Let the good times roll

I never really dated much in high school. I'm making up for it now though. I've met some great people who are fun to talk to and live interesting lives. Dark days seem far behind me. There is definitely some more heart break in my future, but for now I'm enjoying the fact guys are swarming me for attention.

Me Month

aka self-love, super improvement, (to please no one but yourself!) month. I only started yesterday, so I'll go for 29 more days after today.

Here are my goals!

1. 1 hour of yoga everyday. (He reminds me of my bro!)2. Drink lots of water. Yeah!3. Eat healthy, stay away from pop, beer, chips and fried foods... and while I eat healthy I must look great too!4. Whiten my teeth with white strips (and smile awkwardly...)5. Stop straightening my hair so often so it will grow faster. (This guy knows what's up.)6. Do my readings for class. I actually don't find studying boring at all!7. Have a positive attitude :D like this monkey. He's so happy on his happy birthday!

If I follow a strict schedule, I think I will easily be able to achieve my goals! (I'm whitening my teeth right now :) and if I feel happier, stronger and most importantly - loved by myself, I'll stick with it... I probably wont do yoga for an hour everyday next month, but I'll switch to high intensity 3 times a week or if it's nice, I'll start running outside again.

I love you less, now that I know you.

On Wednesday I had to make the 20 min walk to West Campus for my 3 hour psychology class. I was alone, but I had my music. I was listening to "Walking on a Dream" by Empire of the Sun.
So, I was making the snowy trek to my class. It was so cold outside, but I didn't feel it. It was one of those rare moments when you just realize that all worries about yourself, your head, your heart: are not important. I just watched the snow fall, smiled at people passing by and enjoyed the peace of a peaceful mind. It wasn't that I forgot about all my troubles, my regrets, my sadness caused by all the things I've done to other people, worrying what they think of me - hating me; it was that I was somehow elevated above, looking down on problems and saying: All I need is me. Because in all of this giant universe of ours, no one will really understand us and get us as well as we, ourselves, do. Of course there will be that person who you talk to constantly, perhaps the person will love you forever and die holding your hand, but they can never get inside your head - you will always think first and tell them later. You are the primary objective. Selfishness is key to self love.
And ya, breaking up is hard, because you lose the person so close to fully understanding you. But they're never really there if you fight over the same things and they don't support your dreams. After all, what's worse than loving someone - someone so close to you, that sees you as plainly as you see yourself - who doesn't accept you and holds you back. To allow someone to hold you down, you're showing how much you hate yourself.My goal is to meet a person who ignores little common annoyances. What I mean by this is that they will see me as a separate person. Way too often people try to latch on to another and control the outcome of their lives. I'm all for loving someone so completely that your heart jumps at the sight of them and you are an emotional mess, but people need their own lives too.

This is all I ask:

Let me be proud of who I am,
let me change myself (I will still love you all the same),
then let me grow up in this crazy world (I'll hold your hand if I need to),

let me learn new things everyday,
let me stress out and worry about my future,
then let me have space to get better,

let me wear the clothes I like,
let me tattoo my body if I want to (I'm only hurting myself),
then let me confess my mistakes (I have many),

let me be free,
let me go and
then (please) let me come back when I'm really.

I'd do the same for you.

Before.

I used to look at couples and be filled with jealously. I would then hear my sister complain about one of her boyfriends and I would want to scream: "You are so lucky to have someone." When people are in relationships they want out, but when they're alone, they would trade anything to be in one. It's a vicious cycle.
The one thing I learned about myself is that I treat people as if they were disposable. Mostly because I don't value myself and so, why should I value the feelings of others? I tell myself that I don't care, but after it's all done, I do care. I'm childish in this way, willfully blind against any wrong doing; that is, until I can't simply shield reality from myself any longer.
All in all, I'm terrified. Although, it helps that I'm not alone. I know that I'm not alone. Everyone is terrified in their own ways of course. This is the very first time I've felt so entirely useless, stuck in a pile of mud that I knew was right under me the whole time.
I'm scared of sickness, of cancerous moles, my weakening eyesight, bad grades, never finding love again, losing friends, not making friends, mental illness, self-loathing, and countless other things that look so stupid when I write them down.
I'm going to try and stay up all night to get my sleep back on track for school. I'm excited to work out again too. Running always makes me feel like a warrior and it clears my mind. I obviously need my head cleared, the headaches have started and my hands are shaking more than ever. I've become a fickle old woman at the age of 18. Damn, I'm still so young!

