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March 26th, 2007
08:40 pm - "Austin"
Short story from English class. There could be so much put in there, and I think that one day soon, I'll take it and revamp it, maybe make it into a short novel, like, 100 pages maybe. But until then, here it is: "Austin"
I used to wonder if my mom was pretty. All the magazines and the tabloids said she was pretty. USA Today, Star, The National Enquirer, they all said she was gorgeous, and they said I looked just like her. That is, before she fell apart. Before I left and as long as I can remember, mom used to wander through the house like a ghost, from room to room, almost invisible. She always looked so sad with her unkempt hair, her worn bathrobe, and her unending mascara streaks that always seemed to stain her cheeks. The only time I would really see her emerge from her eternal depression was on crisp fall days. She would stand out on the back porch and bask in the color that streamed from the autumn leaves and the still lush green grass. Those days put color back in my mother’s eyes, life back into her pallid face. It was a day similar to this that changed my life for good. It was the day I met Austin. Crisp autumn days in Connecticut were always my favorites. My mother had loved them just like I did, and that scared me. I didn’t want to become like my mother. She had her heart cruelly stomped on by a beautiful businessman, and she never fully recovered. That beautiful businessman was my father. He slept around on mom. When she found out, she was crushed. She screamed and cried; he yelled back at her, called her an irrational fool. I was 7. It was shocking to me that a couple as perfect as my parents had seemed to be could fall apart so violently. My mother never left him. She just began to silently acknowledge that my father would never change, but she couldn’t leave because of me. After that day, I felt that I would never be able to let myself love anyone. I had never been very rational, and this seemed like my only solution, rational or not. I had lived in Connecticut for long enough that all autumn days had started to feel the same as the last. They faded together into a haze of cold school days. However, on this particular autumn day, things felt different. There was a very alive feeling in the air. The leaves caught the cold, clear, morning sun and seemed to light up the world with an entire new spectrum of color. Even at the end of the school day, everything was as bright as it had been in the morning, but tinted with the oranges and reds of the late afternoon sun. Flame-colored trees moved past the windows of my car as I pulled into the parking lot of the Waldbaums, ‘New Haven’s favorite grocery store!’ It wasn’t really New Haven’s favorite grocery store, but I liked it because it was generally deserted. The higher-class citizens of New Haven shunned the store because it was where all the Slops, or the farm kids of New Haven, worked. The Slops and the Townies never mixed. I was a townie because of my father’s business and my mom’s former debutante status. I thought the divisions were stupid; it seemed useless to me to shun people because of where they lived or how much they made annually. I threw on a pair of sunglasses before I walked into the store, just in case. My father would kill me if he knew I shopped where the Slops shopped. I tried to hurry through my shopping. I had to get home before my mom started her mid-afternoon drinking binge and potentially passed out somewhere dangerous. In the checkout line, I began to get impatient. I was shifting my weight from foot to foot, anxiously, and trying not to look at the cute checker who kept trying to catch my gaze. There were no other lines, so I was stuck waiting forever. The checker continued to attempt to catch my gaze, and I finally looked up at him as he looked at me and smiled. When I finally got up to him, he said nothing, but quietly wrote something on the back of my receipt. I snatched it from him hurriedly and walked out. “Have a nice day, Miss Abigail,” he called after me. I turned around to look back at him but he was already helping the next customer. I flipped over my receipt and read what he had written on it. There, in neat script, read “Hatchetts Point Lighthouse, 8 o’clock, don’t be late, love Austin.” I smiled to myself and started home to make dinner and get ready.
I found myself wondering what in the world I was doing, driving in the dark toward an abandoned lighthouse to meet someone I didn’t even really know. There was something about him, a relaxed but confident air that intrigued me, and I continued to drive on into the night. As I pulled up to the lighthouse, I saw Austin sitting in the back of his truck, his eyes glowing when they reflected the light from my headlights. He motioned for me to park next to him. “I figured you wouldn’t be late, but I never guessed you’d be this early,” he said, smirking, as I stepped out of the car. I looked down at my watch. It was 7:45. I guess I had been a little overeager. “How did you know my name?” I asked him. “We’ve only gone to the same school since we were still in diapers. I’m not surprised, though, you’re a Townie to the core,” he spat. “This is a total waste; I should’ve known you wouldn’t like me.” He turned to walk back to his car but I caught his elbow and turned him back around to face me. “Slow down, Austin. It was just a question, don’t get so defensive. Why do you think I’m here tonight?” When I had said that, he smiled and hopped into the back of his truck. “Congratulations, ma’am, you passed my test.” He grinned and patted the truck bed next to him, wanting me to sit next to him. I ignored his comment. “But why here?” I asked him. He sighed deeply and walked over to me, taking my hand and kissing the back of it. “That’s why. And because we can be alone without any of your townie friends or my slop friends seeing,” he said. He led me to the back of his truck, where he had a picnic blanket spread out and candles burning. We ate in silence, sharing glances and smiles, enjoying the calm night air and each other’s presence. When we finished eating, Austin started to pull me into a warm embrace. My thoughts went crazy; I barely knew him, I couldn’t lead him on. “I’ll be right back,” I told him, and I hurriedly got out of his truck and walked around toward the front of the lighthouse. With every step, a thousand new thoughts flooded my head, and I felt overwhelmed by them. I heard footsteps behind me as I slunk down against the lighthouse and broke down into tears. Almost immediately, Austin was sitting by my side. “What’s wrong?” he whispered to me. “I c-c-can’t lov-v-ve you,” I choked out through my tears. He pulled my head to my chest and let me cry on him. “Shh, it’s okay, I’m not asking you to,” I heard him say before I let myself calm down and sleep.
“Can’t you trust her to make her own decisions?!” There were two voices shouting at each other coming from somewhere, but I couldn’t make out who or where they were coming from. Opening my eyes, I looked around to find myself in my room, lying on my bed. I panicked and tried to remember how I had gotten here, but the last thing I remember was crying on Austin at the light house. “She’s MY daughter, and who are you to tell me about her?” the second voice yelled back. I recognized it as my father’s. I suddenly realized who the second voice was, and I bolted from my bed to see what was going on.
