Uncomfortable.

Let's try that writing everything I think down excercise again right now, because I'd like to find out what I'm thinking today.

He's sitting and I never see his face anymore and I dont want to look and when i do theres his face and his heads kind of dispraportionate looking today i wonder if it always was or maybe its the shape of his hair that changes how his face looks but i dont really know why i even care and then my arm and i held it after and i missed him and walking i felt it again and i could remeber the day i forgot and there were so many but it was so long ago i shouldnt care anymore and i dont want to but i want to keep caring and i remembered the snow and the black and pink stripes and the cold which i love i love winter and the cold felt nice on my face as usual and he was there with me we were climbing and falling and running back when i was more than he was. And now hes cold and hes warm and its like hes my edward or something stupid like that like in the book cause hes cold and hes HOT like him hes soo hot but i dont actually like him but i want him and its all opposite like two different worlds but i guess theyre different people and after that class i never wanted to let go and i didnt know what id be listening but im so pathetic that clinging on like that felt nice and i want to be able to do that all the time and i want to curl up and hide inside someone else who isnt me because i hate when i hide but i cant come out because im too stupidly shy for an extrovert. And i really should make a bit of an effort to use proper grammar and sentences here but it wont work and it wont be real and i already knew all this and i was going to make  a poem or something arsty trying to say how i felt but im so mixed up and im lonely and i dont know how i feel and this isnt helping at all and i just want to wrap up inside and be warm and happy like the magazines ha ha i hate how people say im like that im not at all i never would be is it so horrible im starting to kind of like the way i look im so stressed i should be doing homework i need to find out how i feel but my brain's developping and im confused and lost inside my own head and im trying to rip out of my skin and show everyone who i am but i guess if my body doesnt want me to show them me maybe they aerent worth showing after all they probably wouldnt understand god i hate drama class. Wheres my family no ones home but im so happy it worked and that was the only one that ever mattered and the only one that ever came true and im so glad they love eachother again as far as i know but im so happy that that prayr came true and theyre amazing and hi mom i have to go.

Polar Opposites

Now that's quite interesting.

He's skinny.

He's strong.

He's fairly unattractive.

He's HOT.

He's unathletic.

He's a black belt.

He's a little nerdy.

He goes to an adult learning centre.

He makes me sad.

He makess me want to jump on him.

Some fairly startling differences.

I'm confused. How am I supposed to compete with all the people you love? And I KNOW you love them more than me, because you love them both ways and me only one. And I know you're not trying to and I know you don't know this, but I'm starting to be pushed off to the side. And I don't know how I'm supposed to make you love me as much as them, because you don't love me the other way, and I don't WANT you to love me the other way either. I guess I'm just not as interesting as them, then. Well, I'm trying not to be hurt or jealous, but I'm failing. And I'm afraid that it'll always be like this, and I really really HATE writing this, because I don't want to make things more difficult, but I just want to know what I'm supposed to do to make up for the fact that I'm not as good as they are. Because trust me, I want to be better to you.

"You're gone, so move on; it's time we let things go.

You're gone, so move on; it's time we let things go.

You're gone, so move on."

-Hedley, Can't Go Back

I always always loved that part. Three lines near the end of a song, never repeated. A little filler stuck in for no apparent reason. It sticks out, a bump in a smooth line. The voice becomes a scratchy whisper, scarily similar to his stupid teenage boy rough, sore-troat, pre-pubescent voice. If I squish my headphones far enough into my ears, I can pretend he's whispering and telling me to let go, like he knows and like he cares about this. And it's not unhealthy at all. If I play back that part of the song over and over again, squishing my headphones in my ears, the message starts to get through. It's going somewhere. Finally.

Covered in layers

My pants are too long.

The waist is too loose.

My shirts are too short.

My tank tops too big.

The shoulders are too baggy.

My shoes are too tight.

I'm constantly adjusting my clothing, because nothing fits me but my skin.

Greedy

Do it again and again and again.

I want you all to shake things in my face, and to push me by the back, and to hold on to my shoulders each and every day, thanks.

I want you all to look around and stare and to hold doors open and to smile at me.

