I will guard you fiercely. I will
cherish every moment with you. I will hang onto every word you speak and
tremble under your fingertips. I will savor every kiss and breathe in your
essence. I will smile at every memory. I
will long for you every minute you are away. I will seek you in times of
tribulation, and I will cry for you when I can’t find you. You are everything I
have ever needed, everything I have ever wanted, and my home.
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Thursday, November 29, 2012
death by overdose
sounds lovely write now. i can just picture my fatality report.
Name: Annie Kittrell
DOB: 02/19/98
Time of Death: 11/29/12, 11:11 PM
Cause of Death: Suicide by Overdose
Name: Annie Kittrell
DOB: 02/19/98
Time of Death: 11/29/12, 11:11 PM
Cause of Death: Suicide by Overdose
Monday, November 19, 2012
it's hard not to look at my fingers and not long to have yours laced between them.
it's hard not to tuck my hair behind my ears and not think of how you always try to and fail.
it's hard not to lay in bed and wish you were there with me.
it's hard to think about you and not be able to hear your voice.
it's hard not to miss you even though it's only been a day.
it's hard not to feel this way when you're 1,034 miles away.
i don't wanna feel like this again. i don't want another 862.6 dreadful units of measurement fucking things up again. i shouldn't be scared but i have a good feeling everything is gonna get messed up all over. and i can't do a single damn thing about it.
i love you..
it's hard not to tuck my hair behind my ears and not think of how you always try to and fail.
it's hard not to lay in bed and wish you were there with me.
it's hard to think about you and not be able to hear your voice.
it's hard not to miss you even though it's only been a day.
it's hard not to feel this way when you're 1,034 miles away.
i don't wanna feel like this again. i don't want another 862.6 dreadful units of measurement fucking things up again. i shouldn't be scared but i have a good feeling everything is gonna get messed up all over. and i can't do a single damn thing about it.
i love you..
Saturday, October 27, 2012
growing up
-the realization that life isn't all about you.
i guess it takes a while. i mean, i always knew it wasn't about me. there's seven billion or some shit people in the world who all have different feelings and thoughts and dreams and they're not all gonna stop to serve me what i want. that's always been obvious to me. i'm not the most important thing. but it was always like my life was a movie, a movie in which i was the protagonist and those i despised were the antagonists, and i wanted to destroy them.
everyone i met, i wanted to play them into my game, to persuade them to my side, to hate my nemesis. i gave them a million reasons, from tangible gifts to just being a good friend. i lied, even cried. and it worked. it worked for so long and everyone loved me, called me an inspiration or some other bullshit. but it never meant anything to me. and i could never figure out why.
but now i think i know. because everything i did was crafted by my own hands, nothing they said made me feel like i had done anything right. because all i had done was manipulate them into saying what i thought to begin with. i painted myself as the protagonist and wrote other characters in to follow the plot that *i* wanted. i probably should have guessed that it wouldn't work.
sitting on the bus on the way home, when i wasn't sleeping, i realized it's not a movie. life isn't some stupid fucking fairytale, with princesses and dragons and knights in shining armor riding atop white stallions. there's no exposition, no rising action, no climax, no resolution. oh god, that's the absolute worst. no fucking resolution. it's a fucking rollercoaster and just when you think everything is gonna be okay something suddenly falls apart. your best friend leaves, your extracurriculars drive you insane, or depression threatens to drag you back down again, back into the deep dark hole you've been trying to evade for so long.
defeat is imminent and you can feel it. and you're scared. you're more scared than you've ever been. but what difference does it make if you fall? everyone will just walk past you. they'll kick you in the sides and dirt in your face. spit on you. and not even think twice about you. but what about the people who need you? what about the people who have depended on you so long and you've suddenly disappeared?
what are you supposed to do then?
i guess it takes a while. i mean, i always knew it wasn't about me. there's seven billion or some shit people in the world who all have different feelings and thoughts and dreams and they're not all gonna stop to serve me what i want. that's always been obvious to me. i'm not the most important thing. but it was always like my life was a movie, a movie in which i was the protagonist and those i despised were the antagonists, and i wanted to destroy them.
everyone i met, i wanted to play them into my game, to persuade them to my side, to hate my nemesis. i gave them a million reasons, from tangible gifts to just being a good friend. i lied, even cried. and it worked. it worked for so long and everyone loved me, called me an inspiration or some other bullshit. but it never meant anything to me. and i could never figure out why.
but now i think i know. because everything i did was crafted by my own hands, nothing they said made me feel like i had done anything right. because all i had done was manipulate them into saying what i thought to begin with. i painted myself as the protagonist and wrote other characters in to follow the plot that *i* wanted. i probably should have guessed that it wouldn't work.
sitting on the bus on the way home, when i wasn't sleeping, i realized it's not a movie. life isn't some stupid fucking fairytale, with princesses and dragons and knights in shining armor riding atop white stallions. there's no exposition, no rising action, no climax, no resolution. oh god, that's the absolute worst. no fucking resolution. it's a fucking rollercoaster and just when you think everything is gonna be okay something suddenly falls apart. your best friend leaves, your extracurriculars drive you insane, or depression threatens to drag you back down again, back into the deep dark hole you've been trying to evade for so long.
defeat is imminent and you can feel it. and you're scared. you're more scared than you've ever been. but what difference does it make if you fall? everyone will just walk past you. they'll kick you in the sides and dirt in your face. spit on you. and not even think twice about you. but what about the people who need you? what about the people who have depended on you so long and you've suddenly disappeared?
what are you supposed to do then?
Saturday, October 13, 2012
i haven't posted
in so fucking long.
but you know when there's this sort of like, unspoken connection between two people, and there are no words for it? i'm not in love, i know that. but i feel really, really close to you. and it's probably the best thing i could have right about now.
but you know when there's this sort of like, unspoken connection between two people, and there are no words for it? i'm not in love, i know that. but i feel really, really close to you. and it's probably the best thing i could have right about now.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Valentino
So I was riding my horse just last week and my trainer was talking to me about what he needed. Valentino has a tendency to bolt, or just push himself a little too hard when he doesn't need to. He's a very uptight horse and he doesn't have much of a head (but I still love him ok). It's not the most convenient thing at all, but he does run fast and that's a plus. However, if I can't control him, he's gonna sour pretty quickly.