Austin was downstairs yelling at my father, who soon turned his rage on me when he saw me come rushing down the hall. “Abigail! Do you know this boy, this…Slop? Apparently, he brought you home, but didn’t want to leave you alone,” he yelled at me, struggling to get the last word out. “Yes, father, I do know him,” I mumbled, looking down at the floor. I didn’t want my father to hear my reply, but he did. The backside of his hand hit my right cheek and caught me off guard. I collapsed to the floor, hitting hard. A trickle of blood ran from my nose to the floor and Austin bent down to try to wipe drips of blood from my face. My father kicked his hand away, not wanting to touch his ‘unworthy’ body with more than his shoe. “If I EVER see you touching my daughter again, I’ll kill you,” he said quietly, but with a frightening bite to his voice. And with that, he turned on his heel and left. “Are you okay?” Austin whispered to me while he helped me to my feet. “I’m okay; he does this all the time.” There was a hint of sadness in my voice, wishing it weren’t true. “You had better go before he comes back.” “I don’t want to leave you with him,” he said. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. I looked up into his eyes, wanting to know if he as being sincere and the look he gave me cleared my mind of all doubt. Bending his head down to my ear, he whispered to me, “I know what it feels like not to be loved by one parent. My mom left my dad and I a long time ago. She never got physically abusive, but my dad and me still got the better portion of her verbal abuse. And by better, I mean the larger part. Never better.” With those few words, he let me go and was off. I immediately rushed upstairs and dove headlong into my pillows. Hugging one close to me, I cried into it, trying to think of something I could do. I wanted to see Austin. I tried to reason with myself, telling myself that my dad would kill both of us, and that, even if I did keep seeing him, I could never love him, because he would break my heart just like my dad did to my mother. It was no use, I was falling for him, and I could tell by everything he did that he would never hurt me. A thought crept across my mind and I couldn’t help but want to chase it. I could run away with Austin. I began to throw things into a suitcase, hurriedly, trying to pack as much stuff as I could. We might have to go far to escape my father’s wrath, but I was willing to drive as much as I could. I took all the money from my drawers and my piggy bank and quickly stuffed it into my wallet, tucked behind the photos. “Dad!” I called down the stairs as I began to write a note to my mother, “I’m going to Scarlet’s for the weekend!” I finished my note and quickly dressed. It wasn’t the smartest thing I had ever done. I took my mother’s car keys from her nightstand and replaced them with my note. Standing next to my mother’s bed, where she lay passed out and unaware, I paused to think of how things would be here if I left. My mother could finally leave my dad, and he could go happily to his adulterer ways. Mom could find someone who loves her for her and not her money. Things would be better for her. I heard my dad tromping upstairs, yelling my name, and I cut short my thinking and ran towards my car. When I reached the edge of town, where I thought Austin lived, I started to search for his beat up old truck. There, in front of a decrepit looking house was Austin, playing with a younger sibling in the front yard. As I drove up, he threw his baseball back to his sibling, and told him to go inside. I beckoned him with one finger and he walked slowly, cautiously, toward my car. “Run away with me,” I said, excitedly. “Are you crazy?” He eyed me suspiciously. I suddenly felt a twinge of guilt about taking him away from his family, but I pushed on anyway. “We can’t stay here and stay together,” I told him. “My father is probably just now realizing that I’m gone, and he’ll be after me sooner than you think. Just get in the car and let’s ride!” “I can’t, Abby, you understand that. I have a family to take care of. My dad already works two jobs, and so do I. I have responsibilities!” He didn’t want any part of my irrational behavior “What if I told you that you were the first person that I ever thought I could love, the first person that I ever even considered letting my guard down for? And I’ve only known you for less than two days, but I already feel like I’ve known you my entire life. If you don’t get in the car, you’ll have proved to me that all men do is let you down.” I took a deep breath and prepared to drive away. Surprisingly, I watched him look over his shoulder at the house and slowly open the door of the car and climb in. We drove for hours without stopping, heading for my grandparents house in California. From there, we would hop over to Catalina Island and live there. When we got tired, we parked at a rest stop and climbed on top of the car with blankets to watch the stars. “I can’t believe you came,” I said with a smile, laying my head back on his chest.” “I can’t believe you said that you might love me. I didn’t ask you to,” he replied. “I know you didn’t ask me to love you. I have a feeling that I already did before I met you.”
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08:18 pm - Something I've written
So since I couldn't find my short story I wrote for English, I decided to post this. long forgotten, on my myspace blog for, like, EVER. but here it is. It's caled "Peanut"
"Hey, Peanut, babe, get your butt downstairs!" He gave me about twenty seconds before he was up the stairs, sitting on the edge of my bed, trying to shake me awake. Those twenty seconds were DEFINITELY long enough for me to think, good lord, WHY this early? I covered my head with my pillow and mumbled something along the lines of 'get the hell out of here' before I felt him ripping my sheets from my bed. I buried myself deeper into my mattress, letting go of my pillow so I could cling to my bedposts. My efforts were in vain. As though I weighed even less than my sheets, he disengaged me from my bed and set me rather roughly down on the floor. I lay down on my back and tried to burrow into the pile of sheets on my floor, but it was no use. "You know I have NO problem with dressing you," he remarked. "You KNOW I've seen you in less than your underwear." Thank God he's my boyfriend, or else I would've tried to beat the living daylights out of him, right then and there, while I was lying on the floor in my skivvies, in the middle of a seriously massive hangover. What the hell did we get into last night?! Scanning the room, I saw a half empty bottle of Jose Cuervo, peels from about a half a dozen limes, and a salt shaker. Damn. That's why I felt so sticky. "Colllllll-taaaaaan," I groaned as he opened the blinds to let the bright, mid-morning sun shine into my room, falling on my very pale skin, making it glow in an eerie sort of way. I covered my eyes with my hand, and then decided to pull my sheets over me to cover myself with. Bad idea. I yanked the sheets directly out from under me, sending me rolling a bit, but hitting the floor with a thud. I sat myself up (with some effort) and attempted standing. Another bad idea. I couldn't get enough upward momentum to counter the forward motion that I had going, and I tumbled over, rolling on my side onto Coltans feet. I could hear him laughing as he watched me, and I rubbed my eyes with my hands and looked up at him. He bent down and scooped me up (saving me from any further embarrassment), carried me into the bathroom, and sat me down on the toilet. I watched as he started to fill the tub, and then pulled his tank top over his head, revealing part of the body that he spent long hours at the gym for. I somehow stood myself up and walked over to kiss him, but he met me halfway, knowing exactly what I wanted. Yeah, baby. Sexy, solid, and all mine. He tugged at the bottom of my shirt, like he wanted it off me, and I giggled a little bit. I noticed that he had wrapped his arms around me and was holding me upright. I finally broke the kiss, gasping for air. Damn, I love that boy. He left his arms wrapped around me, making sure I didn't fall, but he loosened his grip a little. I reached between his body and mine and pulled the bottom of my shirt over my head. I knew what he wanted, of course I did. Treading lightly in virgin territory (literally AND figuratively) is NOT something I'm good at. The first time I was introduced to alcohol, when I was about 13, mind you, I drank until I threw up. Conveniently for me, there was no stomach pumping involved, just waking up after a very long night with a massive hangover, leaning over the toilet bowl. Obviously not the best way to start, but it's been like that in everything I do. Not the waking up leaning over the toilet bowl part, more of the throwing myself into new things. My dad used to say that the only way to experience life was to throw yourself headlong into it and pray to God that you don't die. Sad that it's his life's philosophy was pretty much the thing that killed him. After that, mom pretty much stopped trying new things, dove deeper into the Bible, and tried to put more restrictions on me. That was almost 10 years ago. I had just turned 7. Ever since then, I've tried everything that I could, but mostly things that disobeyed my mother's rules or pissed her off the most. Now what was I talking about? Oh yeah. I knew what he wanted, but I wasn't going to give it to him. Yeah, I know, 17 years old and I still haven't had sex yet. Almost like it's totally taboo, unless you're Mormon or Amish or something, exactly what I was running from. I've got the tattoos, the piercings, the dyed hair, the wardrobe, everything to classify me as a punk rocker, art school student, raver, party girl, you name it and I've been labeled it. But I know what you're thinking. What kind of a self-proclaimed "bad ass" am I if I still haven't slept with anyone? Yeah, I get that a lot. First of all, I'm NOT going to sleep with someone who still calls me "Peanut," and I'm not the cheating type, so it's him or nothing. Second, I'm really not ready yet. As corny as it sounds, I want it to be special. I don't mean candles and cheesy homemade soundtrack and red satin sheets and all that good stuff, I just want it to be with someone who I really love, not someone who I get so trashed with that we do body shots until I black out. Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass.
