So here I am.

I'm been listening to great up-beat music lately. Part of me misses those heart throbbing Bon Iver-type songs I used to listen to all the time. But I can't bring myself to listen to them, not now. Not when things are looking up. I told myself that time has made everything better. However, I'm starting to believe that time has nothing to do with it. I've been bandaged up and my bruised ego has healed. Now I just worry the things that patched me up will lose their adhesion and I'll be left as pathetic as I was before. Fuck I was a miserable human being. I embarrassed myself for months. It freaks me out to think that the same thing could happen again. I guess that's why living under a rock has the potential to be comforting.

I could never do that though. There's no fun in living without fear of pain. The problem is that we can never see an end to pain. But, ends do come and happiness happens. So live it up and blindly step into the future.

I'm learning to enjoy the quest to find something better. That's pretty much the only thing keeping me together.

I talked to my mom today...

and I told her why I've been so miserable lately (crying randomly, sulking in my room for days, wearing my ray-bans all the time to hide my swollen eyes). I said that I'm terrified that I made a big mistake; that I ended a relationship that was really special and that I don't deserve to be loved by anyone. I don't want to think about if I did the right thing or not, but I can't help but feel like I cut off my own leg and now I'm struggling to walk. It's a cheesy simile, I know. It's the only way I can describe it. I told myself that it was the right thing to do over and over again. But when I think of the type of person I want to spend my life with, I think of him. I screwed up big time and perhaps I'll never be as happy as I once was.
When I broke up with him, I could never pin point the exact reason why. I now know that it was simply the geographic distance between us. It led to a loss of trust that I couldn't handle. After a long day of school, he wanted me to talk to him, which was not too much to ask. But he was in a bad place and wanted my support. However, I can barely support myself, and I just couldn't take it. We would fight about little things because we were drifting so far apart.
Now that we're apart indefinitely ( because now I know his parents hated me all along), I only think of the great times we had: eating lunch at our high school, hugging his back while he was on the computer, watching American Beauty and eating cereal off his chest, checking ourselves out in the mirror, walking to future shop, standing outside in the cold waiting for the bus, riding the bus and drawing invisible hearts on each other, going to Said the Whale, staying in bed all day, crying on each other, him falling asleep on my chest, talking on skype for hours while he was away in the summer, drinking beer, eating spits and watching hockey, holding each other while watching Wall-e (I cried) and having him care when I cried.

I could honestly go on forever. I think I would be ok if I knew that he remembered all these things and they didn't cause him pain. But, I know that he doesn't anymore, because they hurt him too much and so, all the good times we had are left to me to remember. And it's not a good memory if only you remember it and the other person sees it as a lie, regretting every moment, and for a good reason. I'm a heart breaker: first his, then my own.

Make fun of me.

Here's a list of things that people could possibly make fun of me for:

- I'm a vegetarian
- I'm cross-eyed
- I'm really awkward
- I live in a swamp
- I don't have my license
- I've done dumb things
- I'm not religious or spiritual in anyway
- I'm kinda a feminist
- I don't workout that often
- Sometimes I wear ugly things and am not aware of it until later on in life
- I was an ugly kid and still am
- I'm into arts in university... so I'm not smart in the eyes of the science people!
- I can never make decisions for myself, I usually screw up
- I try and usually fail in hilarious ways
- I can't argue very well
- I make pitiful lists like this
- I get lost in the past
- I don't make friends easily
- I'm confused about what I'm doing in my life

My mom would say that all these things are what the perfect man would love about me... but that's my mom.

Anyways, this all started because I'm an idiot and I looked at my ex's blog. I cried so much I actually threw up.... I know eh? Never happened before. He wrote something about talking to his mom about me and laughing about me and our relationship. It hurt a lot. After all, our relationship wasn't laughable. It was great. I loved spending time with him and I thought he did too. Maybe he's just writing these things to help him get over me, to not care anymore. I think that's the worst way to live. Why should you forget all the great moments in your life? Why should you destroy what made you who you are and what made you happy once?