While walking for a moment, my trainer Christian told me about Valentino. I received my horse from the stables I take the lessons at, so they were the ones who trained him. She told me that when they first started working with him, they couldn't get him to move. No matter what they tried, he was just a slowpoke, which baffled me. I cannot imagine my horse being slow. They sent him to a trainer because they were just having too much trouble with him and they had a business to run.
The two men training Valentino were supposed to keep him after they'd worked with him, but they sent him back after a while. Why? Well, to get him to go, they'd pushed him really hard, and focused on getting him to burst out of the gate, because he was trained as a roping horse. Apparently they discovered that my little man runs fast, so instead of rating him (keeping him slow), they rode up on his neck with a short rein, fighting him. So Valentino got used to being ridden like that, with a short rein, always being fought, even though they still wanted him to go fast.
When he came back to the stables, they rode him for a while, but eventually put him up for sale and to pasture. He can't be used as a lesson horse because of how touchy he is now, but there's no reason for the employees to ride him. So I've become his primary rider, and in this past lesson with him, I've learned that he's been to two extremes. Fast and slow. I'm responsible for helping him find the middle ground. And I'm not sure why, but that makes me feel really important. Well I guess I am.
I used to be the one who had trouble finding herself. And now, having to help someone else, even if it is a peabrained little gelding, means the world.
While walking for a moment, my trainer Christian told me about Valentino. I received my horse from the stables I take the lessons at, so they were the ones who trained him. She told me that when they first started working with him, they couldn't get him to move. No matter what they tried, he was just a slowpoke, which baffled me. I cannot imagine my horse being slow. They sent him to a trainer because they were just having too much trouble with him and they had a business to run.
The two men training Valentino were supposed to keep him after they'd worked with him, but they sent him back after a while. Why? Well, to get him to go, they'd pushed him really hard, and focused on getting him to burst out of the gate, because he was trained as a roping horse. Apparently they discovered that my little man runs fast, so instead of rating him (keeping him slow), they rode up on his neck with a short rein, fighting him. So Valentino got used to being ridden like that, with a short rein, always being fought, even though they still wanted him to go fast.
When he came back to the stables, they rode him for a while, but eventually put him up for sale and to pasture. He can't be used as a lesson horse because of how touchy he is now, but there's no reason for the employees to ride him. So I've become his primary rider, and in this past lesson with him, I've learned that he's been to two extremes. Fast and slow. I'm responsible for helping him find the middle ground. And I'm not sure why, but that makes me feel really important. Well I guess I am.
I used to be the one who had trouble finding herself. And now, having to help someone else, even if it is a peabrained little gelding, means the world.
Friday, August 17, 2012
i am so ridiculousy tired.
It's not even funny. This past week has literally felt like a month, waking up at six in the morning to practice music for eight hours a day, everyday. On top of that, I have to read my library books, hang out with friends so they don't think I'm neglecting them, and work out. It's so exhausting, I've gotten about 16 hours of cumulative sleep for the past week, when ideally I probably should have had like 42-48 something like that.
We push SO hard in band, and I don't feel it at the time but it when it hits, it hits hard. I went shopping with my mom today because I'm going back to school in a week. I meant to say hi to a friend because he was working but I didn't the chance because after buying jeans and a new pair of Converse I just really wanted to sit down and do nothing. We went to get lunch at Central Market after that and it was good, but after I'd eaten about half of my macaroni, I felt like I was about to fall asleep. I ate as much as I could after that, finished my tea and had my mom take me home.
I probably should take a nap or something but I've got to go back to band in about two and a half hours and I don't want to waste it. But I seriously cannot wait for marching season to end.
We push SO hard in band, and I don't feel it at the time but it when it hits, it hits hard. I went shopping with my mom today because I'm going back to school in a week. I meant to say hi to a friend because he was working but I didn't the chance because after buying jeans and a new pair of Converse I just really wanted to sit down and do nothing. We went to get lunch at Central Market after that and it was good, but after I'd eaten about half of my macaroni, I felt like I was about to fall asleep. I ate as much as I could after that, finished my tea and had my mom take me home.
I probably should take a nap or something but I've got to go back to band in about two and a half hours and I don't want to waste it. But I seriously cannot wait for marching season to end.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Running.
I decided it'll probably take me a year or two to build myself up to a marathon, so I'm starting to train for a 5k that's in September. It's kinda just like I really don't want to run but I need to be healthier and the money for this is going to a good cause and it'll be worth it when it's over. So the point is I'm starting to run and I don't know if I'm actually going to remain committed to it considering the fact that marching season lasts throughout my training. Then again I really don't march or anything, just sit outside and kind of bake in the sun, so maybe it'll work out, if I'm not too lazy.
I ate like three pieces of cheesecake earlier even though I said I was going vegan and I'm just really pissed off because I'm having a lot of trouble staying dedicated to my goals. My stomach hurts like a bitch and I kinda wanna throw up but if I do I can't go to band tonight. I don't really wanna go to band tonight..but I have to. I just do. Ughhughfhgjdfg
My mom is obsessed with running and any time I tell her about it she always harps on me to get my shit together, which is really annoying, but understandable. She likes running for a reason and wants me to understand why she loves it so much, I guess. And I feel bad whenever I don't follow through with training because she gets so excited about it, but I hate that I even got her hopes up in the first place...anyway, I told her today about the 5k I want to run in McKinney because I just need some sort of motivation. I'll start writing in my planner and making a vision board or some stupid motivational shit like that.
Okay, that's what's on my mind today. Bai guiseeee who never read my blog.
