Jesus I'm lonely.

The Dog Days Are Over.

It's been nearly a year, but I have come to a serene, peaceful, clear realization. I'm free, I'm letting go. I'm over you.
And God, it's beautiful.
Thank you for making last summer one filled with love, and this summer one filled with strength I didn't know I'd ever have again.
Goodbye.

To Err Is Human. To Forgive...

I think in order to forgive someone you have to find some reason outside of the situation.
You have to think of this one moment, this gorgeous freeze frame in which everything was right and good, and you have to know in your heart that because of this moment, this time, this section of your life during which you were truly happy, it is worth forgiving this person.
One can always say they forgive someone, but rarely do they mean it.
We get lost in the rage that fills our minds, the fixation we have with our own ideas. We can't let go of how we feel about this moment in time, a much darker frame.
No one wants to hear their flaws, thrown back at them like stones to the temple, but sometimes we have to.
Both injured parties must go back to their corners, and think about what they've done. It is truly divine to forgive wholly.
And you haven't really forgiven me. And I hear the words that you say even though you don't say them to my face. And even if I hadn't heard it from others, I can feel it. I can feel the rage you've been harbouring towards me just looking for the best way out. So I believe you've found it. I cannot and will not change how I feel, and it has nothing to do with morals. Not one thing.
It has to do with my love for you as a person, but you are much too set in your ways to believe that.

Constant optimism is bullshit, right?
I think the point is to try to be as positive as one can be. I think life is easier that way.
A balance is needed, however.
You need to be sad, and angry and jealous sometimes.
You're not the Dalai Lama.
Unless the Dalai Lama reads my blog.
I'm not the Dalai Lama, anyway.
In essence, I'm pissed off right now.
And I'm pissed off because after all this time, if you told me you wanted me back, I would run to you with open arms.

If You Want to Be Happy, Be.

Today wasn't exactly great.
I came to the realization that a lot of terrible things are going to happen in my life, and in the lives of the people I love dearly. Our house is empty and feelings are hurt and there's tension and stress and tears.
And it reminds me of a story about my aunt, that my mom told me once.
My aunt's first husband was having an affair, at the same time she was going through chemotherapy for thyroid cancer. She was working a job she hated to have enough money to keep her house through the divorce.
My aunt believes that what keeps a person from falling apart is that you simply have to get up in the morning and look in the mirror and tell yourself "Today, I am going to be happy."
Awful things are going to happen in life. You rely on other people to make you happy, and you could be waiting around an awfully long time.
As cliche as it sounds, you really have to make the choice to be happy.

Things to Celebrate

When you throw something at the garbage and land it.
When you throw something at the garbage and land it and someone witnesses.
Friends.
Swimming pools.
Friends with swimming pools.
Walking downtown without getting tired.
Picking enough strawberries to put them to use.
Successfully applying nail polish.
Eating a huge breakfast.
Taking naps.
Passing classes.
Being courageous.
Being alive.
Weekends.
Travel.
Music.
Listening to music while travelling.
Successfully cooking something.
Waking up like a minute before your alarm goes off.
Random acts of kindness.
Discovering an awesome new band.
Moving on.
Finding gorgeous vintage.
People who listen to vinyl.
People who are still in love.
Random acts of kindness.
That ONE time I beat Oliver at Mario Kart. Should have taken a picture.
Going to sleep.
Overcoming.
Actually looking good in a candid photo.
Witnessing a natural phenomenon.
Someone commenting on your blog post!
HIGH SCORE!
Feeling like you accomplished something, however big or small.
A successful show.
Musical theatre.
Obscure Holidays.
Finding your niche.
Learning a chord or two.
Growing something.
The little things.

They Call It A New Leaf.

Have I depressed you all to the verge of suicide yet?
I'm dramatic sometimes, it's very true.
It was a hard year, and today when I finished my last exam and thereby said goodbye to tenth grade, I decided it was time for a change. Of course, I decided to start here, because my blog is my creative outlet. That, and my mom won't let me pierce my eyebrow.
It's time to be real, but optimistic. Metaphorical sob stories get hard on the head.
New look, new out-look.
I can't delete all the old sobfest posts. They happened, they were part of my life too. That would be pretending.
And there will be hard days, and one can't always be optimistic, but at the end of the day I suppose it's important to remember that we are all free.

Why.

We never took a single photograph together.

Someday I will pull myself out of this hole.
It won't be dark, and I won't be afraid.
Someday I will be happy, and free, and think of you only fondly.
I will have success.
I will fall in love again.
I will love things I never thought could I love again.
I will want to get up.
I'll want to do it.
I know I will carry on.

"So I will live life day by day, and let each moment pass right through. And as the hours pass away, I won't forget to think of you. And if you're with me, I will smile, and if you're not, then I'll smile too."