I want you all to find a way to combine yourselves in to one person who I can wrap myself up in and roll around inside and feel perfectly warm and safe and happy with.

That's all, thanks guys. ;)

Proper Speculation

If there's a giant hole. With raggedy pockmarked edges around it. And every single little broken part of the edges that are left is being completely consumed in order to fulfill one purpose. And then there's no part of the surface that isn't busy with something. What happens when there's nothing left over?

What happens if the surface develops nerves? And it now has the ability to feel? The edges are all in pain, but they're so concentrated on the task that they love and will never stop doing, they don't notice. And what if from the giant piece in the middle comes a strange twinge. Like wherever that piece has gone, it's hurting. Or feeling.

What if a new job comes up, that's really only properly meant for the main missing piece? What if the missing piece is the only one that can do it properly? But it's not there, it's far away, busy doing something that makes it hurt and feel. what happens to that job?

Would the edges try and take on the new job on top of what they already do? Or would they discard it, hoping that some day the main piece would come back, still doing it's old job, and continue on wholly and healthily like it should?

What if instead of the missing piece coming back, the ragged edges start to grow and expand towards the middle? What if they grow in and fix the missing hole? But if they fixed it, the new skin would be harder and tougher to break, unless some incredibly powerful force came along and took it for it's own, and gave it a whole new wonderful job?

What if there wasn't a job amazing enough for the tough new skin to let in? Then what would happen?

Math Class Revelations

If I'm sitting here, and you're sitting there

And I'm listening to songs, that make me want to be there too

And it feels like I'm already there

But I'm not

Then somethings not quite balancing.

And if something of mine is over there

Then how much of me is left over here

And how much of whats left over here is being used

To go elsewhere

To everyone else.

If what's not over there is here, and what's here is elsewhere

How much of my heart is left over to love myself?

Nonononononononono.

I can't even bring myself to think the word.

Even though we're all thinking it.

Come back soon Sarah.

Please tell me you'll come back and that you're not already gone.

Don't do it.

Please.

You wouldn't want to do that to us.

I can't imagine you doing it.

You aren't that kind of person.

No offense, but I didn't think you'd be that brave.

Don't do it, wherever you are.

Please, please, please.

STOP IT

This is terrible! She's completely missing!!! STOP MAKING ME HAPPY AND SAD AT THE SAME TIME! SHUT UP JL IM OVER YOU!!! IM WORRIED ABOUT SARAH!!

Holyholyshitcrapcrapshitfuckgahhhrrghh....

I think this is called a dither-spaz.

I love you JL, I need you back Sarah, don't do it, I love you Jamie, don't do it Sarah, keep talking, come back Sarah.

Twisted

She's gone, vanished, missing, I have no idea what happened to her.

She wouldn't ACTUALLY do it, would she?

She WOULDN'T.

Oh crap crap crap crap I'm so worried.

BUT I'm such a twisted person, because because of all this,

He's talking to me.

SARAH WHERE ARE YOU???!!!

Leters, and Run-On Sentences

Dear her,
You're one of the nicest people I know. You're friendly and smart and we have amazing times together. You have some sort of intense talent for putting everyone at ease and making friends super easily. I'll admit it makes me a tiny bit jealous sometimes, especially when you're talking to the hottest jujitsu instructor on the planet, but you have a right to use your talent. You don't mind me when I'm being weird or not entirely pulling my weight on a project, and you never criticize, just remind me gently. I never want to lose your friendship like what happened with the others, and I'll try extra hard because you hold infinite value to me. You are simply amazing, and I will never forgive myself for going along with what we did in grade six. I will never forget that, don't worry, I've learned my lesson, and I am so, so sorry, I love you.

Dear him,
We haven't really talked about what happened, and I'm sure we never will. I don't know how I feel about all that. You seem to be a fairly simple guy, so I'm sure you have it all worked out anyways. I would love it if you decided to talk to me once and a while, but I'd understand if you didn't. I'm pretty sure it;s been the end of us, but you never know. I hope you have a good life, please don;t forget about me, (even though you probably will). If I may suggest something, I think you could try and be a bit more friendly occasionally, because you can be very heart breakingly cold at times, and I don't want you to inadvertently hurt someone the way you did me. You are spectacularly gay looking, and if you are, that's okay. Try to ignore what people say behind your back, they're all just jealous that you're friends with their girlfriends. I love you, in what way, I'm not really sure.