I ate like three pieces of cheesecake earlier even though I said I was going vegan and I'm just really pissed off because I'm having a lot of trouble staying dedicated to my goals. My stomach hurts like a bitch and I kinda wanna throw up but if I do I can't go to band tonight. I don't really wanna go to band tonight..but I have to. I just do. Ughhughfhgjdfg
My mom is obsessed with running and any time I tell her about it she always harps on me to get my shit together, which is really annoying, but understandable. She likes running for a reason and wants me to understand why she loves it so much, I guess. And I feel bad whenever I don't follow through with training because she gets so excited about it, but I hate that I even got her hopes up in the first place...anyway, I told her today about the 5k I want to run in McKinney because I just need some sort of motivation. I'll start writing in my planner and making a vision board or some stupid motivational shit like that.
Okay, that's what's on my mind today. Bai guiseeee who never read my blog.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
maybe i have said something that was wrong.
it's starting to hit me.
that you lied.
that you lied for so long.
"i would cry for days knowing what i had lost"
but i walked away
and you didn't even care.
like you'd never even known me.
i want to cry
but i can't make myself.
i don't know
why.
have i already cried enough?
or is there something i'm missing?
maybe i should
stop searching
for reasons to shed another tear.
but i'm never going to feel okay again.
it's starting to hit me.
that you lied.
that you lied for so long.
"i would cry for days knowing what i had lost"
but i walked away
and you didn't even care.
like you'd never even known me.
i want to cry
but i can't make myself.
i don't know
why.
have i already cried enough?
or is there something i'm missing?
maybe i should
stop searching
for reasons to shed another tear.
but i'm never going to feel okay again.
Monday, June 25, 2012
i want to marry Yu Darvish and live on the moon and be famous and have
beautiful children and i want it to rain every day and be sunny at night
because i really dont give a crap i can sleep with the windows shut. I
dont want to worry or fight and i want my friends to all live on the
moon with me in harmony. i want to sing and have the whole world feel
how i do but not the hurt. i want to make them feel my passion, not my
hurt.
-Marissa Suazo
-Marissa Suazo
Monday, May 28, 2012
ugh
there are so many things i want to do.
i want to hold your hand, to whisper sweet nothings in your ear. i want to kiss your nose and your forehead and your neck and run my fingers through your hair. i want to lay with you and curl against your body, to feel your arms around me and breathe in your smell. i want you to kiss me, i want you to touch me like no one's ever touched me and make me feel like i belong somewhere. i want to every space between us and have every point of me pressed up against you.
but i can't exactly do that, can i?
862.6
i want to hold your hand, to whisper sweet nothings in your ear. i want to kiss your nose and your forehead and your neck and run my fingers through your hair. i want to lay with you and curl against your body, to feel your arms around me and breathe in your smell. i want you to kiss me, i want you to touch me like no one's ever touched me and make me feel like i belong somewhere. i want to every space between us and have every point of me pressed up against you.
but i can't exactly do that, can i?
862.6
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
fdhsihfdsi
i hate you. i hate you i hate you i hate you.
why does everyone do
this
everyone does the
same thing
and i can't
understand.
you make me
believe one
thing,
then tell me
the opposite.
so fuck you
fuck them all
i'm
done.
people are just
liars
and i can't wait
to die.
i have so many
words for
you.
but i can't say
them
because you don't want to hear them.
oh well.
why does everyone do
this
everyone does the
same thing
and i can't
understand.
you make me
believe one
thing,
then tell me
the opposite.
so fuck you
fuck them all
i'm
done.
people are just
liars
and i can't wait
to die.
i have so many
words for
you.
but i can't say
them
because you don't want to hear them.
oh well.
Monday, May 14, 2012
there's a story at the bottom of this bottle...
i haven't written in forever.
don't think i'm about to go shakespeare on you right now, no haha.
so like today was boring as shit. and the only maybe interesting thing was cooking in eighth period. but even then i didn't really get to eat the food i had made, considering we made sloppy joes. uck. sometimes i question why i am a vegetarian, and then when i see things like THAT, i remember. hbdhifhsdf
i did watch Doctor Who today. i haven't watched that show in two weeks. that's bad. i'm a bad whovian :( but i've been busy and stressed and stuff....plus charlieissocoollike is taking up a bunch of my time ;D why am i such a faggot? i don't know.
right now...i'm having a dance party with myself. wishing that i could fuck someone, that Hunter lived down the street and that i was hot. uhm, well i am sweating...PROGRESS. oh but not really. whatever. when i went on my walk today, like three guys said something to me and another five probably checked me out..ugh. #hotgirlproblems
i wish i was a little bit taller
i wish i was a baller
i wish i had a girl who looked good
i would call her
i wish i had a rabbit in a hat
with a bat
and a six four impala
don't think i'm about to go shakespeare on you right now, no haha.
so like today was boring as shit. and the only maybe interesting thing was cooking in eighth period. but even then i didn't really get to eat the food i had made, considering we made sloppy joes. uck. sometimes i question why i am a vegetarian, and then when i see things like THAT, i remember. hbdhifhsdf
i did watch Doctor Who today. i haven't watched that show in two weeks. that's bad. i'm a bad whovian :( but i've been busy and stressed and stuff....plus charlieissocoollike is taking up a bunch of my time ;D why am i such a faggot? i don't know.
right now...i'm having a dance party with myself. wishing that i could fuck someone, that Hunter lived down the street and that i was hot. uhm, well i am sweating...PROGRESS. oh but not really. whatever. when i went on my walk today, like three guys said something to me and another five probably checked me out..ugh. #hotgirlproblems
i wish i was a little bit taller
i wish i was a baller
i wish i had a girl who looked good
i would call her
i wish i had a rabbit in a hat
with a bat
and a six four impala
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Letter to an old teacher I wrote.
Mrs Rector,
You may or may not remember me. My name is Annie Kittrell and I was a student in your EXCEL classes. I was writing to thank you. Without you as a teacher in my primary education, there would be no one there for me to properly foster my potential. Often, I think back to my younger years, before the pubescent mess we call "middle school". While nostalgia is one of the predominant emotions that I get from recalling such memories, I also have found that as I get older and more learned, my gratification for the opportunities I was given waxes.