I wouldn't care if he was dating someone else, I care so much that all the good memories of our relationship are laughable to him. That I am worthless.

I can't establish this enough, I am so fucking self-conscious I think I might be insane.

Repost: Wholesum Family Fun (July 2nd, 2008)

I should be babysitting right now. I should be sitting on the couch with nothing on my mind. I should be happy knowing that I haven't made my mom cry. But I'm not. I'm here, luckily. I'm here at this desk typing. Typing, without stopping to think about what I did. To myself. But most of all to those around me. I can't forget the people in the park with their kids. It was right after we drank. We were falling. And stopped at the side of the trail. I remember the people. The last thing I remember actually. They were happy. Really happy. Genuinely. They didn't need alcohol. Fucking goofy smiles.
Two days later.
I haven't been able to complete this post. Wait... Let me rephrase. I just didn't want to think about it really. I'm ashamed. The hospital gave me more than I deserved. I deserve to feel like shit, puking up my guts. I want to remember it all, so I can hate myself. They drained me. They took the poison from my vanes. I'm finding it hard to spell. My head is pounding. I just wanted to confront it. I've been punched in the chest. They told me my heart was beating irregularly. I want to look at all that happened and see the damage. I need it written down. In plain sight. I can see a little better now. I couldn't see my parents faces. I knew they were there, sitting beside my bed. They are hurt. I hurt them. I can't see their faces. I don't want to see them. To see pain. They will always remember the pain. I can't. I was unconscious. Is it any better? To be oblivious to the hurt? This isn't going to blow over fast. They will look at me. I made a mistake. they will talk. It was stupid. They will judge. I deserve it all. They will see me. It's more than I could ever do. Take a good look. I'm finding it so hard to see. I can't breathe, I can't spell and I can't stand it anymore. I'm so fucking stupid. I pride myself on being so fucking smart. I'm not. Not really. At least everyone will see it now. I'm not who they thought I was. I've been hiding from this. But now it's out in the open. Written down. I can't delete it now. I can see everything. I made a mistake. It's nobodies fault but mine. I could have been dead. But I'm not. I'm here, luckily.

The Stupid Things in Life

Since I've been in University, I have started to wonder what exactly makes people do stupid things. There's no doubt to the fact I've done a lot of stupid things in my life - some that I really should regret and perhaps never talk about again... but what's the fun in that? Anyways, I have two major exams tomorrow, so I'll try and wrap this up quickly with a convenient list of the top 7 stupid things I've sadly done, in no particular order:

7. Kissing my friend. Things became super awkward.
6. Taking one puff of a cigarette and hating it -don't worry, it was gross- (Swore to myself I never would when my aunt died of breast cancer.)
5. Vodka hospital list/Disappointing my parents.
4. Getting drunk and completely naked, somehow ending up in my friend's dad's office wrapped in a foam mattress cover.
3. Almost pulling out into oncoming traffic during a driver's lesson.
2. Drinking two energy drinks, smoking, and also drinking beer all in one night.
1. Accidentally (stupidly) taking too much medicine for my cold on an empty stomach -last night- and thus ended up puking and hallucinating for hours.

The funny thing is that I started off with a list of 5 and just started coming up with more. I'm just glad that I came out of all these experiences alive. I wonder if everyone has crazy stories to tell. I didn't think that I had much to hide until I considered all the crap that has happened over the years.

A sane person would say that they would go back in time and change it all. But, if time travel movies have taught us anything, it's that no matter how often time repeats itself, you'll probably just end up doing the same things over again:

I kissed my friend because I liked him. I knew it would be awkward in the morning, but at the time I didn't care. I wanted him to know.

I took that puff of the cigarette because it was offered and at the time I wasn't thinking for myself.

The vodka hospital visit happened because I honestly didn't know how much alcohol to drink or that alcohol effects people so quickly.

I got drunk at my friend's for fun, I passed out in her bed and that's all I remember. It was the first time I ever blacked out (without a hospital visit). The shit that happened after, happened without me being fully conscious.

My driving slip up happened because I don't pay enough attention when I'm driving. I'm insecure about my eyesight and once I get stressed I can't concentrate.