Lets call it a day.
I can't follow.
You blind me.
You twist and make shapes I don't recognize.
What is time, and space, when you are with me?
It does not exist.
And with you in another place there is too much of it.

There is too much time, and too much s p a c e.
Although I have removed you before, I have to put you back each time and look at you, like the book you can't touch, but your mother kept on the shelf within your reach anyway.
And it is just time and space.
I sit there and I look at it.
There must be a day that will come when it will break and shatter loudly around me.
And it could only be sweet relief.

Good Intentions

I believe people assume that I am confident because I am outspoken.
I am only outspoken by nature.
I have so many quirks, and things about me that just aren't attractive, and I have a love hate relationship with these things.
Sometimes I embrace them, and sometimes, I just want to be with someone again, and then I start to wish I were different. Lately, I've been extremely attracted to someone in particular, but I have the sinking feeling that said person doesn't find me attractive in any way, shape or form. And I am constantly feeling this need to change. It makes me think of everything I am, and how when it's all there, in front of me, together, I don't always like it.

I don't brush my hair.
My skin is always broken out.
I'm failing math.
I take 30 mg's of Prozac every day, because I've been diagnosed with depression.
I'm overweight.
I have Trichotillomania.
I see a therapist.
I wear glasses.
My teeth are yellow sometimes.
I lose a lot of things.
I break a lot of things.
I get angry often.
I cry over extremely petty things.
I'm very jealous.
I wear too much makeup.
My eyeliner never looks good.
My breasts are way too small.
Writing is my passion, but I secretly want to be a truck driver.
I'm possessive.
I'm sensitive.
I can forgive on occasion, but I never forget.
I'm way too empathetic but I'm afraid people will think I'm self-righteous if I talk about it.
I'm judgmental but I try to love people.
Sometimes I feel like a bad person.

"I myself am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions."

A Work In Progress.

In the shadows of your empty room
I see your feet and watch you move through sun
We danced with dust and cracks
The beat of traffic, coming back
And you, a jukebox singing songs
A radio with nothing on
But all-consuming melody
Your voice, your body calls to me.

Where do you go in this city?

The television set is singing static loneliness
We tore the curtains down, and now the light shines on the mess
Lipstick stains on coffee cups I'll never put away
Your furniture and dirty clothes all have too much to say.

Where do you go in this city?

I used to get off the bus and walk, and watch the ghosts of you and I walking towards me, holding hands, talking. Your ghost looks as though he is in a world beyond my ghost.
My ghost is wearing stripes, but I am wearing floral.
It's a different time.
It's been almost a year since what you were became a ghost and who you are became seperate.
I don't wear that striped dress anymore, but she does.
Although I was myself and my ghost, you were no longer there in the flesh.
I used to go to bed with my ghost, and then she would turn on me. She didn't want to sleep.
She didn't want to get up either. She had realized as well as me that you are different now, different than your ghost was.
But if she realized it, maybe you were always the same.
I am not what you want.
And maybe she was not what he wanted, it was just that they didn't know it yet.
In the end, it's all me. Nobody else.
And spring has come.
Sun has come.
I have survived it, on my own. Without you.
With the snow, so disappeared ghosts, and so disappeared my need for you.
I do not need you anymore.

Let There Be Love.

I am so happy.
Bullshit isn't worth it.
I'm happy, I really am. I love so many people.
Everyone has something to offer.
I had a weak moment today but I know I'm falling out of love and moving on to something better for me.
My life seems to be going somewhere I want it to go.
I love life.
I love music.
I love everyone around me who is there because they love me too.

I Am Not Hollow.

I have had so many thoughts lately, good ones. I decided the only thing left to do is throw them all into one post. Otherwise, I'll forget them. Ryan, you've inspired me. I'm fucking sick of being vague and poetic. I was doing that because I want to be a writer. This is my blog. I'm going to mention names. I'm going to say exactly what is on my mind, all the time. Living life with the hope that someone else might pick me up and take me exactly where I want to go is getting dull. I will have no regrets, because those who look down on me, talk about me, or who are angered by me, will never know me. Never.

-I woke up this morning feeling as though I'd been hit by a truck, which then proceeded to back up and roll over me again. Needless to say, I stayed home. I still don't feel all that great, but it was also nice to stay home to just be alone for a while. School is so exhausting. I'm failing math miserably, and it's always on my mind. I also can't deal with the people at school sometimes. I am constantly jealous, and I'm always striving towards some invisible goal. It can't always be my job to be sensitive and make people happy. Sometimes, I'm going to piss my friends off, it's inevitable. If they want to go and talk behind my back about it, so be it. In two years I'll be done with this bullshit anyway.

-I feel inferior to almost all my friends, especially Ryan. About ninety-nine percent of the time I feel more stupid, less attractive, less creative, less understanding, less sensitive and less co-operative then all my friends. From this lack of...whatever it is, comes my constant need to one-up everyone. To save me from myself.