I still vividly recall the classroom we were instructed in; the brown carpeting, the panels on the wall, the desks arranged in a large square. I remember learning about challenges, exploration and power, and one of the most prominent things that still sits in my brain is learning about law. From an early age, ever since it was introduced into the curriculum, I have been ever fascinated by the law and its practice, and while I may not become a lawyer, it still enthralls me. I remember playing Rush Hour and reading stories with holes, and laugh because now children divert their attention to iPods and TV shows.
I am left with a longing for the past, for what was once reality but now I can only dream of. I cannot bring back the days before iPods and computers and mediocre music. I cannot bring back the days when children wearing stripes with polka dots or purple on orange was socially acceptable because they are children. Times have changed and it has been a long time since I was in first, second, and third grade. I was always happy then, only the simplest of things upset me and the simplest of things would make me happy again. Now when I cry, it is for reasons deeper than not getting what I want or scraping my knee on the sidewalk. I can't fix these problems with a band-aid or an ice cream cone.
But I can smile back at the memories and here I am. I believe I have come rather far. My grades are high, making straight A's across the board (except for algebra. 89 in that class), and I'm thriving in my musical studies. My extracurricular activities include horseback riding and an avid hobby of writing, and I love what I do. I'll never be able to bring back the past, to live in the memories again, but what are memories? Are they things we have, or things we have lost? Regardless, the least I could do to comfort myself is thank those who set such a solid foundation for my education and life.
So this is my thanks to you. As a teacher you have given me the tools to gain wisdom and knowledge. You have inspired me to learn everything that I can, just for the simple joy of knowing things. Without people like you, the world would be nowhere near where it is today. I thank you so much for your dedication and for everything you have done to help the children of Watauga Elementary and beyond. Too many times teachers go by unnoticed, without thanks, and I cannot stand for one who does such amazing work to leave this world without any acknowledgement. This is my acknowledgement. Thank you, a million times thank you for everything you have done for me. Learning will always be the priority.
Sincerely,
Annie Kittrell
You may or may not remember me. My name is Annie Kittrell and I was a student in your EXCEL classes. I was writing to thank you. Without you as a teacher in my primary education, there would be no one there for me to properly foster my potential. Often, I think back to my younger years, before the pubescent mess we call "middle school". While nostalgia is one of the predominant emotions that I get from recalling such memories, I also have found that as I get older and more learned, my gratification for the opportunities I was given waxes.
I still vividly recall the classroom we were instructed in; the brown carpeting, the panels on the wall, the desks arranged in a large square. I remember learning about challenges, exploration and power, and one of the most prominent things that still sits in my brain is learning about law. From an early age, ever since it was introduced into the curriculum, I have been ever fascinated by the law and its practice, and while I may not become a lawyer, it still enthralls me. I remember playing Rush Hour and reading stories with holes, and laugh because now children divert their attention to iPods and TV shows.
I am left with a longing for the past, for what was once reality but now I can only dream of. I cannot bring back the days before iPods and computers and mediocre music. I cannot bring back the days when children wearing stripes with polka dots or purple on orange was socially acceptable because they are children. Times have changed and it has been a long time since I was in first, second, and third grade. I was always happy then, only the simplest of things upset me and the simplest of things would make me happy again. Now when I cry, it is for reasons deeper than not getting what I want or scraping my knee on the sidewalk. I can't fix these problems with a band-aid or an ice cream cone.
But I can smile back at the memories and here I am. I believe I have come rather far. My grades are high, making straight A's across the board (except for algebra. 89 in that class), and I'm thriving in my musical studies. My extracurricular activities include horseback riding and an avid hobby of writing, and I love what I do. I'll never be able to bring back the past, to live in the memories again, but what are memories? Are they things we have, or things we have lost? Regardless, the least I could do to comfort myself is thank those who set such a solid foundation for my education and life.
So this is my thanks to you. As a teacher you have given me the tools to gain wisdom and knowledge. You have inspired me to learn everything that I can, just for the simple joy of knowing things. Without people like you, the world would be nowhere near where it is today. I thank you so much for your dedication and for everything you have done to help the children of Watauga Elementary and beyond. Too many times teachers go by unnoticed, without thanks, and I cannot stand for one who does such amazing work to leave this world without any acknowledgement. This is my acknowledgement. Thank you, a million times thank you for everything you have done for me. Learning will always be the priority.
Sincerely,
Annie Kittrell
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
damn the distance
i want to talk to you. But no, I shouldn't. I mean, you led me on. Made me believe you wanted to date me and then totally screwed me over. It's not fair. Everyone does this to me, before they know me, after they know me...it doesn't matter who I am. It's not my fault, it can't be if you did this before you even got to know me any better.
We have everything in common...Mumford and Sons, Elton John, Doctor Who, sour gummy worms, it goes on and ON. We are both writers, both night owls, both damaged people. You are perfect to me and I am perfect to you...we are both perfect. But damn the distance. The one thing that could keep me from you. Damn all of the miles between us and damn the people that can talk you out of me.
What exactly did I do that was so bad? Tell me what I did. Nothing works out for me. Maybe I should probably get my priorities straight and stop worrying about my love life. But I care a whole lot about my grades and my musical studies and I don't think that I put some boy in Indiana over them, just because we were perfect together. Unfortunately, now that I've got a broken heart, it's a little harder to focus on those things.
At some point, I want to be completely happy with someone. And it pisses me off that I went off and dated Zach, because he awoke a part of me I didn't even know existed. Screw Christian, Lowell, Anthony, none of those boys were as close or important to me as Zach was/still is. And I'm not in love with him, don't get me wrong, but I still love him.
I hate that I can say that without cringing or laughing at myself. I hate that he was probably one of the most amazing people I have ever met in my life. I don't think I'm very exposed, if that's the case. God...the fact that he told me our relationship was perfect and that he wouldn't change a thing...why would he say that? That's going to torture me for the longest time.
I hate boys. I hate everything. Okaay. Bye.
We have everything in common...Mumford and Sons, Elton John, Doctor Who, sour gummy worms, it goes on and ON. We are both writers, both night owls, both damaged people. You are perfect to me and I am perfect to you...we are both perfect. But damn the distance. The one thing that could keep me from you. Damn all of the miles between us and damn the people that can talk you out of me.