All the drinking, smoking and alcohol consumption happened because I wanted to see what it felt like.

And finally, last night was stupid because I didn't eat and took medicine. But, because I'm sick I don't have an appetite.

All of these things happened because of the choices I made, many which were made without better judgment. But the one thing I can't stand is being with someone who is a constant reminder of these sad and very embarrassing lessons I've learned. Afterall, I have my own fine memory. An outsider, father figure, telling me what is best without participation or passion, is the last thing I need. Unless you're standing next to me when I'm about to fuck up, you have no right to tell me you told me so or that you have a right to look down on me. I'd rather be in this big fucked up world of stupid experimenting human beings than in a glass world of naive robot perfection and isolation.

Last Night: Boy Time

All the girls went home to study for exams; all of the girls except for me and Rohan's friend. Everyone, but mostly Dylan, was trying to wheel the other girl because she was really pretty. But in the end her grandma called her and asked her to come home. That was the chirp of the night: "Dylan got cock blocked by grandma".

I was so fun hanging with the guys. Although, being the only girl from the floor, I got chirped a lot. I was the DJ for the night. I sat at Cole's laptop and took requests, mostly because I ran out of beer and Mike left (he was spotting me some). We played quarters, hockey, beer pong and COD. I lost at COD. It was Dylan against Fernando, Andy and me. I didn't kill anyone. I've actually never killed anyone in COD. It is probably the hardest game to play while intoxicated. Anyways, the three of us losing to Dylan meant that we had to streak. I left my bra and panties on of course.


It was one of those crazy nights that only happen once. For a good reason too, I lived a little to much last night. Now it's time to study Psychology and Canadian History like the good university student that I am.

Too Tired to Sleep, Too Hungry to Eat

Inside of me is a need.

For the touch of your flesh,

I find the substance from

which I feed.

Sustenance gathered from

pools of lust.

I'm a slave to something

I never needed before.

What can I do?

I can no longer lie in wait.

With my eyes always open,

they turn slowly to dust.

Give me something to do,

other than pine over you.

Today, my dog ran away. Helplessly I left my house with a leach in one hand, my cell phone in the other. It was dark. I followed him for twenty minutes along the road and another fifteen through the forest. As I was just about to give up, and bad thoughts crept through my mind, he ran towards me. He came close enough to allow me to grab him. I felt like crying, but I didn't because I am a warrior. THE END... and that was my day.

Willfully Blind

I stare at nothing. It has become second nature, a habit that I am unwilling to break. See, it gives me comfort knowing that the thing I stare at has no judgement towards me, no expectations. If I am depressed, I stare at a simple object. My concentration is completely directed at it. My mind is nowhere else. And when I feel so overwhelmed by my surroundings, I just close my eyes and block out all sounds.

I thought this whole depression phase was over. It is supposed to end. It happens to every teenager. I know this. I repeat this. It has a reason to occur in childhood, for the changes in the child's mind creates spaces that are soon filled with confusion and thus depression. So why is it happening again? I don't want to be like this. It would be simple to change, but I'm tired.

I sleep all the time. I get home from school and go to bed. My mom says that it's iron deficiency. I say that I'm tired. Of what? Well that would be the reason for this whole thing.

Yesterday night my father drank enough liquid courage to ask me why I hate him. I didn't know what to say because I never admitted to myself that I hated my father. He kept telling me that he was a good parent because he always gave me enough room. He told me that I only hated him because I was looking for someone to hate. He said his only fault was spending more of his time caring about my brother than me. He told me I have anger problems and that I just had to accept the fact that he was an asshole. I told him that he didn't have to be an asshole, it's not something to be proud of, something to blame your parenting problems on. But, everything I said did not register. I told him that I could never talk to him because he was only open to conversation when he is drunk. I told him that we could talk in the morning when he was sober. He took it as an insult and said something like "that was an awful thing to say", walking away and telling me that I was a spoiled brat. He cried during all this. I cannot tell if he remembers now. Everything was back to normal in the morning. I probably would have thought that I dreamt the whole thing if I hadn't of woken up to the sounds of my dad puking his guts out in the hotel toilet. I'm not sure if I want to talk about it in front of anyone in my family, I might cry or something stupid. I hate that I have a reason now to hate him. Before it was just small things, building up one by one. I guess those small things just got sick of being ignored.