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June 17th, 2006
08:09 pm - Rent
honestly. i quit. i just can't do this anymore. i can't be me.
it's ruining me.
bright eyes hits straight to my soul. rips me apart because it's everything i wish i could say.
and it makes me want to let go.
i just can't go on being me. living my lie. i'm so sick of people.
i want them all to go away.
i don't wanna watch Evita anymore.
i just don't care enough to watch it.
i finished watching RENT a while ago.
god. that kills me every time.
i love mimi. i want to be her.
so i can find my roger
so someone can save me.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/classic/sad.gif) depressed
Current Music: Bright Eyes
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03:47 pm - i can't stand it anymore
I HATE HIM!! I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM!!!!!
he makes me want to scream every single bad word that i know at the top of my lungs.
and yet...i don't know.
he's really starting to bug me. it's getting really frustrating.
i've been feeling totally crappy lately. like. honestly it's killer. i feel like i no longer have a soul. and it's really bringing me down.
and i go to him and he's all like "oh. just do this and this and this and you'll feel better."
but it's not that i want to feel better. i want him to listen. and say that he's sorry. and NOT try to make me feel better.
i can and will feel better on my dammit.
i have to work my way through things. it's like this thing i read in Anthony Rapp's book Without You
(and i'm paraphrasing)
when you hurt. when there's tragedy. you have to grieve. your heart's going to crack open. you just have to let it. don't try to stop it. live through it.
and that's what i'm trying to do. i'm not trying to do some quick fix. i want to grieve. i want to keep crying until i can't cry anymore. i've got a long way to go before i heal. but i'm looking forward to it. it makes it so much easier to move on later when all the grieving is behind you. when you've cried all that you can cry. when you're finally done hurting. and you can just pick up everything and move on. it's so much easier than trying to put on a happy face. even temporarily.
and i'm going to see my birdy with my whore and whorette. yes. that is my sister and her boyfriend. and no one else can say ANYTHING bad about them. even brandon. especially brandon.
so you can all go to hell.
x's and o's
jb
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/classic/confused.gif) confused
Current Music: RENT!!!!!!! Love Heals. it kills me every time
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June 5th, 2006
08:18 pm - so flippy
i'm quite enjoying the knowledge that only a select few people actually read this. and less people actually care. i mean. there's no one who checks this on a regular basis. so i'm pretty much safe to say a few things.
...and if i ever DO want anyone to read this. i'll tell them. or email them. or whatever.
but i do have to be careful now. because my dad is right there. sitting there. in that spot that he KNOWS i hate people sitting in. and every once in a while. he just tips his head back. so maybe i should find a sight that says "FUCK" in giant letters at the top of the page. just to flip to when he looks away. and eventually just leave it there.
boy that would be the shit. cuz i don't care what he thinks.
i'm just too pissed off right now.
but now to the goods.
i've been going through these oddly strange moods since mikey's...unfortunate passing. i mean. it's been what? two weeks? and i'm still being freaky about it. expecially when no one's around. i still cry. and i think i'm going to keep crying. until someone tells me that it's okay. that i don't have to cry anymore. and they can make all my fears. my worries. my regrets. my pain disappear.
especially on a day like today. i freaked out over my bio test. of course. i waited until after the test to do it. and then. i didn't freak out for birdie auditions. until after. and then i fucked my dance audition. like. honestly. it was horrible. i'm not suprised i didn't get a call-back.
and i realize that i've been totally neglectful of some of my closest friends. i mean. i haven't talked good and long with brandon in, like, a week. and if you're reading this right now, i'm so sorry. we need to talk. email me (back). i'm just trying to run from everything. i get like this when i'm scared and hurt. i run from the people who could either help me or hurt me. and i'm not sure which he could do. could he help me feel a bit better? or could he tear me up inside. and everytime he talks to me. it hurts. it feels like i'm lying to him for attention. and that i'm just some attention grabbing skank. no better than certain people. and that i don't really care about him. i just like that he gives me attention. and i am a horrible person. and more selfish than he thinks even HE is. and it makes me remember when we were kinda talking a while ago and i really liked him and he would say we should just run off to some deserted island or something and blah blah blah...and now i don't think i could ever do that. because you put 2 selfish people together. something's gotta give...and i'm the horrible one...
but it makes me want to just scream and cry. and throw things. becaust this proves what i've known forever.
i'm not good at anything
and if you want to prove me wrong. be my guest. i will happily and easily prove YOU wrong.
but mostly. i want to take my anger out on my parents. i'm just filled with rage and hatred. and enmity. can't forget enmity. all towards them. just channeled at them.
they don't understand me. i would have no problem with that. except for the fact that they don't try to. they just make fun of me. and treat me horribly. and they say i don't do this, or i do this and i am disrespectful. but they started it.
and i blame them for mikey. they could've done more. or at least waited for me to get home. i wanted to see him. i wanted to say goodbye. and every goddamn day that passes. i feel that pain. i feel his pain. the slow death. the just wanting to have people love him before he dies. the wanting a loving family and just wanting to protect them.
i've cried for hours. probably days total. i've cried until i couldn't cry anymore. i've cried when i thought i didn't hurt anymore.
aw shit. i'm gonna finish this when the letters stop running together and i can see straight.
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June 1st, 2006
08:43 pm - what i can't say
i wonder lots of things. some are profound. some silly.
i wonder why people talk to me. i'm psycho chickto the ten kajillionth power. aren't i? i'm flippant. nosy. loud. obnoxious. sometimes crass. not feminine at all. not demure. kind of lame. and quirky.
i wonder why i'm always friend-girl. never girlfriend. it's like i'm the girl that guys are friends with and talk to. but would never really go out with.
i wonder why i've been put through so much. only to come out with so little. it's stripping away my soul. piece by piece. i'm wasting away. and no one seems to notice.
i wonder why commas exist. they bother me. i use them a lot. but i don't like them.
i wonder when my real parents will show up and say "hey. we switched babies at the hospital. i want my kid back. yeah. the cute one. no. not the one with the skanky eyeliner." and they'll take me away. somewhere better. anywhere but here.
i wonder when i'll find that special someone. everyone does.
i wonder what the hell is wrong with me. for one thing. i wonder about stupid things like d)all of the above. i wish i could die. but i know i don't have the guts to kill myself. i hate my family. no one hates their family. i mean. it's just not right.