What exactly did I do that was so bad? Tell me what I did. Nothing works out for me. Maybe I should probably get my priorities straight and stop worrying about my love life. But I care a whole lot about my grades and my musical studies and I don't think that I put some boy in Indiana over them, just because we were perfect together. Unfortunately, now that I've got a broken heart, it's a little harder to focus on those things.
At some point, I want to be completely happy with someone. And it pisses me off that I went off and dated Zach, because he awoke a part of me I didn't even know existed. Screw Christian, Lowell, Anthony, none of those boys were as close or important to me as Zach was/still is. And I'm not in love with him, don't get me wrong, but I still love him.
I hate that I can say that without cringing or laughing at myself. I hate that he was probably one of the most amazing people I have ever met in my life. I don't think I'm very exposed, if that's the case. God...the fact that he told me our relationship was perfect and that he wouldn't change a thing...why would he say that? That's going to torture me for the longest time.
I hate boys. I hate everything. Okaay. Bye.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Sunday, April 8, 2012
dear life,
fuck you.
seriously though. you're going to bring someone this absolutely incredible in my life, and let me talk to him until the wee hours of the morning, and make us have everything in common except our state? why would you do that to me? what sick, twisted, deity is fucking with my life? because i don't know you, you torture me? show me your good, show me the happiness i want and then i will follow you.
doctor who? yes, he likes that. alice in wonderland? he likes it too. mumford and sons? what a coincidence, he likes it too. we have the same sense of humor. we're both atheists. we both stay up waaaaay too late. we both have low self esteem. we both have been treated like crap by the opposite sex.
in addition to have everything to do with me, he's also got a few things i don't. 1) a penis, because, you know, it's hard to copulate on your own, [not really the priority, but yea] 2) the most adorable facial expressions, 3) a TARDIS, 4) he's copious amounts of intelligent, 5) he's clever, 6) he likes me.
so he makes up for everything i'm not, but i still can't date him because of fucking INDIANA. i used LIKE that state. heaven forbid i like someone without getting hurt.
so yea. fuck you, life
seriously though. you're going to bring someone this absolutely incredible in my life, and let me talk to him until the wee hours of the morning, and make us have everything in common except our state? why would you do that to me? what sick, twisted, deity is fucking with my life? because i don't know you, you torture me? show me your good, show me the happiness i want and then i will follow you.
doctor who? yes, he likes that. alice in wonderland? he likes it too. mumford and sons? what a coincidence, he likes it too. we have the same sense of humor. we're both atheists. we both stay up waaaaay too late. we both have low self esteem. we both have been treated like crap by the opposite sex.
in addition to have everything to do with me, he's also got a few things i don't. 1) a penis, because, you know, it's hard to copulate on your own, [not really the priority, but yea] 2) the most adorable facial expressions, 3) a TARDIS, 4) he's copious amounts of intelligent, 5) he's clever, 6) he likes me.
so he makes up for everything i'm not, but i still can't date him because of fucking INDIANA. i used LIKE that state. heaven forbid i like someone without getting hurt.
so yea. fuck you, life
Thursday, April 5, 2012
so i thought of something
something someone else has probably already put down in words.
on paper.
probably already inked it into society somewhere. but whatever. i don't care. i'm writing this down because i'm a fucking boss. but not really. anyway.
so i've been trying really hard lately to just be happy. and at times it's easier than others. i have high tides in my life, and low tides, and right now i'm trying not to drown in high tide. the current is sucking me in, away from shore, and all i can do is fight it. i swear, it takes the life out of me. it really does. yesterday, after i got out of the bath, i had to lay on the floor for all of five minutes because when i tried to walk, i got dizzy and nauseous.
and i guess that's what life is. you just keep swimming, through the rough waves and the calm ones. sometimes you float, but sometimes you have to chop through the water to save your life. sharks chase you, you're stupid enough to touch a jellyfish and have to piss on it--but other times it's okay. you see the beauty of the ocean. the coral reefs, the dolphins, the turtles, the immensity of the thing.
and maybe it's worth it. because without those storms, without the red tides and the rip currents, these little fish, these immense gray whales and the way the sun bends and refracts through the blue water would be nothing. we wouldn't be able to appreciate, would we? because if that was all we knew, we'd never truly grasp how beautiful and amazing it was.
but what do i know. i'm just one tiny shrimp in the great big ocean.
on paper.
probably already inked it into society somewhere. but whatever. i don't care. i'm writing this down because i'm a fucking boss. but not really. anyway.
so i've been trying really hard lately to just be happy. and at times it's easier than others. i have high tides in my life, and low tides, and right now i'm trying not to drown in high tide. the current is sucking me in, away from shore, and all i can do is fight it. i swear, it takes the life out of me. it really does. yesterday, after i got out of the bath, i had to lay on the floor for all of five minutes because when i tried to walk, i got dizzy and nauseous.
and i guess that's what life is. you just keep swimming, through the rough waves and the calm ones. sometimes you float, but sometimes you have to chop through the water to save your life. sharks chase you, you're stupid enough to touch a jellyfish and have to piss on it--but other times it's okay. you see the beauty of the ocean. the coral reefs, the dolphins, the turtles, the immensity of the thing.
and maybe it's worth it. because without those storms, without the red tides and the rip currents, these little fish, these immense gray whales and the way the sun bends and refracts through the blue water would be nothing. we wouldn't be able to appreciate, would we? because if that was all we knew, we'd never truly grasp how beautiful and amazing it was.
but what do i know. i'm just one tiny shrimp in the great big ocean.
The invention of the ship
was also the invention of the shipwreck.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
i love you.
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
so why can't i just have you?
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
i love you
so why can't i just have you?