The sad thing is that I probably hate my father more now. And you have no idea how much that hurt me to write.

I'm sad, and I don't want to be.  

You Call That Mature?

Fact: People grow up. Another fact: People put too much importance on maturity. Maturity is just a word. Like many other words it is used too much, to frequently inflate peoples' egos.

People tell you that you are mature for your age. BTW: not a complement. AKA: You are not as stupid and annoying as I assumed you would be when I found out that you were a teenager. Immaturity makes life interesting. If the whole world was made of mature people, topics on a rainy day would range from tax returns to what specific colour the wall paint is. So let's PLEASE stop acting like mature adults while we still have our childhood. Someday you will look back on yourself and hate that you never embraced your childish natures. But, if you had put so much importance on maturity, you will also see your childish self as an idiot. When, truly, that's just the way we start out. And you'll ask yourself in the most secluded part of your mature brain what you were thinking when you did those supposedly "MATURE" things, because to the future you, you were as egotistical as they come. I was there with you when you bragged about being so much more fucking mature than us, sorry to tell you but, it was kind of ironic. Do you really think that a mature person would brag about being mature? Jesus fucking Christ. You call that mature? Keep denying that immaturity is biting at your heels, keep running and looking behind you. I seriously hope you trip and fall, because once you do, there will be no one there to pick you up off your ass. Maturity means nothing, neither does immaturity. It's the way people act that make them mature or immature individuals. Mature means being responsible, responsible for your actions, responsible for your stupidity, and responsible for your health. But, that's just me looking through your smoke filled eyes and don't try telling me that your life is so bad that you have to do all this shit. Try thinking about people who matter for once. Your problems, my problems, are not worth reading. I hope this is a phase and that it ends soon.

I'm Tired but, I'm Not Going to Bed

I stay up all night. After awhile I convince myself that waking up will refresh me. It never does. I just go back to doing nothing. Ya ya ya, I know that in a few years when I will have to be doing something all the time, I'll look back and wish for this. Right now I'd rather be in a hole in the ground, away from this constant nagging in my head. Is it me or is it a piece of my mother poking my brain and making me jittery? That's what this is. I'm so full of pent-up energy that I could actually go outside for once. I haven't been eating correctly. My day is full of snacks. I babysit and come home and all I do is read, blog, play video games and suffocate myself with this nagging in my head. O, and eat more snacks. I think that all I need to do is vomit the contents of my stomach and I'll feel better. Not that I will though. I did it once when I wanted to get out of going to soccer practice and my throat stung all day. I'm watching south park right now. Well, it's a rerun but, it's something to watch other than go to bed. Tomorrow my mom is taking me to Milton to find the newspaper that I might be published in. I was excited awhile ago but the excitement wore off a little while back, My birthday is in 7 days. I haven't been counting. Someone told me. I don't want anything for my sixteenth. Well, to be honest I don't want to think about anything at the moment. My brain is mush. I don't want jewelery for my birthday cause I'll never wear it. I did ask that my mom help pay for the laptop that I plan to buy at the end of summer. She hasn't agreed yet, I hope she will. I need a computer to write on when I'm anywhere. No more scraps for me. I feel tired, but I don't want to sleep. I think I might go to my sister's empty room to sleep, it's colder and I wont step on any crap that seems to litter my room. I can't hardy type anymore, maybe I should go to bed.

What Does if Feel Like to Feel?

Have you ever thought about the origin of your feelings?

What if I only know what love is because I feed off of others?

Or if I only think that when something dies I have to cry? That it is normal.

If I never truly missed anything?

Just felt that it was what was demanded of me.

I'm really fucked.

What if I only swear because it sounds cool and gets a reaction... not because I'm angry.

I'm a product of your imagination.

You created me.

I feed from you.

You are my mother.

I am your child...

