Que Sera Sera

When I was just a little girl
I asked my mother what will I be
Will I be pretty
Will I be rich
Here's what she said to me

Que sera sera
Whatever will be will be
The future's not ours to see
Que sera sera

When I was just a child in school
I asked my teacher what should I try
Should I paint pictures
Should I sing songs
This was her wise reply

Que sera sera
Whatever will be will be
The future's not ours to see
Que sera sera

When I grew up and fell in love
I asked my sweetheart what lies ahead
Will there be rainbows day after day
Here's what my sweetheart said

Que sera sera
Whatever will be will be
The future's not ours to see
Que sera sera

What will be, will be
Que sera sera...

Why Do I Torture Myself?

I know the answer, it's pretty simple. No matter how many times I tell myself that he's not right for me, I'll always love him. He can go ahead and flirt with other girls, I destroyed everything because I am so FUCKING confused and I feel like screaming. I fucked around thinking that maybe I'd find someone who could fill this goddamned void I carved out of my life. I have no idea how to act, how to dress, look, flirt, survive, succeed, stay together... etc etc. I tell myself that I will be loved again, but I don't deserve it and I don't believe it. Three boys have loved me in my life and I threw them away. Maybe I'll end up a crazy cat lady. Love scares me, it's way too intense. I'm not happy, I haven't been happy. Things have been blowing up in my face because I stupidly do things (like accidentally pop balloons and spray frebreeze on lightblubs) that result in me shaking uncontrollably. I never experienced this kind of nervous attack before. I feel like I'm cold all over and sick with some kind of flu. The past few weeks I was pleased by lies. This whole ordeal is a complete mess. I hate coming home to the place where I met him. I tell my family that I'm an emotional wreck, but it sounds so dramatic... and it is. I'm really happy for him. I set him free at at time where he is "at the top of his game." I wish I could move on emotionally. But when guys flirt with me, I just want to punch them in the face. Well, I'd try to and probably fail miserably.

I hope the nervous shaking stops soon. I hope that my body doesn't quit on me after all the unnecessary things I've put it though. I sorry body :s please forgive me. I'm acting too much like myself.

Anyways, I'm not tired, so I'm probably going to watch old videos that I filmed with my friends from centennial. Fun times. For more fun here's me as I write this post (notice the tears, the very dramatic tears). Oh man... at least I can laugh at myself. I've still got that :D

:o

A light bulb exploded in my face. Shards everywhere. Karma sure is a bitch.

Before I Ever Knew...

When I first started writing on my blog, I used the desktop computer in my living room at home. I used to play Death Cab for Cutie's album Plans when I was home alone and belt out all the lyrics. Some of the songs made me cry. I was so overwhelmed with emotion. I assumed I was feeling love or something. But now I know that I had no clue to what I was feeling. I still don't. When you watch too many romance movies that tell you how to feel and what to do to find love, you get kinda lost. I don't know what's right anymore and I don't think I'll ever know. Maybe that's the point. You're not supposed to understand why you pull away, give up, cry to songs, over dramatize the little things, or fall in "love" over and over again. Will we get over it? Knowing if we will or wont doesn't mean anything really. All we can do is try and move on to something better. I threw away my first love/my security blanket and now all I have is myself. I'm not sure how I feel. For a person who can write a bunch of crap about her feelings on her blog, it's funny that I don't know how to understand them.

It's weird looking back at the little things I did in the past. I guess this is what getting older feels like. Hopefully I'll live long enough to feel like this more.

Last night I had a nightmare that my Dad died. I'm not sure what made my subconscious come up with something so sadistic. I hate dreams that love to fuck with your mind. Perhaps I feel guilty because he probably thinks that I hate him. I really don't. All I dream about are things that make me feel guilty... oh and things like cats morphing into cockroaches. But that's a whole other story.