but most of all. i wonder if each sin has a stain. and why everyone else can see it. just not me. can everyone see the marks. the marks made from every bad thing i've ever done. and do all the swear words i've ever uttered. do they stain my lips with just a bright red. every time. that everyone can see it.
and all the mormons. they stay away from me. except in church. when they HAVE to be nice. because there are people around. except for keenan. he knows my secret.
wanna know my secret. promise not to tell. i don't want to be a mormon. and you know what. neither does he. keenan is like my godsend. great guy. just like me. and he can cook. but i'm not his type.
but anyways...my birthday is coming up. no one will remember. i shouldn't expect anything. it's really on the 23rd. but i want to celebrate it in school on the 20th.
so if any of you who read this no one remember. i like stuffed animals. small ones. and hand made t-shirts size large. and flowers are nice daisies and carnations are pretty. and random junk packs of pretty playing cards. g.i.joes. duct tape. small toy cars. just please don't get me food. i don't really want food. i don't care too much. maybe get together with some of my other friends and make me a gift. or get something cute. i don't care.
i mean. i really don't need anything. but it's nice to be remembered.
it should take you fourseconds to walk through that door
i'll give you two.
iloveyouandidon'twantyoutoforgetme
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo's &love[much];
jb
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/classic/blah.gif) blank
Current Music: Show Tunes
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May 28th, 2006
07:24 pm - something hurts...
...and i'm having a hard time figuring out what is is.
it's not my brain. i know what it feels like when my brain hurts. and i haven't thought too much today.
it's not my legs. i know what my legs feel like when they hurt.
ditto with my arms.
it's somewhere in my chest cavity. with all my internal organs and junk.
not my lungs. even though god only knows what kind of shit has settled in there. because i'm fucking sick. and it feels horrible.
...expecially because i have to take care of myself.
not my stomach. i haven't deprived myself of food today. bad jess. you're too fat. good jess. you're horrible okay the way you are. and i haven't gorged myself, either.
not my diaphragm. yes, boys and girlies. my die-uh-frag-gum. that's how i say it. just had to include it.
not my liver. gall bladder. spleen. kidneys. large intestine. small intestine. any of those other organs. cuz then there would be something seriously wrong.
so what could it be that hurts so bad?
is it what i think it is?
IT IS! Ladies and Gents, Jessica DOES have a heart! *gasps of shock and amazement*
scary, tisn't it?
it makes it worse that it hurts so bad...but there's nothing i can do about that.
xoxoxoxo's anyway.
jb
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May 27th, 2006
09:00 pm - what am i still doing?
i've started a dozen emails...
at least.
i want him to know. i wish that he could just read my thoughts.
then i wouldn't have to find the words to say the most awkward thing ever.
so i can say it here. no one reads this, so it's not like it matters.
it's the only way i CAN say anything.
i just can't spit the words out. i can't bring myself to say it.
because then. it might actually be real. and it might not be a sad dream that i'm trying to avoid.
because then. it might just hurt more. when i've tried everything i can bring myself to do to numb the pain.
because then. i might not be able to deal with it on my own. because that's what i am. on my own.
because then. i might have to admit that i can't do it on my own. that i need someone's help.
it makes me want to
kick
punch
throw something
run
scream
cry
die
all so i can feel better. the latter to reconnect.
the words that i can't say. the words that might bring me out of my dream. the words i don't want to exist.
my dog is gone.
my one oldest friend. my one true confidante.
he's dead. and there's nothing i can do about it.
so there. now you know. now you ALL know.
don't tell me you're sorry. i don't need your pity.
don't give me a hug. i don't want your touch.
don't say anything. i don't want to hear it.
don't let me breathe. it makes it hurt worse.
.every.inhale.
.every.exhale.
.every.second.
no love. no feeling. just overwhelming saddness. and terror. i've exposed myself. now i'm vulnerable.
goddamnit.
not who i was. not who i am. never will be again.
Current Mood: depressed
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07:19 pm - "drunk and i'm feeling down..."
you papa roach fans know what's coming next, right?
"and i just want to be alone, pissed 'cause you came around, why don't you just go home..."
seems bitter, doesn't it?
bitter.
cynical.
hate-filled.
"emo".
whiny.
anti-social.
problematic.
worrying.
say what you want. i don't care anymore. you think that after almost 15 years of your fucking abuse, you talking behind my back, telling me i'm never gonna make it, that i'm not worth anything, you doing everything you can to make me feel awkward, unloved, anything you could do to keep the upper hand, which you never had in the first place.
you think that after all that that i can't ignore you and all the horrible things you say?
think again.
everytime my mouse move, it squeaks.
makes my mom hella mad.
so i'm just gonna sit here and click around a lot, just to make my mouse move.
maybe she'll take the hint and just leave already.
so ladies and germs...do you really want to stick around and read the anti-social ravings of a so-called "emo" looney?
of course you don't.
...so then why are you still here?
because my little dearies, as one ex once put it, "*b* and her psychotic ranting is like a drug...once you get a taste, you're hooked..."
...of course, that boy was a no-good-dirty-rotten-cheating-skank-man-whore and should never be trusted again, boys and girlies.
so why the hell did i trust him in the first place?
A: because words can blur my vision, compliments can nearly blind me, and poetry...god, THAT will almost kill me.
understand now, my pet? of course not. ...but that's not the point.
the point is...
i want to be alone, but my goddamn house is filled with too many goddamn people.
the one i loathe the most (it's a 3-way tie) is sitting directly behind me.
flipping through her magazine.
trying not to let me know that she's checking my screen.
every.
ten.
seconds.
but she's too transparent. generally, she treats me like a heathen. or a whore. like someone other than her child. like she can't be around me.
and yet...she tries to win my love.
and turn it all back on me and say that i hate her.
...which was totally untrue.
until she started her bitchiness about me hating her and all that total bullshit.
the fact that she chooses to verbally defecate on anything and everything that i hold dear to me...things that she seems to hold in contempt.
...now that's another story, lords and ladies...
but hey. she lets me survive here. i gotta be grateful for that.
i want to run out of the house.
find someone. anyone. who will just take me and let me cry on their shoulder.
but the one person i know WOULDN'T do that...
...is the one that i feel like running to.
i'll never fully understand it.
they'll never know how i feel. how i feel like i want to throw myself in front of every car. off of every building.
just so i can stop feeling.
they'll never know why i feel this way. they've never been there. never seen the things i've seen. never had the same things happen to them. so they'll never know why i feel the way i feel.
and it makes me wonder...
...but you don't need to know that.
so i have to decide what i want to do. do i want to sit and waste away into nothing. or do i get up and take charge. find someone who's NOT afraid to love me.
i'll dare them. i'll dare them to love me. just because i can.
and they'll keep me safe. never let me hurt again.
.my.only.hope.