The New Years Resolution

It's the day of reflection and change. The day where people all around the world commit to improving their lives in one way or another. Some might be committing to gym memberships, diets, or future goals. I know one boy that will be committing to getting over me. I for one am going to stop dwelling on my past mistakes. But I am not going to aim to "get over" the one person that I loved, and sit love no matter what. There were so many great moments that made me who I am today that I can't possible just get over them and pass them off as simple moments. The past has its beauty and its pain, that's why I can't concentrate on it anymore. There's so much beauty and pain in the future that will require my attention. If things end up working themselves out, they will work themselves out in the future.

I resolve to keep living in my head and stop worrying about what will or won't happen; to just let time work things out.

I don't like change.

Charts of My Life

Looking at the last three years of posts on this blog you can easily tell when I am happy and when I'm not. 2008 - Lots of post because I'm a depressed teen. 2009 - Very few posts because I'm in love and crazy about school. 2010 - Lots of posts because I'm not so crazy about school, boy drama and sad times start again. Hopefully in 2011 I'll have few posts again. New Years resolution: Get my freaking head back in working order... or fall deeper into insanity, lock myself in my room and write the next bestselling novel/popular movie franchise. Both have their benefits.

I'll love you always.

I read somewhere that love is like a drug; When you go cold turkey you experience an addict's withdrawal symptoms. I can vouch for that.

I find it hard to get to sleep and to get out of bed in the morning. Every happy song seems depressing. Little things stab at my bleeding heart and I hold back tears. I wish I could restart my heart on a different track. I wish Bon Iver didn't remind me of being loved.
I miss the little simple things that I took for granted. The hand holding, having a shoulder to cry on, someone to laugh at your dumb jokes, stare at you forever because they truly believe that you're beautiful, listening to sweet music, falling asleep being held and not waking up feeling alone and unloved. I wish I could hide away in these memories, but they make me so sad because I threw them away. Life became too complicated and love was lost. And I miss it so much every second of every day. I feel like the only lonely person in the world and I would do anything not to be alone.

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.

I Think I Should Have Come With a Warning Sign Tattoed on My Heart

I really should be doing the copious amount of work on my plate right now. But, I really don't feel like writing a book review. I get sick way too often. It could be the drinking, the smoking, the constant stress, but I think it's because I'm falling apart. I believe that there is a direct correlation between the mess I'm in and the state of my mind. Seems pretty obvious.

Anyways, I like it here. In this giant concrete building full of crazy teens, breaking windows with their asses, pulling fire alarms at 2am, and causing a general ruckus. I also love it here. When you're sick, there are people that give a shit. You have no idea how many people offered me tea to help me feel better. But, the thing is, all I really need is time. Time is always seen as a bad thing. We fear it as we get older, we curse it when we die. I've been watching too much Six Feet Under. Damn that show is depressing. I think I spent at least 13 hours yesterday watching one episode after another... It doesn't really open your eyes to anything new. Everyone dies, people cheat on each other, people often die alone/young/old, sometimes people let each other down, and in the end it really doesn't matter where you go when you die. If heaven is real, then that's awesome, but for a lot of us, our lives are our hell. One of my greatest fears is to never get out of this mess I've made. One of my greatest hopes is to be an extra in a zombie movie. But, overall, I want to fix more hearts than I break. Maybe I'm not the right person for the job though, soon I'll figure it out and perhaps I should become a funeral director like the brothers on Six Feet Under. Then I wont have to worry about hurting people.

Anyways, back to work to keep my mind off of my sickness. I hope it will go away soon, but then again it's kinda comforting to feel the constant effects of my misery. I need to keep telling myself that the world is a beautiful place and that I'm in a wonderful situation in life. I need to forget the fact that I'm inexperienced in the ways of the human heart. Someday, hopefully soon I'll learn. Until then I'll save up my money for an ad campaign to warn the world of my insanity.

I think I should write another short story. I haven't written anything creative in a long time.

The Fine Art of Finding Yourself

I love the fact I get goose bumps when I hear a certain song. Even kisses give me the bumps. My lips are ticklish and my heart is weak. Today I learned that we are all trapped by our inability to be socially imaginative. I wish I could see the greater implication of myself in this big picture.

Everyday I push my boundaries, silence the screams of my inner super shy girl, and take daring steps in an untraveled land. I meet new people constantly, each eager to find someone to replace a certain best friend they left at home.

I never thought I could be this happy without my family around me. But the thing is, if ever I'm sad or aching for human contact, I have a floor full of friends to talk to. I never thought I would be reading so much in so little time. I enjoy keeping bust though. I can't imagine myself anywhere else at this point. A social environment was what I always needed.