-While I'm still in the vein of school and friends, there's something else.
Morgan, I can't constantly be asking you what is wrong and what's going on. We all want to cry sometimes. We all have our crosses to bear. If you have a problem with me, you need to confront ME about it, or keep it to yourself. If you tell other people your problems with me, because you're trying to avoid confrontation, I'm just going to feel more confrontational. Join in the conversation. Talk to me. We all have something to deal with. Don't assume your cross is heavier than anyone elses.

-I FUCKING LOVE NEIL YOUNG.

- Try as I might to understand it, I have no idea what we're doing in math right now, and it's unbelievably frustrating.

-I'm not even a sensitive person in most respects, I just almost feel the need to be sometimes because some of my friends are overly sensitive.

-It's not funny to pretend to ignore people, it's annoying. I liked it when that when away, and I hate that it seems to be coming back.

- I've reached a point where I'm too lazy to even cook for myself.

- I have learned from Ryan's most recent blog post that he'd like his room to be more private, which is understandable, because we're always in there, but truthfully Ryan, your room with you and Jess is the only place I'm really happy anymore. No inhibitions there.

-I'm never happy with my room. I can't wait until I have my own place. I will decorate to suit my taste exactly.

-I don't care how much of an outspoken bitch anyone thinks I am, because if I don't say it, I'll think about it all the time, and then blow up in someone's face. It's not like all the people who have told me I'm "mean" have never had a thought, they just choose to keep everything to themselves. I keep a lot to myself too, and the rest is out there.

-I'm starting to get over Fin. Have you all noticed I haven't been talking about him so much? Well, not every waking second, anyway.

- I eat too much popcorn.

- I love my mom more than anything in the whole world, but on occasion she's difficult to talk to. And when I can't tell her, it's hard to tell anyone.

-I miss my dad a lot lately, which is odd. I hope he's having a good time in Mexico. My mom deserved to go nice places with him too, however.

-Broke is a state of being, but poor is a state of mind. We all have family and roofs over our heads. We are not so poor as those that don't know where their next meal is coming from. I think we should be thankful for each other.

The Equivalent to a Sigh of Relief.

I'm going to live.
I'm going to graduate because I have to. Then, I'm going to take a year off.
I'm taking a year off. I don't care what anybody else says.
I'm going to work. Hard.
And I know I'm going to have to work hard because I have been informed that if I don't go to university after I graduate, I'm not living at home.
And I'm taking a year off. To decide exactly what I want to do with my life, exactly why I'll be going to university, because I'm going to university for exactly what makes me happy. And I'll have to make money. Yes, I'll be living on my own. I know I'll have to work.
I'm staying in Fredericton. I love Fredericton. I'm completely aware that money is going to be tight but I have this extreme faith that I'll make it. I will make it. Even if I have no help, no support at all.
All I want to do is live, and be happy. I'm so overwhelmed with life, there's so much I want to do. There's so much I can accomplish.
And of course, I'll list it. Making lists keeps me calm, keeps me grounded. I love it.
Also, I'm not even slightly concerned with relationships right now, which is nice.
I don't know what I'll do, but I'm determined to do it.

-I have absolutely no idea what I want to do with my life, and it's terrifying, but for some reason, I really want to just wing it.
-Everyone keeps telling me I should always lay a foundation and make money before I do what I love, but I really, truly don't care if I'm dead broke. And it's not the idealism of youth talking.
-I don't think my maturity is hurting me in the least.
-I'm going to be in love for a long time.
-I think I'll probably fail math again. Not on purpose, but nonetheless, it seems to be heading that way.
-I'm opinionated, but I'm not as terribly outspoken as everyone seems to think.
-I don't do really odd things in public for the attention, I do it to see who my real friends are.

I've made a rather interesting discovery.
Living with you had its occasional difficulties, but I have realized over time that I am not nearly as happy living without you.
Not only that, I'm barely functioning.
I not only grow tired of simply going through the motions, it also makes me terribly sad.
I'd like to try again more than anything.

Reflection.

Nothing has changed, I can tell.
It seems like you all still talk about me, and I'm still alienated more often than not, whether or not it's on purpose. I have to intiate events.
I can't help but feel that any support is two-sided.
Everytime I read those things you all wrote about me I still cry. It still bothers me that you were all talking about the things you hated about me.
I feel like a last resort.

My City.

My mind is a city.
It has been created so that two thoughts may pass quietly, with underlying apprehension, small factors in the grand scheme, and never connect. Never allow themselves to come together and create something potentially ingenious.
Instead they duck down alleys, and hide in corners, if they see the pleading in the eyes of the strange thoughts passing on the dark city street. My thoughts refuse to be approachable out of fear.
Fear of imabalance.
Fear of the unfamiliar.