.your.only.dream.
all i can do is stop thinking.
and start living.
iloveyoutooterriblymuchanditstearingmeupinside.
xoxoxoxo's anyway. thanks for reading. you make me feel loved.
jb
Current Mood: cold, sleepy, and unhappy
Current Music: nothing
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May 26th, 2006
08:56 pm - just a question...
does fake tanning make you a whore?
i've seen it happen to so many people. they're cool, and then they tan and they get all stupid.
it smells like shit, too. i had to use SO much scented lotion to get the smell out.
but lets just say that i wasn't putting on the self-tanning stuff willingly. it wasn't my idea.
but why do i have sudden stupid urges. like to put on shorts. and a string bikini. or to put some more self-tanning lotion on. because GOD KNOWS i'm not orange enough already.
it doesn't even look real.
and for any of you trying to flush the image of me in a string bikin OUT of your head, i apologize.
i also wonder what could make me so sad. i mean, am i THAT shallow where the idea of not having a boyfriend makes me depressed? i hate being single, but i'm not THAT dependent on someone else. or pathetic. and before you say "you're mormon, you can't date until you're 16 anyway," need i direct your attention to the blog below this one? mmkay huns, figure it out.
i have friends. i don't know if i can really trust them too much or anything. i can't believe all that they say. especially because some of them have betrayed me. some haven't earned my trust yet. some of them i believe, and i love them for that.
but i don't know WHAT my problem is. but i don't wanna talk about it. most of it, at least.
i don't want your pity. i don't need your sympathy. if i WANTED you to know, i would've told you about it by now.
but i haven't, have i?
mmkay, huns. here's to hoping that you all understand. [i'll drink to that.]
xoxoxoxoxoxo anyway.
jb
Current Mood: blah
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07:09 pm - so.
did you really expect me to stay away for this long?
well, i've been busy, so you can take any of your expectations of me, any pre-made, pre-packaged judgements that are so generic and fake and FALSE that it's not even funny and you can shove them up your...
okay, b, you gotta stop there. stop swearing, stop being a bad person. just because you don't want to be mormon anymore doesn't mean that you gotta suddenly be a little hellion and totally rebel...actually, to get it through to your parents, you might have to.
wondering what i'm talking about? thought so, but i'm going to explain anyway.
when i was little, i LOVED being mormon. the only thing i wanted to do was be baptized...maybe because they glorified it through song...i don't really understand it.
but as i've gotten older, i've kind of moved away from the gospel. i guess...i don't know. i still go to church. i still get up at 5 o-fucking-clock in the morning to go to seminary. and my seminary teacher, and my sunday school teacher and all of those other church people say that i have a great mind, and i really GRASP all of this stuff. but i have the ability to remember and recall stuff...and interpret everything. so i know all the answers.
but that's it. i believe some of it. actually, i believe that all of it actually HAPPENED.
but i just...can't bring myself to worship a God who lets horrible things happen to you. does horrible things to you. takes away all of the joy in your life. steals away something or someone so dear to your heart. and then expect you to turn to him for comfort. for strength. to make it go away.
and christianity is a joke. mose of them believe the same things...they have the same bible. so how is it that they can interperet it all so differently. and they create so much contention between themselves. it's lutherans against methodists against presbyterians against episcopalians against catholics (in a league of their own) against mormons (another league) against evangelists against baptists against god only knows who else.
and it's all shit. i think they're all shitting themselves.
but god ALSO only knows that i'm more into the ideas of karma. and chi. and self-regulation. and maybe destiny. or fate. or something guiding my life that was pre-determined before i was born.
i have my own beliefs. i don't need someone to dictate to me what i believe. i don't need someone to tell me when to pray. when to do something. how to do something. or why. i don't want someone to make me go to sacrament. or to worship or whatever. i don't want to have anything shoved down my throat.
i worship how I think is right. and that's how i do things.
okay, b, relax, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. it's not worth it.
nothing is worth it anymore. i mean. i'm barely hanging on to my friends. they worry about me. i don't have much left. i don't have love. i don't have anything worth living for.
maybe i should stop being so goddamn "emo". i'll just go slit my wrists in a corner. and be alone. and write crappy poetry. in my own blood. just before i die. and i'll leave a long note. telling no one to miss me. cuz it's not like they will anyway.
right. i'm THAT special that someone MIGHT possibly miss me.
why the fuck do i talk like that. i KNOW people will miss me. why do i have to be so goddamn selfish and attention-grubbing...stupid jess.
emo is for people who are depressed. so maybe it is for you.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo...
love you anyway. even if no one loves me back.
this doesn't even BEGIN to touch on what i'm feeling right now.
oh well. it's all a waste anyway, no one will read this, no one will care.
jb
Current Mood: blah
Current Music: nothing. i'm watching Sandlot 2
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April 18th, 2006
06:46 pm - dinner for one...?
so this was slightly awkward. i like being alone, but today, i didn't relish the silence. i have been reading a lot this week, and that's usually a bad sign. when i start to read a lot, it generally means that i have a HUGE problem, or something big on my mind that i need to think through, and i'd rather retreat into a world that's NOT mine, so maybe, for a little while, i can live vicariously through someone who DOES have somewhat of a life. or sometimes it just means that i still have a large problem, or something on my mind, but i just want something to take it off my mind. as much as i love my friends, i have a hard time talking to them, because i find it hard to explain my situation. but anyways, so yeah, lots of reading.
well, tonight, my mom, dad, and sister had something to do, so i had dinner by myself. it felt extrememly awkward. and all the reading of the love stories lately made it worse. i mean, it just felt like i should be SHARING the moment, and the silence, and just the...everything.
but the silence did give me time to think, and i decided something today. i give up. on all this shit about brandon. we're friends, and i need to get over it. as much as he's the kind of person i actually NEED, he's not what i want. i WANT someone who will always encourage me, and will be there for me, and isn't afraid (or would actually LIKE) to hold me, and make sure i'm close to him, just because he cares about me THAT much, and because he'll know that i want something sweetly physical, not sexually physical, and because he'll know me and that i like that kind of holding-hands-hugs-from-behind-general-closeness stuff. so that's it. as much as i care about brandon, we're friends, and that's it.
so there...anyone got a plan? cuz it's harder that it seems. but anyways, i'm going to find someone else. i think that i know...but i'm still looking... ;)
xoxoxo times a bajillion
♥♥♥jb
Current Mood: blank
Current Music: nothing, watching Jeopardy
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April 17th, 2006
05:32 pm - MY epiphany
so, i'm sitting here. listening to my new Dashboard CD, that's totally like my baby, i never let it out of my sight. wanting to watch the DVD that it came with...scratch that. listening to my new Dashboard CD, that's totally like my baby, i never let it out of my sight. wanting to watch the DVD that it came with...WATCHING the DVD that came with it. just chilling. smelling the muffin-y goodness coming from the kitchen. loving the feeling of the carpet under my feet...meaning NO socks. my computer area is a "no sock zone". and a "no shoe zone" (i violently detest wearing shoes and socks). and i'm just kind of pondering my seminar situation. and it's just kinda hit me.
i NEED him, but i can't let myself need him. it will wreck me if i think about him as much as i do. and i don't want him to want/need/care about me, because that will wreck me, too. i really hate being in this situation, expecially because this person is amazingly wonderful, and i like him SO much, but i don't want y'all to get the wrong idea. we're JUST FRIENDS...at least, that's what HE wants us to be. i don't wanna wreck our friendship, but personally, i would rather just try something. i mean, it's not like we would get totally serious, or serious at all, we're freaking teenagers!!! i just want someone to give a damn, and it feels awkward when we're as close as we are and we're NOT dating or in love or anything. i just want a hand to hold, and a warm body to hug when i'm totally upset and everything. but maybe i'll find it in someone else, because my situation with him is hopeless like that.
but whatever. i'll live. i just hope that MAYBE he can finally be like, hey, maybe i DO want a girlfriend...maybe THAT'S what i need...
who cares...
anyways.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo times a bajillion.