Monday, March 26, 2012
falling through.
sometimes I imagine a place
where I run, where I crawl
but I never seem to get hurt
and I see the bees, hide under the trees
and the flowers smile at me
and I, get by, anyway
I'm okay, for now
cuz I never think of you
in my-y-y paradise
but everything comes to an end
and tragedy starts to descend
[chorus]
was I everything that you needed
everything that you ever asked for?
every place that you could run to?
the only question: did I love you?
sometimes I get so scared
my senses, my judgement impaired
and the fire eats, away at the trees
the birds screaming "help me".
and I, I cry, anyway,
not okay
and the flowers, the flowers,
they burn.
in my-y-y paradise.
[chorus]
could I have been any better
was there anything I could do?
everything is burning down
everything is falling through...
falling through...
goodbye, sunshine
goodbye, light in life
goodbye, everything
goodbye, darling [2x]
darling...
[chorus 2x]
you are everything I ever needed
everything that I could ask for
every place that I could run to
honey it's no question...I love you...
I love you...
that I love you.
where I run, where I crawl
but I never seem to get hurt
and I see the bees, hide under the trees
and the flowers smile at me
and I, get by, anyway
I'm okay, for now
cuz I never think of you
in my-y-y paradise
but everything comes to an end
and tragedy starts to descend
[chorus]
was I everything that you needed
everything that you ever asked for?
every place that you could run to?
the only question: did I love you?
sometimes I get so scared
my senses, my judgement impaired
and the fire eats, away at the trees
the birds screaming "help me".
and I, I cry, anyway,
not okay
and the flowers, the flowers,
they burn.
in my-y-y paradise.
[chorus]
could I have been any better
was there anything I could do?
everything is burning down
everything is falling through...
falling through...
goodbye, sunshine
goodbye, light in life
goodbye, everything
goodbye, darling [2x]
darling...
[chorus 2x]
you are everything I ever needed
everything that I could ask for
every place that I could run to
honey it's no question...I love you...
I love you...
that I love you.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Saturday, March 17, 2012
I'm going to be honest.
this week has probably been one of the most amazing of my life.
I spent my mornings eating breakfast in a quaint little kitchen, my noons tanning & swimming at the beach, and my evenings eating lovely dinners cooked by my family. My Tuesday was dedicated to fishing with an attractive skipper thirty miles into the Gulf, and our dinner of mackerel, kingfish, and grunt was rather gratifying. Of course shopping on Wednesday was fun -- when is shopping not fun? -- and I love gelato. The aquarium was adorable, as always, and the manatees were pretty much the most adorable thing on that trip. Swimming at my grandma's while an old leathery lady was tanning was awkward, but fun. I hate getting chlorine up my nose. And though Friday was uneventful, it was nice.
But the best part of this week were the nights. I stayed up late, until I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore, talking to him. Love? Maybe, but it doesn't really matter. It means a lot that I can stay up talking to someone, finally. It's been so long since I felt this closeness with someone. I don't know if four months is a long time in everyone's eyes but it was a slow four months, and I'm glad that they're behind me. Finally I have someone to look forward to. I don't feel so lost.
Maybe this spring break was the start of something really big.
I spent my mornings eating breakfast in a quaint little kitchen, my noons tanning & swimming at the beach, and my evenings eating lovely dinners cooked by my family. My Tuesday was dedicated to fishing with an attractive skipper thirty miles into the Gulf, and our dinner of mackerel, kingfish, and grunt was rather gratifying. Of course shopping on Wednesday was fun -- when is shopping not fun? -- and I love gelato. The aquarium was adorable, as always, and the manatees were pretty much the most adorable thing on that trip. Swimming at my grandma's while an old leathery lady was tanning was awkward, but fun. I hate getting chlorine up my nose. And though Friday was uneventful, it was nice.
But the best part of this week were the nights. I stayed up late, until I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore, talking to him. Love? Maybe, but it doesn't really matter. It means a lot that I can stay up talking to someone, finally. It's been so long since I felt this closeness with someone. I don't know if four months is a long time in everyone's eyes but it was a slow four months, and I'm glad that they're behind me. Finally I have someone to look forward to. I don't feel so lost.
Maybe this spring break was the start of something really big.
"A very small degree of hope is sufficient to cause the birth of love."Kings and Queens -- 30 Seconds to Mars
-Stendhal
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Thursday, March 1, 2012
my Heart swells as I gaze up at the stars. The Milky Way lights up my night just the way You did. only Two weeks earlier, you are head over heels in Love with Me. and now? well, now, I am not so sure. But I can Hope. I can lay in the cool spring grass and Smile, knowing that You once thought of me. Nostalgia surrounds me, a warm blanket shielding me from violent reality. delusion, perhaps, or maybe my pitiful attempt to be Happy.
let Me bathe in Your Beauty. let the water run over Me, washing away the pain I once knew. let Me Imagine your Kiss on my Lips and for one last time, let Me melt into You. cease to be two separate entities, instead being One now and Forever. I love You.
Forever.
let Me bathe in Your Beauty. let the water run over Me, washing away the pain I once knew. let Me Imagine your Kiss on my Lips and for one last time, let Me melt into You. cease to be two separate entities, instead being One now and Forever. I love You.
Forever.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
When I was younger,
I wish that I would have known better.
Better love makes a fat romance,
that lasts for more than a shoe shine.
I'm older, took all the words of my mother, saying,
It could be worse,
could be born with that disease,
instead of catching it first.
So lets go back, to the first time,
that I met you, in your Chevy,
with your hands stretched,
and me crying, screaming, Mercy. Mercy.
But I know that, I was put here, to fight Vikings
in the cold war, with my arms out,
in the front lines, singing, Dare me. Dare me.
But these things take time love.
These things take backbone.
And they'll tell you what you want to hear
cause they think its better. Better.
But you better know how to point out the liars.
You've got to weigh your wars make sure you're not fighting for nothing. Nothing.
Are you fighting for nothing?
It feels like this world has been
growing slowly upside down.
Maybe I should move to China,
and straighten this mess out.
Maybe Ill be a poet.
Watch all the sky for falling words.
And write about my grandmas curtains,
or the lady who put the Chinese buffet in her purse.
Ive got my mouth.
Its a weapon. Its a bombshell.
Its a cannon. Ive got my words.
I wont give them mercy. Mercy.
But these things take time love.
These things take backbone.