Everyone here is going a little bit crazy. To an outside observer we are all crazy teens drinking too much and making noise in a quiet world. That outsider was me for the most part of my life. I was miserable and hateful of those people. I even told myself it was because they were just "crazy teens". Now that I'm in the center of it all, I can rightfully say that we are exactly what people fucking say. I'm crazy, I've always been crazy. The fact that I write that sentence with a grin on my face makes me crazier.

So, in my mind what's the point of living if you never test your limits? In this life there is but death. Why not intoxicate myself with new experiences based on love, drugs, feelings, people and knowledge? I'm experimenting with this new world I'm in and it sure as hell ain't quiet.

Before Boys and Broken Hearts

It's been a month today since I last wrote on this lovely blog and I think it's about time I reflect on who I am. Things haven't been very clear to me for awhile. I've been crying much more than normally and had two panic attacks last month. I stress way too much about things I can't control, but I think the major factor is that I put too much pressure on myself to be perfect all the time, which is obviously impossible. If I understood myself and my limits I would be able to get through scratch free. But lately I've come to realize the power one person's opinion can have on your well-being. Two people I love are telling me two different things about who I am and how I present myself to them. It's sad that I have to rely on other people to understand myself, but that's why there's people who are paid to do so. Anyways, I'm feeling much like the awful person that I've been told to be right now. I wish I could see who I am and understand why my actions might hurt, but I'm not sure where to start. Well, I'll guess I'll begin by reflecting on my life before boys and broken hearts.

For the longest time I was never comfortable with the girl in the mirror or the girl in pictures, many teenage girls/boys likely go through the same thing. Luckily I am blessed with amazing friends who are unique and fun. Unknowingly they helped me through rough times by simply being there and in that way managed to shape me into who I am today. Because of their presence and influence, soon I began to view the good intentioned (sometimes major fuck-up) yet stubborn vegetarian looking back at me in the mirror as a good thing. The girl behind the glasses was changing for the better (in my opinion). I started working out, eventually I became confident enough to wear nicer/tighter clothes (that I never wore because I was ashamed) thus attracting compliments from family and friends. I lost weight, but I also lost the bulk of clothes designed for people to hide in. I began to push myself hard in school because for one I love learning and two I thrive off receiving praise for my hard work. - I was finally getting the much needed ego boost that I had denied myself for the longest time, which had left me miserable and lonely. I am so lucky to have such a great family, environment and group of friends to support me and make me feel loved.

Now let's get to the boys and broken hearts part. Don't get me wrong, I did attract the attention of boys before my boyfriend, but I never understood why they would want to date me. I know eh? Pity party for me! But, seriously, it never occurred to me that they might find me pretty or that maybe I had a personally that appealed to them or something. I'd turn them down thinking I was doing THEM a favor. Jesus. My "oh pity me" ways not only hurt myself, but also those boys that probably genuinely liked me as a person. In the words of my father: "you're a heart breaker, that's not a good thing." When I would turn them down, I saw myself getting more and more miserable, burying myself in giant sweaters from value and hating people for some retarded reason. My actions made me hate myself and I was spiraling into some metaphysical pit of permanent isolation. Then the craziest thing happened, one boy managed to get through my defenses. For some crazy reason he found the giant sweater wearing awkward girl to his liking. At this point I was already beginning to change myself (working out, becoming more friendly, etc.).

So now back to these conflicting attitudes. This brave boy, who saw me at my weakest point, doesn't like the person I've become. Lately I've been celebrating my confidence by wearing girly clothes, by painting my nails neon pink and loving the way my bikini looks on me. Some might call me fake or something, hypocritical etc etc. But I'm finally doing what makes me happy and sadly I haven't been happy for a long time. Too bad that it doesn't make the people who count happy. Well, I don't think my personality has changed much, I'm still a goof ball, jokester, obnoxious, sifi nerd, non-gossip, loner and often shy girl. I am proud to say that I'm not afraid to speak my mind anymore. My teachers helped a lot in that department, but also the eye surgery that I received helped with my fear of eye contact. I never really mentioned that. But that also made me avoid boys because who would want to date the crazy-cock-eyed girl who was afraid to take off her glasses. All in all, I had believed these changes were for the better but, I think I'm as vulnerable now as when I started. I hear that I'm a good person from my mom, as to be expected. But on the other hand I'm told I'm a bitch and a slut, with no one in mind except herself. I take it all to heart even if they are jokes because I'm stupid and weak and I'm left with old miserable self once more and I not sure what to think about the confident girl in the mirror anymore. I think I'll miss her when she's gone, even if she wasn't a great person. I know that I never intend to do awful things, I believe that I have good intentions. But did I have to pay a price to get to this point? I think I have, for I feel so unloved right now despite being surrounded by my family.