♥♥♥♥♥bella
Current Location: my sock/shoe free zone
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/classic/smile.gif) complacent
Current Music: Dashboard
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April 16th, 2006
09:52 am - i give up
as excited as i am that brandon is FINALLY home (y'all, longest 2 weeks), not having him around to help me through EVERY TINY FUCKING THING that i overreact about made me realize a couple things. but my ultimate final decision: i give up. on trying to be who i'm not. on music. on soccer. on my passions. on trying to have fun. on caring. on LOVE. on LIFE. it all seems useless to me. so does trying to explain why. but i'll try anyway.
i hate that everyone around me is just pairing off like it's goddamn Noah's Ark. everyone is finding that special someone, and in all but one case that i can think of, it won't last. i think alice and jack will last. i really do. maybe that's just because she's one of my best friends and i'm just shitting myself because i care about her so damn much and because i don't want to see her sad. i don't know. but i think they can last for a while, even if it DOES eventually end. but i'm gonna try and help them if they need it. but everyone else...i mean, we're teenagers. i'm contradicting myself when i say this, but we're not supposed to be thinking about love. we're supposed to be having fun. i mean, if you DO fall in love, and it's that feeling, and you didn't WANT to fall in love, you just met someone and BAM! it happened, then you really can't help it, but we're getting ourselves in too deep here.
and yes. i meant to contradict myself. and here's why:
i think love is great. and i'm never really LOOKING for it, i just like to take advantage of it when it happens. but this time, it's gotten me into a fair amount of shit. y'all know about the whole brandon thing. it's in the blog below this one. but it's really messed me up. i mean, i care about him, he's like my brother. but i ALWAYS care TOO much about people, because they become a huge part of my life for some reason or another. so for me, caring about someone is like a drug. once i start, i can't stop, no matter how much i need to. i don't even remember where i was going with this. fuck it.
my life is a mess. i wish i could just say goodbye and push some button that would annihilate me, but there are too many people who care about me that would NEVER let me do that.
b
Current Mood: depressed
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April 8th, 2006
10:29 am - what am i supposed to call this?
expecially if i can't even figure out what i'm going to do about everything. i have to put a warning on this. i'm going to spew. a lot. and if you don't want to hear it (a lot of it will probably involve brandon), or you get halfway through this and you think i'm wrong, or anything negative, or whatever, stop reading and go away. i don't want to hear any of your crap today. i really don't, i don't need it, and i will delete comments that piss me off and if you piss me off bad enough, then i will block you. got it? mmkay, hun's, where to start. how bout somewhere around the beginning?
i hate my life. i hate it when people tell me what to do with my life and my time. it's like, hey, y'all, live your own fuckin life. i don't care if you don't have one, don't live vicariously through me. most days, unless you're one of my close friends, i really don't care that you're alive. i mean, yes, i acknowledge you're alive, but you bother me. people bother me. i don't know why, but i've never had a huge tolerance for stupidity, or clones. especially those ones who act like they're so about being an individual but they're exactly like every other "individual." it makes me want to just shred all my clothes and create something TOTALLY original, not caring whether people like it or not, and just wear it to school. but, of course, SOMEONE will like it, and it'll become a "trend" with some group of people, however small. but that's just a pet peeve, i don't care too much about that. but i tend to push peple away a lot. i don't really do it intentionally, i mean, i have my very very close friends who i love more than life itself (you know who you are), and i think they know me better than i know myself. and those are the people that somehow magically were able to strip away all these layers to get to know the real me. i still wonder how they did it, and it kind of scares me, because i hardly ever let anyone in. i mean, i'm so scared of getting hurt that i don't ever want to let anyone in. but these few really stuck by me, and they've become almost my life support, i have no idea what i would do without them. and it scares me that they want to know the real me. i mean, yeah, i've wanted to know all of them, like, as soon as i met them, i was like, oh my gosh, i know this person is going to help me later. all except for one of them. and that special person was brandon.
i know, i talk about him a lot, but let me explain. when i first met him, i didn't even know if i really WANTED to know him, just because he's this good boy in everything, and yeah, he was funny, and cute, but as soon as i met him, i knew he was strong in what he believed, like i could just sense it, and i didn't want to get in the way, because tess liked him. but i talked to him. at the moment it seemed kinda against my better judgement, and i still look back and say if i hadn't been so stupid, none of this would've happened. and sometimes i think maybe it would've been better. but that's in the past and i can't change that. so anyways, we talked. i kinda started to crush on him. i mean, he was sweet, and he was cute, and he could actually carry on an intelligent conversation. i mean, for me, with all that's happened to me, it was pretty much the best i would do at the time. and i had gotten hurt. bad. by stupid will. so i didn't want to start to care about someone again, just because i didn't want to end up getting hurt (which, actually, i did). but we kept talking. and we found out that we had a lot in common. and i had a genuine crush on him. and i told tess. bad idea, bud. she flipped out kinda, she got mad at me at least. but there was something inside of me that kept saying you're not good enough for him, why is he even talk to you, you're so fat/stupid/ugly/etc. it's that voice that i wrestle with every day. but anyways, the more time i spent with him in the mornings before tess's math class, and the more i talked to him, the more i like him, and the more i trusted him. he made me feel really comfortable being around him, and i told him stuff i don't normally tell anyone. like, when i would get all depressed, he would be there, and he made me feel better. mostly cuz i could tell he genuinely cared. i mean, we connected. and things happened, we talked about stuff, more things happened. then, something bad happened. and i wanted to run away, and i was going to. but he talked me out of it. but he used a phrase that i will always remember, "i don't know why i care about you so much, but i do" and he cared about my future and he didn't want to see me throw my life away. so stuff happened after that, we talked that to death. i mean, i wanted something, he cared, but he didn't want to ruin what we had/have, but in a way, he kinda did. i mean, we've been infinately closer since then. and that kind of thing has come up sicne then, and we've decided that we really like each other, we really care, but nothing's gonna happen. but i don't think there's a day that's gone by where i haven't wished that something would've happened. i've needed him a lot, i mean, he's my rock. he's always there, and he wants the best for me, and he genuinely cares about me. but that scares me shitless.