If you learn to hate me. You are just hating yourself.

I'm writing because I'll implode if I don't. Not explode. I'll never explode.

You will never have a piece of me.

I'm a figment of your imagination and you'll never prove my existence.

Like a UFO or an alien.

But back to this.

What are you feeling.

What am I feeling.

We can't put words to it.

Because these feelings are not ours.

They don't belong to us.

And the people that came before us don't know either.

God will tells us won't he?

Won't he?

In time they say, but

time is running out of gas.

We are all running on empty.

But, as long as we are full of feelings we will keep running on the gas of those who taught us to feel. Until. We stop.

The feelings stop.

Feel what?

I have no idea.

I guess confusion.

There is always confusion.

Feelings kill us... and diseases.

Diseases are fun.

We are running on opium not gas.

Talking to animals and forgetting where we are going.

Only to find ourselves where we least wanted to be.

Back to the questions and finding that we passed all the answers.

We are all going somewhere.

Where. We will never know.

Not even when we reach that somewhere.

Do we have souls?

Maybe a long time ago.

But we lost them trying to find a point.

They got bored and flew away.

Will we ever find an origin to these feelings?

I know I wont, but at the same time... I've wasted too long searching.

Does The World Actually Slow Down?

It's a question that I have asked myself before and thought about it on and off frequently. Just now the answer smacked me in the face as I checked to see if any of my friends had written anything on their blogs. A few weeks ago for Adam. One week for Yvonne and a couple of days for Maddy. Did they hit writer's block? Are they wanted by the government and in hiding? Are they frozen or something so out of this world that even I haven't thought about it? I will not know I guess, until they write about it. But, back to the world slowing. I find that when you are doing something the world seems to be frozen. Waiting for you to get back on its track. Like, my friends will remind me of my Canada Day retarded-ness. But, as long as I'm heading off to my brother's baseball every morning, I'm not thinking about it. About them. Is it cowardly? Ya sure, but eventually I will have to face what I did. And when that happens my worries will be put to rest and everything will by A.O.K. So, does this prove that by ignoring the obvious pile of shit I've stepped in... the world is just waiting for me to realize and wipe it off on a rock? I know that the world does not technically slow! I'm just saying that it feels like everyone and everything has stopped. Or maybe... It's all just waiting for me to face it. And the fact is... that shit ain't coming off, no matter how far I walk.

Wholesum Family Fun

I should be babysitting right now. I should be sitting on the couch with nothing on my mind. I should be happy knowing that I haven't made my mom cry. But I'm not. I'm here, luckily. I'm here at this desk typing. Typing, without stopping to think about what I did. To myself. But most of all to those around me. I can't forget the people in the park with their kids. It was right after we drank. We were falling. And stopped at the side of the trail. I remember the people. The last thing I remember actually. They were happy. Really happy. Genuinely. They didn't need alcohol. Fucking goofy smiles.
Two days later.
I haven't been able to complete this post. Wait... Let me rephrase. I just didn't want to think about it really. I'm ashamed. The hospital gave me more than I deserved. I deserve to feel like shit, puking up my guts. I want to remember it all, so I can hate myself. They drained me. They took the poison from my vanes. I'm finding it hard to spell. My head is pounding. I just wanted to confront it. I've been punched in the chest. They told me my heart was beating irregularly. I want to look at all that happened and see the damage. I need it written down. In plain sight. I can see a little better now. I couldn't see my parents faces. I knew they were there, sitting beside my bed. They are hurt. I hurt them. I can't see their faces. I don't want to see them. To see pain. They will always remember the pain. I can't. I was unconscious. Is it any better? To be oblivious to the hurt? This isn't going to blow over fast. They will look at me. I made a mistake. they will talk. It was stupid. They will judge. I deserve it all. They will see me. It's more than I could ever do. Take a good look. I'm finding it so hard to see. I can't breathe, I can't spell and I can't stand it anymore. I'm so fucking stupid. I pride myself on being so fucking smart. I'm not. Not really. At least everyone will see it now. I'm not who they thought I was. I've been hiding from this. But now it's out in the open. Written down. I can't delete it now. I can see everything. I made a mistake. It's nobodies fault but mine. I could have been dead. But I'm not. I'm here, luckily.