And they'll tell you what you want to hear
cause they think its better. Better.
But you better know how to point out the liars.
You've got to weigh your wars make sure you're not fighting for nothing. Nothing.
Are you fighting for nothing?
Ive got my words. I hope they hurt you.
I hope they scar you. I hope they heal you.
I hope they cut you open,
make you see you've been warring
for all the wrong reasons.
Make you see that some things are worth bruising for.
Make you see that your name is your honor code.
Make you see that your hands you're accounted for.
Pick and choose where your sweat and your blood will go.
Make you see your life's not to be lived alone.
Run their spit through your hair, you're worth nothing. Nothing.
But these things take time love.
These things take backbone.
And they'll tell you what you want to hear
cause they think its better. Better.
But you better know how to point out the liars.
You've got to weigh your wars make sure you're not fighting for nothing. Nothing.
Are you fighting for nothing?
I wish that I would have known better.
Better love makes a fat romance,
that lasts for more than a shoe shine.
I'm older, took all the words of my mother, saying,
It could be worse,
could be born with that disease,
instead of catching it first.
So lets go back, to the first time,
that I met you, in your Chevy,
with your hands stretched,
and me crying, screaming, Mercy. Mercy.
But I know that, I was put here, to fight Vikings
in the cold war, with my arms out,
in the front lines, singing, Dare me. Dare me.
But these things take time love.
These things take backbone.
And they'll tell you what you want to hear
cause they think its better. Better.
But you better know how to point out the liars.
You've got to weigh your wars make sure you're not fighting for nothing. Nothing.
Are you fighting for nothing?
It feels like this world has been
growing slowly upside down.
Maybe I should move to China,
and straighten this mess out.
Maybe Ill be a poet.
Watch all the sky for falling words.
And write about my grandmas curtains,
or the lady who put the Chinese buffet in her purse.
Ive got my mouth.
Its a weapon. Its a bombshell.
Its a cannon. Ive got my words.
I wont give them mercy. Mercy.
But these things take time love.
These things take backbone.
And they'll tell you what you want to hear
cause they think its better. Better.
But you better know how to point out the liars.
You've got to weigh your wars make sure you're not fighting for nothing. Nothing.
Are you fighting for nothing?
Ive got my words. I hope they hurt you.
I hope they scar you. I hope they heal you.
I hope they cut you open,
make you see you've been warring
for all the wrong reasons.
Make you see that some things are worth bruising for.
Make you see that your name is your honor code.
Make you see that your hands you're accounted for.
Pick and choose where your sweat and your blood will go.
Make you see your life's not to be lived alone.
Run their spit through your hair, you're worth nothing. Nothing.
But these things take time love.
These things take backbone.
And they'll tell you what you want to hear
cause they think its better. Better.
But you better know how to point out the liars.
You've got to weigh your wars make sure you're not fighting for nothing. Nothing.
Are you fighting for nothing?
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Today was a weird day.
I woke up this morning not excited to start my day in the slightest. Quickly I threw myself in the shower and used up all of the hot water before I actually started cleaning myself. There was no point to actually doing my hair (there usually never is) or looking nice, so kind of just grabbed a shirt and jeans at the last minute. As I was cooking my breakfast of eggs, I thought about how I hadn't talked to you in over 24 hours. It felt so very strange.
It wasn't that I was used to texting you all of the time, but I mean, I was used to staying up late with you and whispering sweet nothings. And to think that we hadn't done that for the past two nights unsettled me. My life has been so stressful lately, and talking to you was the only thing that relaxed me. The only thing that sent butterflies to my stomach, the only thing that made my heart sing like the little caged bird she is.
My day went on at a grueling pace, but I forced myself to go on and let myself smile even though I couldn't stop thinking of you. I couldn't stop wishing, hoping, that just maybe you would decide to text me and say I'm sorry, I love you. My phone's been dead. But of course you didn't. Anything I want or expect never happens. You must have been lying to me. It wouldn't be the first time.
I wanted so badly to believe you. I wanted to let myself fall in love with you all over again, to be the girl that your parents hated but you loved. I wanted to be your first hello, your last goodbye, and your only true love. I don't think I was though. Look at this paragraph. Every sentence starts with "I". I am so terribly selfish, aren't I?
The only thing that made my day worth even waking up to was my private lesson. Other than you, marimba is the only thing that I can lose all of my thoughts in. I pick up the mallets and play, I don't even think. It's so distracting. Drawing me away from my anger, my sadness, and highlighting the only emotion that I can control -- my happiness. The warm feelings flood me, and I disregard my mistakes, focusing only on improving throughout the song.
And then I think of you.
I drop the mallets
they land on the keyboard
with a click and clatter.
The dissonance
rings
in my ear.
I turn my head, and my hair falls over my face. My brown eyes are cloudy with tears, and the harsh practice room lighting is unflattering to my face. I feel my heart sink and my eyes sting. My throat closes up and I hiccup, feeling the sobs threatening to rack my body. And I think, I hate this. I hate crying in practice rooms. I hate crying at school. I hate myself for this. And I really do. I shouldn't be crying over a boy who just needs to grow up.
I shouldn't be crying, but I shouldn't not care. I don't think I'm so heartless as to laugh in your face when you act up. Whatever, if you're doing it for no reason, then I can just be mad at you later. But if you're doing it for a reason? I want to know why, I want to fix whatever is wrong. I want to make you laugh, and smile, and feel the happy that I always long for.
Maybe I can't. Maybe you're not fixable. Maybe you're stuck the way you are, and maybe some people hate you for that. They may hate you for how you act or how you treat people, or for that horrible temper of yours. But I don't. I could never hate you. I'm not going to say I never wished that I could, because there are times that I've been so livid with you that I could not even put into words how I wished fate to fall upon you.
But I love you, Anthony. I love your face and your eyes and every freckle on your face. I love your sweet-talking, your constant quotation of song and your questionably strange and perverted sense of humor. I love all of your little quirks and your passion when it comes to the things you love and care about. There's nothing to "fix". You're not "broken". You're a person who I love and cherish and couldn't stand to lose forever.