i've been hurt by guys before. really, and i don't want that to happen again. if you really care to know the full story, message me, but i don't want to get into it again. but i can't really help being cynical. he broke my heart, i thought he cared, it was a huge let down. but anyways. i don't know what i'm doing. i think i love him. but i don't know. when he's sad, i feel like it's happening to me, and i just feel so connected to me, and i really care about him. but i'm not afraid to call him out. but i think he's perfect, expecially because of his faults, because they make him who he is. but i'm scared. i'm scared because i let him get so close to me. i'm scared because i want to be with him, but i don't want to get hurt. i'm scared because i think i love him, but i don't think i'm worthy of HIS love. i'm scared because i want something to happen, but if something ever does, i'm scared because i don't want to end up hurting one of my closest friends. i'm scared because i have no help in this. i'm scared because...well...idk. i guess i just want him to really care, and i want him to love me, and i want him to be there for me and i'm scared because i don't think he really does. and i'm scared because of so many other things, and i just need him back. i want him to be here with me, and i want him to hold me, and i want him to be here to tell me that things will be okay, and that he needs me, so i can feel like someone special does. and i want to be there for him. and i'm scared that if we do start something, than it'll turn out bad somehow, because it's inevitable, right? i mean, people don't meet their sweethearts in high school anymore, do they? but someone like me, with someone like him...i mean, he's totally amazingly wonderful, and i'm just me. i'm moody, i get pissy easy, i'm hard to handle. and eventually, we'd break up. and one of us (or both) would be sad. and things wouldn't be the same. but i'm worried that part of me only wants him because it would get ariel off of him, or it would give me/him a reason to make ariel go away or something. but that's horrible. and it's not like anything will happen anyway, no matter how much i think about it, or how much i need him on a regular basis (which i know is rather pathetic), and all this stuff. don't get me wrong, i love him, but i know his (and my) limitations, and i know when we're just shitting ourselves, and i know that nothing will happen, just because he (and kind of i) wants to just stay friends, and i respect that.
so i don't know anymore. i mean, i'm SUPPOSED to be this good little mormon girl, and i'm SUPPOSED to wait until i'm 16, but i don't like being mormon. i feel nothing. i mean, everyoe around me is just like, oh, it's this big thing, and i have this strong testimony, and i feel like it's putting too much pressure on me to have this experience. so i don't know anymore. i really don't like organized religion. i mean, all jesus wanted us to do was to try to live like him. so why do all religions have all of these rules and regulations and everything? and then those people who don't act like they're really all religious and stuff, but they go to church on sunday and say their hallelujah's and raise their hands up to jesus and sip their communion wine...it just baffles me.
maybe i'm turning into brandon. not liking organized religion, and i just feel like i want to be away from everyone. like, i feel antisocial, and i want to go and curl up in my room and just be alone. because when i'm alone, i don't have to worry about anyone else, but inveitabley, i do. because my LIFE is other people. i don't care enough about my own life to put it ahead of my friends. and i just want to curl up under piles of blankets, because maybe i'll be able to make it feel like someone is actually there for me. i want someone to be there to hold me when i need them to, but they're not. but the warmth of a thousand blankets would never be the same as one hug from someone very special.
i still have so much to say, but i've already spent almost 2 hours on this, so i think i'll just finish for now.
i love y'all, those of you who got this far. expecially you, allie, you're amazingly wonderful, and i love you SO much, you're great.
♥♥bella
Current Mood: restless
Current Music: a bunch of my dif stuff, like Ne-Yo and Panic!
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March 27th, 2006
06:55 pm - The difference between girls and guys camps
Okay, so at church, we have this thing for the young womens that we all do. It's this summer camp for a couple days out at ensign ranch, just for the girls. I gave up on it after my second year just because it was stupid, but this year, my 4th year, I'm supposed to be going on the 4th year hike. I love hiking. But I don't like the people in my year. They piss me off to no end, mostly because I really don't fit with them. They're all these prissy girly-girls, and I'm, well...not. And a good portion of them are all these skinny girls that complain about being "fat" when they're perfectly fine. It makes me mad. Plus, they're all just strange and retarded at the same time.
Last year, I was at Camp Sealth out in Kiwanis, with the teepees, and as close to roughing it as you can get at a summer camp where you have a lodge. I was the only girl in my cabin. 1 out of 5 people, the other 4 were boys, plus our counselors. On our overnight, I joked that I didn't really feel like a girl anymore because I had spent 7 days with guys, and we were all really good friends, and it was just awesome. Thinking about this kind of made me realize the differences between girls camps and guys camps, or even girl cabins and guy cabins (or jsut girl groups and guy groups, but i'm trying to stick with the camp theme). So here they are.
The 3 main differences between girl and guys groups/cabins/camps.
1. Girl cabins talk about girly things. May seem simple, but it's not. They may tell stories, they may relay phone conversations or instant messages, but these are usually conversations formed by not a lot of complete sentences. If you choose to listen to these, there are a lot of "yeah"s "like"s and "ya know"s and all that good stuff. Guys, on the other hand, talk a lot less, and about more interesting things. A lot more of random facts, and a lot more cool stories. In my experience, there's a lot of talk about fire or shooting and all that good stuff.
2. Girl cabins spend a lot more time getting ready. In my cabin of guys, we were up and ready for the 5 minute hike to breakfast in 10 minutes or less. I normally took the 2nd longest (Michael took the longest), but that's because I had to put my contacts in and pull my hair back. When we were getting ready to go to the waterfront, we didn't take too long. The only thing that took a long time was showering. But that's another story. At girls camp, we take a full half an hour to just wake up and put clothes on.
3. Guys cabins don't really care about how dangerous or stupid something is. They don't care if you get dirty. They really don't care too much about appearance either. Girls do. Girls are so obsessed about how they look and staying clean and everything. They especially care about doing stupid things. They're so worried about doing something stupid taht could get themselves hurt that they won't really don't do anything.
Crazy stuff. Anyways, i gotta split.
Much love to y'all...
♥bella♥
Current Music: Jason Mraz-Please Don't Tell Her
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March 19th, 2006
10:41 am - Reality Check
To the girl who thought she had it all but blew it all:
(oh wait, that's me)
What happened here? You had EVERYTHING and you choose to blow it all to be emo.
How could you do that? You spend the first 14 years of your life trying to make everything great. And then you meet this perfect guy, and just knowing him makes you want to rip your heart out and stick it in a blender just so he can't hurt you.
But why does he make you want to do that? Because he's so perfect? Because he doesn't want to date you, even though you think he's amazing? Because it hurts to think about how someone as perfect as he is could ever care about someone like you?
REALITY CHECK, GIRL! Not every guy has to like you! It's okay to be just friends, let him be!
But how does he make you so sad? Do you just not want him to hurt you? Why can't you trust him? Not all guys are evil! He doesn't WANT to hurt you. You know that it would kill him if he ever knew that he hurt you!
Why did you have to ruin it? One chance, you had ONE CHANCE and you screwed it up because you were being emo. How could you do this?
And how could you make such a big deal out of this? You love him! Or at least, you think you do. You love someone you can never have! Get over it!
Signed: The girl who you'll never be.
xXx♥bella luna♥xXx
the only emo jock you'll never know
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/classic/angry.gif) frustrated
Current Music: Panic! at the Disco - Lying...