Dear her,
I honestly have to say I don't know what to write here. We are the weirdest, coolest people out there, and have too many inside jokes to count. Please try and remember you're an amazing beautiful person, and no matter what happens, you always will be. None of this crap that's happening to you is your fault, don't take it out on yourself, you know it doesn't help. I suppose we're scarily similar, but don't worry, we definitely don't always share the same opinions. Will you do me a favor sometime though, and ask me what I think about something? Because I promise if you do that I will actually tell you the truth. I'm afraid of doing it on my own sometimes, because I'm afraid you'll disagree with me profoundly, and get mad, and I really don't want to lose you. Sometimes it feels like you don't want me anymore, but I'm hoping it's not really like that, and you're just preoccupied. Even if I'm never am any help when you have problems, it doesn't mean you shouldn't tell me, because just sometimes I might know how you feel, kay? Even if I'm no help, you can always confide in me and share a bit of the load. Sometimes, I'll admit I get kind of annoyed with you, but it's usually for something little and stupid, so don't worry, I'll still love you no matter what.
PS: If you really want me to be a rock, I can be if you want. ;)

Dear her,
You are so freakishly sweet, you know that? But don't be too nice. It's okay to disagree with me and have your own opinion, I like when you come out of that shell. And please, NEVER hide your accomplishments, kay? If you do amazing on a test, or sketch something entirely pro, you deserve all the praise you get, don't be ashamed, everyone will be happy for you. I hate hearing you diss your own accomplishments, not only because you deserve the praise, but it gets a teeny bit frustrating. You're so caring, but care about yourself as well as everyone else. I certainly love you, don't worry.

Dear him,
You, I must say, are slightly creepy. It's one thing to comment on all my facebook photos, but to comment on my friend's facebook photos? You've never even met her!! Though you are quite funny, and you can be very sweet. You make me feel good about myself, if slightly uncomfortable sometimes too. I guess I love you somewhat, you freaking Asian Canadian you.

I wish I had more than two people to write about here.
I guess technically I do, they just don't annoy make me want to strangle them fucking b- frustrate me as much.
It's not like anyone reads this anyways.
Who cares.
Who cares about them.
Well, I at least care about one.
Wish I could be honest.
I wish I could just say how I felt directly.
That's what my photo was about.
It was pretty obvious.
Fuck.

>: (

Rude, annoying, self-obsessed, overly dramatic.

Music Lessons

There's a song that makes me think of you.

It's not a love song.  It's not a hate song. It's not about missed chances or complete rejection.  It's not about lies, or the truth. It's not about rumors, and whispers, or twisted words. Not a happy song. Not a sad song. Not a heartbreak song. It's not light or heavy or deep or quirky or unique or boring. It's not about me and it's not about you.

It's about none of those things and all of them at the same time, and I'm finding that it's looking like every song I hear makes me think of you.

Unfortunate.

Unfortunately, I have people who love me more than you.

And they give a shit about my feelings.

Unfortunately, no one in the world knows what I'm talking about.

And I know they wont figure it out.

It's too bad that you're doing this just to make yourself feel better.

Especially since I know you're just jealous.

Unfortunately, if I wanted to I could explain.

But I know very few people would understand.

Urgh.

I started to type a blog post. But I didn't finish it, and I knew I wouldn't post it, even if it was all true.

I Understand.

I think I know now what it felt like to be her.

A rock. I'm a rock. I'm the happy person. The happy person who signs on to msn and gets three people talking to her about their problems. But that's okay. Because I'm a rock.

I'm smooth. And hard. And stable. I don't cause any problems. But I don't help them either.

I don't do anything at all. I just let people pour their problems over top of me and endure them, never complaining, just silently being there and listening.

I never ever speak up. I never get fed up. Because I'm sturdy and smooth and blank as a rock. I don't cause trouble. I don't stick out. I blend in and go unnoticed in my blankness.