I'm going to Kingston in September. I'll hopefully be making new friends and will be beginning to stand on my own. My worst fear is that I'll lose the girl in the mirror. I think I like her - despite some negative reviews.

I've grown so much since I first started this blog. I'm proud of who I have become. The scary thing is, I'm not sure how long I can keep telling myself that if I don't really believe it.

Hey There. You Bad Seeds. Let's Get It On!

I was born upside down.

My dog had puppies. One was born inside out.

We're all born with sins. Better start cleansin'.

I'm disturbed by the world and its grim surprises.

Reality is a bitch sometimes.

Life is beautiful, - as long as you see it that way.

I choose to see many ways.

That's why I'm bitterly cynical.

Finally! I'm clinically perfect.

I've checked out and I'm on my way.

I'm not finished though.

I still have a long way to go

until my head is right.

What about you?

How's your head doing?

I love the heat in your movements.

But, coldness throttles your every word.

You love cold, lifeless things.

You hate those close to you.

Their touch burns your skin.

You hate them for what they don't give you.

Is there no other reason for it?

It's so hard to love someone for what they do give you.

On their death beds you will remember it all.

Only then will you see, that you hated them for being everything you could have ever wanted.

People tell me to be things, but I don't feel like listening.

But, you... you listen to the movies, the music and your real self fades.

You are hiding.

I try not to listen, because this chameleon needs sleep.

So do you.

Take a break, write a song, sing it to yourself.

Find God.

Then find out that there's more to life.

Find your own answers, ones that you can't find in any book.

Discover the world outside your room. Find a balance.

Discover that outside of your bad seed sprouting head there is an occasionally beautiful world out there.

Change again my brother and you'll lose your

grip.

I could stare at ink blots, but I only see ink.

Tell me what you see and I will change my story.

Because there is more to you.

You're not just a depressed teenaged boy.

You're scared of being alone, so scared you'd rather die than think about it again.

As long as you stare at everyone else, you'll only end up failing the Rorschach test.

"The voices say hello." - Matthew Good A Boy and His Machine Gun

CONSISTENCY

If you stare at things consistently enough, their consistency begins to break apart and hit you with bone crushing force. It's hot. Sweaty hot. And I'm lying here staring at my fan spinning. I could stare at it for hours and as I watch the blades spin round and round, they would become one moving object. But, in my current state I can see each blade cutting through the air. Consistently, my eyes catch sight of one, then the other. For some reason they seem to tell me something important as if my fan is going to teach me an important life lesson.

There are tiny black flies touching my naked back, my face, landing on my eye lashes and on my computer screen. I'm annoyed, well at least I think I should be. Maybe they are minor annoyances, maybe they are trying to tell me something as well.

I'm trying to make some philosophical finding out of this. I thing I wanted to find was meaning, but now I just see that I've come across and insane. That's cool. I don't want to wait to see what will happen. I want to know what will happen so I don't love just to have a broken heart in the end. That's what I wanted to find. I wanted to find an answer, not meaning. But, now I see that neither the blades of my fan, nor the bugs will give me some mind awakening answer to the problems with my heart.

Gettin' Ova It

Here I am again! Am I happy? Sure. I'm fucking elated.

I've begun to realize that one mood cannot define your life. You are a mixture of all your ups and downs. The downs suck. Obviously, as one could tell from my last "depressoid" post. I love reading over what I wrote in the past because at the time it felt so good to just write what I felt. I wrote stuff on the internet that I could not tell a human being face to face. Then again, that was at a time where I thought that I didn't have anyone that was willing to listen to my troubles. But, now I've learned that my friends are troubled too and love to talk about the shit that happens.

So far this year I've learned 10 epic things about my life and the people in it:

1) My mom is totally cool when it comes to dating and she wont make me come home at 10 pm on a Saturday night.

2) My dad knows that I hate him. He wants to change? Naa he likes being an asshole.

3) My parents are not all-knowing beings, it took me 16 years to discover this? Yes.

4) My friends are cool when it comes to venting for hours and staying up all night.

5) Never babysit a kid with a foot-fetish.

6) Being a nerd and a total loser doesn't mean that guys wont talk to you ;)

7) If I'm not making people happy, I feel like crap. Therefore, I know why I want to be a therapist.

8) I don't think I want to write professionally anymore.

9) I can't imagine doing anything in the future that requires effort.