I want to be there for you through every step of your life. I want to be the girl you can look to and smile at, knowing she'll be there for you in your darkest days. I will be that girl. Everyone who hates you and doesn't want me to care for you can shove it. I love you and I need you in my life. Perhaps this isn't anything at all, really. Chances are that you'll come running back and we'll be happy again.
Quickly now. You're terribly late.
It wasn't that I was used to texting you all of the time, but I mean, I was used to staying up late with you and whispering sweet nothings. And to think that we hadn't done that for the past two nights unsettled me. My life has been so stressful lately, and talking to you was the only thing that relaxed me. The only thing that sent butterflies to my stomach, the only thing that made my heart sing like the little caged bird she is.
My day went on at a grueling pace, but I forced myself to go on and let myself smile even though I couldn't stop thinking of you. I couldn't stop wishing, hoping, that just maybe you would decide to text me and say I'm sorry, I love you. My phone's been dead. But of course you didn't. Anything I want or expect never happens. You must have been lying to me. It wouldn't be the first time.
I wanted so badly to believe you. I wanted to let myself fall in love with you all over again, to be the girl that your parents hated but you loved. I wanted to be your first hello, your last goodbye, and your only true love. I don't think I was though. Look at this paragraph. Every sentence starts with "I". I am so terribly selfish, aren't I?
The only thing that made my day worth even waking up to was my private lesson. Other than you, marimba is the only thing that I can lose all of my thoughts in. I pick up the mallets and play, I don't even think. It's so distracting. Drawing me away from my anger, my sadness, and highlighting the only emotion that I can control -- my happiness. The warm feelings flood me, and I disregard my mistakes, focusing only on improving throughout the song.
And then I think of you.
I drop the mallets
they land on the keyboard
with a click and clatter.
The dissonance
rings
in my ear.
I turn my head, and my hair falls over my face. My brown eyes are cloudy with tears, and the harsh practice room lighting is unflattering to my face. I feel my heart sink and my eyes sting. My throat closes up and I hiccup, feeling the sobs threatening to rack my body. And I think, I hate this. I hate crying in practice rooms. I hate crying at school. I hate myself for this. And I really do. I shouldn't be crying over a boy who just needs to grow up.
I shouldn't be crying, but I shouldn't not care. I don't think I'm so heartless as to laugh in your face when you act up. Whatever, if you're doing it for no reason, then I can just be mad at you later. But if you're doing it for a reason? I want to know why, I want to fix whatever is wrong. I want to make you laugh, and smile, and feel the happy that I always long for.
Maybe I can't. Maybe you're not fixable. Maybe you're stuck the way you are, and maybe some people hate you for that. They may hate you for how you act or how you treat people, or for that horrible temper of yours. But I don't. I could never hate you. I'm not going to say I never wished that I could, because there are times that I've been so livid with you that I could not even put into words how I wished fate to fall upon you.
But I love you, Anthony. I love your face and your eyes and every freckle on your face. I love your sweet-talking, your constant quotation of song and your questionably strange and perverted sense of humor. I love all of your little quirks and your passion when it comes to the things you love and care about. There's nothing to "fix". You're not "broken". You're a person who I love and cherish and couldn't stand to lose forever.
I want to be there for you through every step of your life. I want to be the girl you can look to and smile at, knowing she'll be there for you in your darkest days. I will be that girl. Everyone who hates you and doesn't want me to care for you can shove it. I love you and I need you in my life. Perhaps this isn't anything at all, really. Chances are that you'll come running back and we'll be happy again.
Quickly now. You're terribly late.
Monday, February 20, 2012
mhm.
They don't know about us. They don't hear the words we whisper in the wintry February air. They don't see the veiled kisses we slip in the dark of twilight. They will never feel what we feel, the pull that tugs our hearts from miles apart. Never will they grip the unbending circumstances of our love.
Their snide remarks have grown banal. They judge us like they know you and me, but they don't. Perhaps that is the ground of their hate; what they cannot comprehend, they fear and despise. They are filled with qualm when something they cannot manipulate arises from the ashes of the fire they have set.
But it doesn't matter to me. Not a care in the world belongs to these imbeciles who believe they can give the verdict on our feelings. Maybe you're lying to me, maybe I'm lying lying to myself. That's for us to find out, not anyone else. Let them have their opinions, but keep their poison out of my drink.
You are the song and dance of the butterflies that flutter through my stomach. Your words are candied like the little chocolates I so often crave. And your eyes are a lovely shade of turquoise, so deep I swim in them. Your voice is the trickle of water in my driest of springs. Your arms are the grove of trees that cut through the biting winter wind.
And I love you with every fiber of my being. Every little cell stops its function just to flash you a smile, and how I manage to survive seeing, I will never know. Perhaps it is the love that keeps my heart beating, my body warm, and the air in my lungs. Love is the closest thing we have to magic, isn't it?
You kill me with your beauty, but it is your love that keeps me breathing.
Their snide remarks have grown banal. They judge us like they know you and me, but they don't. Perhaps that is the ground of their hate; what they cannot comprehend, they fear and despise. They are filled with qualm when something they cannot manipulate arises from the ashes of the fire they have set.
But it doesn't matter to me. Not a care in the world belongs to these imbeciles who believe they can give the verdict on our feelings. Maybe you're lying to me, maybe I'm lying lying to myself. That's for us to find out, not anyone else. Let them have their opinions, but keep their poison out of my drink.
You are the song and dance of the butterflies that flutter through my stomach. Your words are candied like the little chocolates I so often crave. And your eyes are a lovely shade of turquoise, so deep I swim in them. Your voice is the trickle of water in my driest of springs. Your arms are the grove of trees that cut through the biting winter wind.
And I love you with every fiber of my being. Every little cell stops its function just to flash you a smile, and how I manage to survive seeing, I will never know. Perhaps it is the love that keeps my heart beating, my body warm, and the air in my lungs. Love is the closest thing we have to magic, isn't it?
You kill me with your beauty, but it is your love that keeps me breathing.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Sunday, January 29, 2012
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