Are rocks allowed to be colourful? Sometimes.

Are rocks allowed to get up and dance? Not possible.

Can a rock fly? Never.

Are rocks allowed to have demons? Not a chance.

Can a rock feel unappreciated? No, that's what they live for.

Is a rock alive? No.

I. AM. NOT. A. ROCK.

kthx.

Drowning.

It's spinning round and round like some kind of infinite whirlpool in the ocean we're all floating in.

Sometimes people get trapped in it, and sometimes they manage to get themselves out, and sometimes they're sucked to the bottom.

I'm standing on a little island near the mouth, fairly content with my life. Sometimes the rocks get splashed and become slippery, but I'm hanging on okay.

From where I am, I have a perfect view of all the people in the giant whirlpool. 

Some of them I know well and love, some of them I hardly know at all.

I'm standing here watching them get trapped.

I'm screaming out for them to fight the current and stay afloat, I'm trying to encourage them all, but all I can give them is words.

All I want is a hook, or a life raft, or a giant net, something tangible I can give them to hold on to so I can pull them back out to where I am.

But I'm looking around and I'm alone on my little island, it's just me and my words and my thoughts and my feelings, and there's no tool for me to pick up and use to fish anyone out.

And I'm too scared to dive in after them, because I know it wouldn't work at all, because I would just end up being trapped as well, and you could say at least we'd be together, but then both of us would be too preoccupied by our own problems to help the other, and then who would we have to try and fish us out?

So I end up standing here and watching, and calling out to them but sometimes I think they can't hear me, and all I want is something to physically reach out and scoop people up with, but I'm starting to think that that doesn't exsist.

I Lie

I like to pretend I'm a bad liar. Because that way no one expects me to lie. And I'll admit, I'm not so good at the little white ones. But when it comes to the big important lies, the excuses, avoiding the truth, twisting my own words, there I must admit I'm quite pro.

I've never been caught out.

But I kind of want to be.

FUCK.

ARRRGHHH FUCK YOU JUST LET ME FUCKING TELL YOU HOW MUCH I WANT TO SCREAM AT YOU SOMETIMES. IM TIRED OF TRYING TO HELP YOU WHEN YOU OBVIOUSLY DONT GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ME.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.

I LOVE YOU YOU SHITTY PIECE OF BAGGAGE.

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday to you, I hope it's amazing because you deserve it, even if you did forget about me.
Enjoy being 15, and please just go get a girlfriend. If I were you I'd ask MR. She did call you Sugar Lips...

Simply put, I miss you.

I'm not going to be poetic or creative. I'm not going to be artistic or interesting. Because it's so hard for me to even think about anything that's not you. And I know I'm back at the top off the "cliff", and that I've climbed back up hear and used all that effort just to drag myself upright again. But that doesn't mean that I'm not still in love with you. It doesn't mean I don't still dream about your face or think about you. It doesn't mean that I don't jump when people say your name. It doesn't mean that I don't want to scream when people ask me about you. It doesn't mean that I don't still feel like there are pieces of me lost in the corner of math class where you're sitting. And I find it so pathetic how listening to only a couple of songs about missing someone completely broke me down. But it's so UNFAIR. I thought you were my friend. And maybe it's all my fault. Maybe I should never have changed. Maybe if I had stayed that painfully shy timid girl around you this would never have happened. Maybe that would've kept you saying "Hi," to me in the halls. I really really really really really really miss you. Tomorrow is your birthday. But I've already given you everything I had, and you didn't like it.