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08:45 am - opening my eyes, I feel so alone...
Is it so wrong to want to hear from someone because you think that MAYBE they might be able to help you? And then you're kinda upset/frustrated when you don't hear from them for, like 2 days? So I admit that I'm a little pathetic when it comes to stuff like this, but is it wrong to want a little help from someone who you truly care about? And is it wrong to want someone there for me, there WITH me so I can face the things that I can't face alone? And my closest friend won't help, because he can't be what I need, and he's off limits.
Part of what I need to face is being able to put my heart back out there. Trust people, learn to love again. And no, those of you who know my story, it's not Brandon's fault. I was a bad Mormon, I had a boyfriend when I was 14. Well, I don't even know if you could call him a boyfriend. We "went out" for a while, we were really really good friends, it seemed like a good idea. But he lived out in Carnation, and it's not like I can go out there and visit him on a regular basis, even during the summer. And he was 16, he had just gotten his license, he could some out here more often than I could go all the way out there. But anyways, that got him kinda tweaked. In the end, he told me that he didn't like that I always wanted him to come out here and whatever. So, a few days before Labor Day, before we go back to school, he told me that his parents were sending him to boarding school, so we wouldn't be able to keep in touch. So I was kinda sad for a while, but a few weeks later, I was on Myspace, and I found him and it said he was online, so I messaged his SISTER and asked her about it, and she said that he wasn't in boarding school and all of this stuff. Like, he tells his sister about everyone he dates, and he hasn't even MENTIONED me. So I confronted HIM about it, and he told me why he lied to me, and now I think he's scum and I want him to die. But at the time, and still today, it hurts to think about it. And that was only a minor crush, so if I really get interested in someone, and it doesn't work out, I'm almost afreaid to find out what would happen. But I really want to know that I can love again, and breaking up wouldn't crush me totally.
But that's why I want someone WITH me. Someone closer than Brandon to me, but not necessarily a boyfriend. I just want someone that loves me but respects me, and sadly, Brandon can't be that person. He just cares, even though I sometimes wish it were more. But hey, nothing's ever gonna happen, we're just friends, we don't want anything like that to happen. And I just gotta get over it. It sucks, but hey, no big deal.
xXx♥bella luna♥xXx
the only emo jock you'll never know
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/classic/shock.gif) distressed
Current Music: Keith Urban - Be Here
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March 16th, 2006
05:38 pm - conflict sucks
Let me just be the first to say that I hate conflict. I hate people fighting, I hate violence (unless it's necessary...I'll get into that later), I hate yelling and screaming, all of that. Yes, I do yell and scream at my parents constantly, but that is in self-defense. If I DON'T yell and scream at my parents, they will:
a) never listen to me
and
b) not care about what I say.
So when mini wars break out in my house, the LAST thing I want to do is stick around and get involved. At the moment, it's all about grades. My mom's being pissy about my sister being lazy (and yet, she STILL gets better grades than me...AND rubs it in my face) and missing assignments, and then Liz starts crying (as always), and they start yelling, and Liz KEEPS crying, and it just sucks. So I'm stuck here trying to do my homework while my family screams at each other. And soon they will turn their agressions to me and something that I'VE done wrong lately (because you KNOW they will find something).
I just want to get out. Really, I do. Just get outside, go run somewhere. Let my feet guide me. But it's getting kinda late. And what if I step outside and run into a neighbor. One that's heard every. single. foul-mouthed word?
So does anyone wanna help me and rescue me and take me in your arms...haha, that was really dumb.
But in all seriousness, anyone wanna talk to me so I can get away from all of this? Man, where are my brothers when I really need them? Oh, yeah. One's up with my spirit siblings up in heaven (Jesus, y'all), and one's at a Track meet. Maybe I should pray.
xXx♥bella♥xXx
Current Mood: scared
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March 15th, 2006
03:32 pm - High Tides and Bus Rides
I gotta say, today was definately a very strange day. No joke, I think this is one of the weirdest days that I've had in a while.
I woke up this morning not feeling rested enough. But I'm used to that, it doesn't really bother me that much. What bothered me is my dream. It seriously freaked me out. I woke up to my alarm, but it wasn't normal. I shot straight up, panting hard and sweating. I felt physically drained, like I had just swam a marathon and my limbs and lungs felt heavy and they hurt, like air and blood had turned to lead, and I was choking, but there was no sign that I had gotten tangled up and choked myself, or that I had moved at all in the middle of the night. Wanna know why? Well, as weird as it seems, I think that dream states can allow you to connect to anyone that has ever lived and died, like, you can access their memories. But I don't really know it's just a theory.
So anyways, I had this really scary dream last night. No joke, it totally freaked me out. So anyone who saw me today and saw me acting kinda strange, I'm sorry, but I was thinking about this.
It started just in a normal house. I woke up, got out of bed, but now that I look back on it, I didn't even realize that it wasn't my house. I went downstairs and grabbed a bathing suit off the clothesline, threw it on, and went out to the beach to meet a bunch of friends. None of these people looked familiar. I mean, they looked kind of similar to people who I had seen before, but it's not like they were my good friends or whatever. So anyways, I'm hanging out with these kids for a while, and we decide to go in the water. Now this is where things get a bit icky. I can swim, me, not my dream person. My dream person, I don't even know WHAT they could do. So I'm remembering that I can swim, even though all of the people around me are telling me to be careful. I go up to the top of the pier and dive straight in. I right myself so I can see the surface, but all of a sudden, I can't move. Like, I'm telling my limbs to move, I'm telling myself to swim, but I'm just kind of lingering there, feeling all floaty. So I flail around a bit, but I don't go anywhere. At this point, I'm running out of air, but I'm still not moving. I'm just floating about 10 feet down, looking up at my friends, and they're trying to get to me before I drown. So naturally, my mind starts to panic. As soon as one decides to dive off the pier to get to me, I run out of air, and gasp for air, and get a lungful of water. I feel pain, and just as the pain subsides and everything is fading, I wake up because I hear the radio on the alarm, and it sounds like people shouting at me. And it was really scary. And I started to cry because I really don't want to die, and I really don't want to drown. It made me hug my pillow and think about who I would really miss, and it hurt. But what it really made me think about is: am I hanging out with people who would be willing to dive in and save me from drowning?
I hope so.
But anyways, on to the bus rides.
I HATE THE BUS! All the people an my bus are stupid! These girls in the back of the bus today were talking about bands and stuff and emo boys. ARGH! STOP STEREOTYPING YOU FREAKING AIRHEADS!!! The were just talking about emo boys and slitting wrists and all this stereotype depressed people stuff. Just because someone's "emo" (which I am, I realize that. I don't want to be emo, because at least I know that Emo isn't a label) doesn't mean they're depressed, and vice versa. It just really pissed me off to know end. I don't think I'm gonna relay all of the stuff that they said, just because it was so dumb.
xXxbellaxXx
Current Mood: complacent
Current Music: Bowling For Soup - Hangover You Don't Deserve
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