Final Fantasy X

WOOT WOOT! I finally beat that stupid bitch Yunalesca! Like who wears, well nothing when you are in a fight against people with swords? Yeah! I've been trying to beat her for like the past 24 hours. I haven't stopped playing and I'm hungry, I have to pee and my body is numb. She doesn't look that hard you say? Well, for someone who only uses Auron, Rikku, and Tidus... She is one hell of a bitch. Wow, you know you are a loser when... But at least I don't dress up like the characters... They call it cosplay. I call it dreaming.

Vegetarians and Nothing

I walked in on my Dad when he was watching The Prestige with Christian Bale. Being the stalker that I am, I decided to look him up on wikipedia. It said that he fights for animals rights. That got my heart beating fast! So, I checked it on Google... he's veg!! OMG I'm in love all over again! I'm so surprised because I hadn't realized that many other famous people are also veg...for example, Albert Einstein, Leonardo Da Vinci, Mark Twain, Isaac Newton, Vincent Van Gogh, Johnny Cash, Bob Barker, Brad Pitt, Robert Redford and of course, Christian Bale. I'm so happy!

I've been doing absolutely nothing for the past week, alternating between flipping through channels, playing final fantasy, watching weird movies and checking my blog, I cannot find that one thing that will engage this constant need to do something. It's as if I'm being chased and I can't do one thing for long or I'll be caught. Is that what school does to you? I guess it' s designed to be a good thing. No more lazy children. Always thinking that they should be doing something productive. The thing is, I never want to get a fucking job. Sure, it'll be fine for the first month, but after that, I'll be stressed and pissed at "the Man." It's like I can't see my future. I have no dreams. Not anymore. I'm just sitting, I'm alone, the way I made myself, with this annoying voice screaming in my ear, telling me that I have to do something with my life. Telling me, that no matter what I do, I will fail. I'm going to vomit. My heads is pounding, blood trying to escape this disaster waiting to happen. The pressure is getting to me. Pressure from where? I'm asking, but who will answer? Questions are so fucking easy. So easy to ask. But, why ask questions when you don't expect an answer? I'm trapped in this shit, in this steaming pile of shit the world is made of. God, what the hell am I talking about. My life is awesome. Life is beautiful. Do I really believe that? Questions. questions, questions. And more god damned questions. I'm laughing at myself. Are you laughing at me. You can lie if you want. It's OK. I can't hear you. A least you'll be doing something. Filling your life with something. Mine echo. My empty laughs. I'm empty. Emptiness is only comforting when you know that someday it will be filled.

New Additions

I'm going shopping today. I'm getting new frames cause I broke my glasses. I'm also going to the pet store. I'm ready to get a new pet. Not sure what though... I really should be studying for exams and doing cooking homework but I'm procrastinating! So ya, I'm going to tell you what I'm doing today and try and waste as much time possible doing nothing. Well, anyways I'm going to go now cause I have nothing to say for once, it's easy actually to just talk about nothing. I once has a dog named Burt. He had a raincoat and he could say, "I love you!" The dog was bit by my neighbor because my neibour was jealous of my dog's new coat. He them attempted to wear my dog's coat, but it didn't work becaue he is not a dog. Shit, I have lost my mind and now I'm crazy!

Homer: "No beer and no t.v make Homer go...something something."

Marge: "Go crazy?"

Homer: "Don't mind if I do!"

What is in a name...

I changed my blogs name. Verbal Diarrhea didn't sound great anymore. I changed it to Verbally Suffocate Me. Seems more fitting, considering I talk too much and that if it were possible to die from talking or verbalizing oneself, I'd be dead a long time ago. I guess this is a perfect example of how things change. Well...not perfect, but you catch my drift.

Did you know that it is possible to die from laughing? For example in a hostage situation, were you are told to be quiet, but you can't stop laughing, you get shot. There you go! Ha I proved all you scientists and sceptics wrong!