A Story

I remember looking over the edge off the cliff. I was standing a bit too far back to properly see what was under it and how big the fall was. I'd walked up closer to the edge before, but I'd always sort of given up halfway there and turned back. We were all standing around somewhere at the top. And then the brave ones started to move closer and closer to the edge, until they either jumped off as fast as they could, or gradually eased themselves over the sides. Soon there were fewer and fewer people standing with me. "It's okay," they said, "we don't want to jump either, we're safe up here, you can stay with us." But I remember they were wrong and I had always wanted to know what it would be like off the edge, and all I wanted to do was run and jump off, but I couldn't do it because I was so scared, and I thought that I was supposed to be like all the stay-behinders and that that was who I was supposed to be like. But then I heard him calling to me from over the edge, and I'd never heard anyone calling to me from over there before. It was so new and different and exciting, and I felt like that was what I was and what I should be, and that the voice was exactly who I was and what I wanted. And I looked back at the stay-behinders and they looked at me and couldn't understand how I would want to go with the voice, because it was so unlike everyone else and so unique, and no one else thought it sounded very nice at all. But I remember how it didn't matter anymore and so I ran as fast as I could and sprinted towards the edge and I was so excited for what would come next because I was so happy. But I miscalculated my footing and instead of jumping off I slipped slighty andd started to panick. I tried to get my footing back and stay on the cliff but all I could do was grab on to the edge with one hand. I was dangling there, half-holding on blowing in the wind. And I heard the stay-behinders telling me to come back, saying that I wasn't allowed to hang in between, I had to pick. They said if I let go now I would only get hurt, because I was too close to the cliff to be picked up safely. But I could still hear the voice and it was calling to me even more now and I wanted to let go so badly, and it told me it would catch me no matter what, and that my friends would help me, but even thinking about it made me scared. And then I heard someone else come up to the edge of the cliff, and I looked and saw some of the stay-behinders and they were really mad at me. They said, "We're tired of your indesicion, you're not allowed to be in the middle!" And then one of them raised their foot and stepped down on my fingers with a big crunch and forced me to let go. At first the fall was amazing, and I'll always remember how exhilerating it was, how wonderful it felt to go after the voice finally and for a minute I even thought he would reach down and sweep me up. But the wind changed and the voice still sounded beutiful but it was harsh and angry, and I flipped in the air and hit my head against the rocks. I kept banging into them, bouncing against the side of the cliff, leaving small pieces of myself behind. And then I blacked out. I opened my eyes and I was at the very bottom of the cliff, looking up at the biggest flight of stairs I had ever seen. There was someone down there with me, but I couldn't tell who it was. They told me I had to climb back to the top and either stay there or keep trying again. I was crying because I didn't want to go all the way back to the top, it looked really hard, and I definately didn't want to jump again. But the person told me I'd be okay, and that the climb was a lot easier near the end. I asked them about all the little pieces of me stuck to the side of the cliff, but the person shook their head sadly and said no, I'd have to pick those up on my way down next time, if I ever felt like jumping again. And then the person left me alone at the bottom of the cliff. I sat there for a while, before half heartedly starting to walk up the stairs. It was harder than anything, but I wanted to keep going because I knew it would get easier. I passed by all my little pieces that had gotten stuck, and I looked at them all so I remembered which ones they were. And the mysterious person was right, it did get easier as I climbed, but I still looked back sometimes because I thought I could hear the voice calling me back very faintly, and even though sometimes I slipped, I kept going even if it was so slowly no one could tell. And now I'm standing back on the top of the cliff. An I'm still missing the little bits of me I lost on my first jump, but if I ever bring up the courage I think I might try and go get them.

Time travelling dreams

I was sitting in a movie theater. I turn to look who I'm sitting next, and it's J. I say hi, and he says, "What, are you going to like ask me out or something?" in a very unpleasant way. I shout, "NO!" and start yelling at him. I tell him he's arrogant and cruel and all I ever wanted was to be his friend, and he even liked me as a friend too, until suddenly we don't see each other anymore, so apparently now he wont talk to me. I tell him how stupid that is, and at one point I start to cry and say, "But I loved you!". He looks kind of sympathetic now, and he says, "I don't know... I feel--" and then he's cut off.
We're outside and I get in to his car. We sit in the backseat in silence until we get to this mansion which is his house. He says "We have to cover our skin when we're outside here, or they'll see us." So we get out of the car and he piles all these clothes on top of me so my skin isn't showing. We walk in to the house and take the extra clothes off. Suddenly, there's this weird maid person with a butcher's knife. J says, "Oh no! They're not really people, they just want to kill us!"
So we're running around trying not to be murdered, when the evil maid catches me in the kitchen. I try to grab her knife away, but I can't so I kick her in the arm. She drops it and I catch the blade, but it doesn't cut my hand. Then I go find J and protect him from all these ghost people who keep popping up and trying to murder us. He says thank you, and gives me a really tight hug. He says, "In another time."
I blink and I'm standing on my front porch, alone. I look across the street and a guy has just appeared, lying in the grass. It doesn't look anything, like J, but I know it's him. I run over and somehow I know he's dying, so I hug him really tightly and kiss his neck. He tells me he loves me. Then this random guy shows up, and grabs a hold of the guy that is J, and takes him away. J says, "In another time," again.

