wolf

The clouds loom above
Grey like sad eyes
Silent in the cold hue

But on earth it is beautiful
The people spread their wings
Like the birds come back for spring
The smells are wonderful

I take a moment; I take it in.



ARHGHH That was so bad. That was me trying to use "structure" in my poem...but whenever I try to use structure it comes out bad...rawr.......

my determination to NOT SLEEP

I have done it. I have drankeded the COFFFEEES. I will be awake all night now, whether or not I finish this essay soon.

Just wrapping up page 3. Still got FIVE more to go.

Oh...oh...ohhhhh... (This is me singing silently into the night. THAT'S RIGHT SILENTLY.)

Clearly the coffee has disabled my mental capacity to be "witty".

Did I mention it's a large DD? Oh yeah this baby'll last me alllll nighttt longggg.

(Yes I can clearly see the pervertednessness)

*looks around*

Mackenzie King ding a ling...

king's genius

“If some countries have too much history, we have too much geography.” - William Lyon Mackenzie King

HAAHAHA omfg so true.

*chews on knuckles*

Okay here I am just yapping away. I haven't started my essay yet. I haven't felt this much resistance to essay writing in a LONG TIME. Last time I did my history essay I was all GO GO GO GO GO GO GO and I made a mad dash for the finish line, just barely making it.

Is it the fact that I finished on time before that I presently am unworried?

Maybe I'm just tired of being so stressed out and depressed. I've been so ill lately, not only physically but mentally. I'm tired of drowning myself in the river. I want to be that free spirited person again who smiled even as the rapids approached. I think I am, it was one decisive moment - it always is. It was like waking up from a dream, or rather...returning after a very long time, as if, someone else was occupying my body before.

Regardless, I don't want others impressions of me to kill me. If anyone thinks I'm lazy, unreliable, and that I wont ever amount to anything then they are welcome to do so. Perhaps it is more to do with my own self-hating personality, and people don't actually think these things about me, but either way I want to be myself. Ashling said to me that it's a good thing I'm more worried, and taking things more seriously; although, I should try to find a balance between both my personalities. I'm not sure I can, but I don't want to start from the stressed out side. I want to start from the "easy going" me and then make my way to a happy medium.

*looks at open air*

Oh yeah I'm supposed to be WRITING...an essay right now? 8 pages you say?..........

Oh it's due tomorrow?

Ha.

I've determined that I think for the first time in my life I'm going to pull off one of those infamous "all nighters". I think I need coffee for that, though...

Anyway, point being that instead of killing myself with worry, I'll find a way and doooo it. Even if it means skipping more of my morning class...

Been hearing them geese. Welcome back, how was California? (lucky bastards)

i am not, but am, and will, and are being and ceasing forever

I am but a tiny insignificant voice in the mass,
Others are stronger than mine, they are more fierce and powerful than mine,
I am squished in between, I fall through the cracks, I cannot see the sky.

The world is a living, breathing, thing,
It festers unimaginable energies, impossible, indescribable, real:
Tragedies, comedies, romances, and those things in between.
I am a part of them yet not, and still can be on a micro level.

They drown me out.
I get swept aside.
But I am still a drop in the sea.

Seeing is believing, but what I believe isn't real,
And I'm okay with that.
Everything around me is a hoax of my own imagining,
But I already know that.
Insignificant as I am, this is my telling, spinning, of reality
So I can live with that.

Treasure me as someone who told you of secret things,
Private things that exist in lonely basements,
That manifest themselves in haunting ravines.
There are whispers merely for you and me,
There is a micro world of dreams.

fourth's the charm?

Is this really my fourth post today? I don't remember. It's now coming on 6 and it's been about another 3 hours since my last entry. I'm still on the first page.

Just so you know.

(lol)

What a waste of a day.....wow...haha

w.w. on the hillside

Would Walt Whitman be happy about me writing an essay on his work?
Because of you, but really because of myself, Whitman, I am unable to go to that empty bench on the white hilltop amongst the trees.
I am stuck with you, even though you claim to be connected to something beyond your written word.
I am stuck on you, and can't run and dance as I should. I must write of you, and me, and in being the "you" you describe attempt to connect and understand you through the text; through your text.
Curse you Whitman, you are dead, yet alive, and haunting me from beyond that window as I sit here writing of you, but not living as you live.

here again....

Ok so I'm back. It's currently 2.20pm, which is prob about 3 hrs from my previous post. *points down* I've written about 2 sentences for my essay. Woo. Shaw. If I don't hand it in for tomorrow I'll have to submit it to some sort of office to get a date stamp...sounds complicated and I don't want to. Goddammit I just need to start, just need to get a running start. Why are all the topics so complicated and yet so specific? How can I write five pages on the word "you"?

We'll see....

Another one....

No need to read this post - it's basically just me bitching about the topics that our prof gave us for an essay due tomorrow that I haven't even started. I can't do an essay unless it's presenting to me something that I can argue as a thesis. This one is strange, it's saying take diff. parts of the poem and analyze them individually. What does that mean? how exactly to I put that into a essay format?

That's all I have in me right now. We'll see how far this can go...

and now I invoke thy holy name...in vain

OMFG.

I finally, casually, out of CURIOUSITY, decided to look up my flicking grades on ROSI. Turns out my GPA is a crappy ass 2.27. I got a C in Canadian History last term - is this because of the tuts? Maybe... Even so, I find myself severelly distressed. I was expecting mass Bs and a few As. BUT NO. Highest mark so far is a B+. Apparently...I probably never checked my academic history for my first year because I got a D in TWO classes and this is coming as a shock to me. How am I supposed to become a teacher with marks like this? I thought, I need to do something with my life so I'm going to work towards a job. Big Mistake. Why am I relying on my so called 'smarts' in His/Lit to carry me into some sort of carrier in teaching? Holy crap how wrong I was. I thought, you know, I had this thing covered. Not exceptional but not bad either. And here I am swimming in a 2.27??! That is, basically, an average of 56%. No that is an average of 56%!!!!

Ugh...what am I going to do...what am I going to do...

I know...that Dickens shared a lot of the same views of Carlyle...in that they both believed in a sense of shared community and spirit. I know that Mark Twain made an effort to write as a realist instead of romanticism...I know that the Portugeuse were the first to really start sailing and exploring trade routes...and opened the race which eventually led to the discovery of the new world...I know that America was named after this explorer...person, named Amerigo Vespucci...and that they tried to amend that but couldn't because it stuck...

Anyway enough mumbling, my point is, what the crap is the use of it? No use...no use.

Holy fuck, I gotta stop feeling sorry for myself.