10) I'm incredibly annoying.

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.  

I've Got a Creepy Feeling About All This

The concept of change hits you like a breaking ball. It rips through your body and shocks you to your core. There are changes to make the world better. Changes in medicine, education, laws and most importantly: our way of thinking. Sometimes these changes will happen fast and be accepted immediately, but others will only happen though determination and time. One day I feel that I will become like my parents. I will hate the changes to the traditional world in which I was raised because it will signify the loss of my history. Will I hate people who are different than what I consider normal?

It is true, that everyone wants to be remembered. But, who wants to remember a world where people were slaves to their own assumptions of their own superiority, their own definitions of freedom, of what is morally right or wrong. Our language is not universal. We are just animals with the mindset that what we say is definite. That what we do can always be justified by our means. That what we write is read. That what we envision is pictured the same in every reader's mind. We have created a glass dome, in which we are safe from outside influences. In which we are the superior ones. And yet, a spider crawls into the dome and makes a grown man break into a cold sweat. 

we lie to ourselves on a daily basis. willful blindness helps us in our sad plight. let us all follow the leader. let us all deny our abilities. let us all ignore the warnings from our aching limbs. let us all destroy ALL compassion. let us unite in hatred, dance in the darkness, spill the blood, drink the sorrow, bask in our greatness, smile at the wars, defend the death, eat the flesh, deny the facts, swallow the shit, burst with pleasure, break the rebels, follow the leader, follow the rules, follow what is best, we are all tools

we are no longer human.

COMPASSION, DENIED

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.

Try This On For Size

The pigheadedness of people is astounding. It's curious how the fangs appear, as if from thin air, once the person is backed into a corner. The corner closes in and the only way out is through the person blocking you in. Either you can go through them, blast them down or wait until the waves of insults/arguments are passed. Just try to ignore their smug sense of satisfaction as you gather your bloodied parts, wipe their spit from your face and slink by them. The other ways involve confidence, a suicide wish and a few more brain cells. See, if you spend all your life getting beaten up by the "facts", you lose brain cells needed to find the facts. That is their point. To stop you from finding your own way and your own facts. I'm giving up on convincing others to believe what I believe. There is no point, because I could be wrong and I'm only preventing them from finding their own way, plus I've been beaten up by the "facts" way too many times. Just like raising children to be a certain religion or even vegetarian. You have to wait until they can see the facts that you feed them. You tell them the story and let them choose, they'll thank you for it later and they'll understand why they are the way they are. They'll see that they are the product of their own choice and belief. Ex. I've been baptised. It means nothing to me, because I found my own way. I sometime start to wonder what would have happened if my mother took me too church every Sunday. I'd probably not hangout with the people I do, I wouldn't swear, I wouldn't be a vegetarian, I would be scared of gay people, I would read the bible-- not Cosmopolitan, I would be a happy person, I would confess to some "bad things I do", I wouldn't think about suicide (don't worry, haven't in a year since I began writing), I wouldn't have ended up in the hospital, I wouldn't have gone to Centennial and learned about sex and evolution, I would have joined a production course to realize that all the swears have been blacked out (that fucking sucks ass), my blog would be more boring and everything will be very opposite. That scares me to death. It's not those facts, it's the possibility that my mom determined my whole future with that one decision. Power is not always as obvious as a blazing gun. If the whole world was full of god-loving, animal murdering crazies then there would be no nature-loving, plant eating crazies to balance out the whole equation. It's simple science. It's that my mom made the decision to deal with a animal loving crazy when she let me choose. I grew up and I will continue to grow up until I find my way. I'm getting old enough to see the infinite things that could make or break me. I've got a lifetime to figure out if this crazy is right for me, there is always another crazy waiting to be tried on.

The Very Preptarded Line Between Best Friend and Enemy

What do you do when two people you love fight? Me, I sit and try not to get involved. It helps everyone: I get to be lazy and they get to work it out or avoid each other. I know many people who will jump right into a problem and want to get into the thick of it. It just might make them important or something. Now, I used to spit advice at anyone who would take it, well at least nod and pretend, hell if I cared. Advice ranging from boy troubles, funny... coming from someone who has never had a boyfriend, to family issues, equally funny... coming from someone who has never really had any. So, now I'm just starting to learn to shut my trap and sit on my ass. Something that suits me fine. Until that one faithful day that someone yells at me for not caring about their life enough, this will continue. Gossip is a preptarded thing, the less you know the more you want to know, the more you know the more you complain about being in the middle of it. It's simple, step off the playing field, it's someone else's game.