Scars.

When you ignored me, I brushed my face.
When you touched me, I healed.
Waiting for you to answer, I scratched the surface.
When you didn't, I bled.
When we laughed together, I healed again.
When I heard, I gouged.
Letting myself hope, I sealed up again.
Hearing the last words, it ran down my face.
Living again, I'm starting to heal.
But when I remember, there's blood with the tears on my face.

And the saddest part, is this isn't a metaphor. It's the truth.

A letter.

Hi.
You may have forgotten who I am by now. I asked you about the math questions last night, remember? Ah, yes, that's good. Well, thing is, I already had the math questions. And I wasn't planning on doing my math homework anyways. And, well, all those conversation you had with Sarah? She was relaying everything you said back to me. Yes, everything. Does that make you uncomfortable? Does it make you feel awkward? You know what I'm thinking about, don't you. Yes, I'm thinking about that little tiny comment you made. Are you aware I haven't told a single person about that? I can't BEAR the humiliation of anyone else knowing you said that. It was about six words I think. Each one was like you were peeling away little pieces of my heart. You had no idea, did you? You have no idea how much you've damaged me. I don't see how anyone else could be so emotionally destroyed by six words relayed to her over MSN by someone she didn't even like. Even the fact that Sarah heard you say that makes me want to go die of hurt and mortification. Even the fact that Sarah still gets to talk to you everyday, because she never made the mistake of loving you more than you liked her.

Thanks, Andrea.

Maybe I'm bi-polar?

Not quite sure. Or maybe I suffer from multiple personalitly disorder?
Please excuse the bad-tempered one.

Hello?

Could you please atleast TRY and pretend to be a nice person? Can you ATTEMPT to care about what I'm saying? Or are you too wrapped up in your little self-obsessed world to even care about anyone other than yourself? I'm trying here, I really am. I'm trying to SHOW you how to be thoughtful. I'm caring about what your saying, and helping you and listening, trying to get you to realise how you should be towards me. Especially after everything I've done for you, but you've forgotten all about. Can you please try and realise that you're not supposed to treat me like she treats you?

UGH sometimes I really, really HATE you. You have no idea at all, do you? You have NO CLUE. Sometimes when I'm mad, instead of showing you how you should be, I show you how you are right now. And I can TELL it pisses you off. You get mad at me for showing you what you're like. And you're REFUSING to look at yourself and see what you're doing. Maybe you're not eve that selfish, maybe you honestly don't know what you're doing. In that case, isn't it practically my DUTY to tell you? But I CAN'T DO THAT, OKAY? I CAN'T. Because for some reason I CARE about you and love you and I don't think you'd understand, and I think you would HATE me. And for some reason, I don't want to lose you, okay? So I'm not going to tell you. Which I guess makes me selfish, too, for choosing to keep you, and let you continue on this way.

Maybe we're all selfish, and there's something wrong with ME, for being compassionate and for CARING about you, even when I try and pretend I don't. For agreeing with you when you make me feel SO BAD about myself that I just want to go curl up and sob. When you make me feel that way, I say, "Of course," and "Yes, you're probably right," or I blow it off. Because if I burst into tears, you would blow me off, and if I defended myself, you would just put me down even more.

WHY am I always loving the people who hardly care about me at all? You obviously don't.


Now I wish I could say that to your face.

Confusiosity.

I... do not know what to write about.
Even though... I think... I feel like writing a blog post?
Maybe I should write about.... my photo?
This one really does mean something... to me, at least.
I'm... not sure.