RAWR! (having myself a spazz)

Has no one told you she's not breathing, Hello, it's your mind, giving you someone to talk to, Hello http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9MHGtlEYZBA (No does belong to me, nope nope nope! Evanescence's 'Hello')
AHHHH! Okay, that song up there ^ yes, that one! GUESS WHAT! I'm figuring out how to play the piano part! Now my main instrument is violin, and so I guess that's why I'm so excited about this...
BUT HOLY CRAP!!! YESES! After this I shall figure out the strings part in it. Then maybe I'll take vocal lessons. HAHAHA, yeah right. No one will ever be able to teach me to sing. But I'm still really excited to be learning this! Who needs instructors when you've got the internet, lol. I know nothing about piano and yet  I'M STILL ABLE TO PLAY THIS!!! I dunno if it's supposed to be simple, but I'm guessing it is because I'm finding it pretty easy, except for the fact that my hands aren't that big so sometimes, where other people jus have to stretch a finger, I have to move my hand... -.- BUT STILL! I feel like a little kid on Christmas, lol. Why does this make me so happy? I'm gonna go practice some more. Hello. I mean, goodbye, I'm going to practice Hello.

The Olympics

Hey! You, we can turn it up! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oyX53nhUazA (Hey You by Tokio Hotel. No does own anything except my opinion.) I was singing this, well, screaming this at the TV whilst watching my fav sport I mention.
Yeah, so half of everyone is probably talking about the Olympics, and I've been watching the 8-12 thing, catching(keeping?) up and feeling like a potato because I'm sitting on my couch on my computer, doing nothing, while they've been busting their asses for who knows how long, getting into shape and making people like me feel like a potato. But I'm not gonna re-cap every damn thing, or give my opinion on this, that, and the other thing, because I doubt anyone really want to read this. If anyone even reads this blog anyway.
The things I've been watching closer than others were/are gymnastics, swimming, and track. Track makes me feel horrible about myself because they go down the 100 meters in like nine seconds and I take like, what? 30-40 seconds? I dunno. I only record my mile, which is back down to 8 minutes. But the only reason I really do track is for the sport I've been watching the closest of all.
Soccer. I've been in soccer since, what? Kindergarten? Maybe 1st grade. So I'm not the earliest of starters, but I've loved this sport for over half my life, and I'm really hoping that I can make the soccer team at Centreville when spring rolls around(The stupid school doesn't do fall soccer, I have to play travel). I doubt I'm actually any good, but my mom thinks so(hahaha, when did I start listening to her?!). But anyway, the last two Women's Olympic soccer games have been heart attack inducing. The Border Wars had me screaming loud enough to make the neighbors uncomfortable, but I didn't really care. And then the Finals. Redemption for the world championships. I was hoping they would freaking steamroll the Japanese. Don't get me wrong, I love them(and their accents) to death, I mean, I even want to learn Japanese(mostly because of anime and Kalafina[that was because of anime too, so I guess all because of anime,lol.]). But I am American and with my soccer experience... damn. Anyway, so I watched them today, screaming and running and punching stuff and singing songs to get their game on(oh, only if they'd heard me), and freaking out in the end. I went totally ape-shit. I'm sure the neighbors hate me now, with the amount of screaming I did. I had one moment where I was like, why the hell would you do that?!(when they took Megan Rapinoe out. She's awesome. I love her.) Abby Wambach didn't have any huge moments in this game, but she still did amazing. Carli Lloyd though... I was like "You go girl! Kick their asian asses!" I sounded so freaking racist... What can I say, the Olympics bring out my competitors spirit. And then the Japanese put a different player on the field, a player whose last name was Tanaka(not sure if I spelled that right), but that reminded me of Black Butler and I laughed. And at Ohno. But of course I would. And at the end, I really wanted to jump through the TV, to land in Wemberly Stadium, to be there with our team, celebrating our medal. I'm sure I'm not the only one. I was singing and dancing around and laughing in relief. These girls play some amazing soccer. No joke. Sometimes I wonder if there is any way I will ever be anywhere close to their level of skill. They're all so fucking amazing, and the way they work together is beautiful. One day I will be able to watch them play, or, here comes a wild dream that will probably not come anywhere near true, possibly play with them. Or at least meet them, that would be neat, too.
One thing that is confusing me (It doesn't have anything to do with the soccer, I'll get back to that in a second) is the number of times I have heard Firework by Katy Perry. It's cropping up every fucking where in the Olympics. I'm sitting here, half paying attention to Women's Diving and there it is again... I mean seriously?! Is there anything else you can play? Maybe some rock music, or foreign music(it amuses me, and I actually like half of it)...
I feel like I need an editor for these. Is my grammar correct? Are you supposed to put the punctuation before or after parentheses?
Urg, my neck hurts, and my ear hurts and my turtles need water and I gotta pack up my brothers room tomorrow... yuck.
The Olympics also bring Hetalia jokes and comments spewing out of me.
I'm jumping around all over the place, lol.
Back to soccer. I've seen some really talented kids, not as skilled as the US team, but good enough to make me think they could end up in it. I realize that when I'm at the right age requirement to play with them, if, by some miracle, I meet the skill requirements, most of the current players are probably gonna be gone. I still really want to meet them. Will they all still be together for the next widely publicized soccer event? Next Olympics? I dunno but I love them. If, by some weird, totally impossible chance, any of them read this(hahaha, why am I even including this? They aren't gonna come across this.) I am sorry that I cussed so much in this post, I really shouldn't while mentioning such amazing people. I didn't specifically mention all of them, or any of their amazing plays, and if you want to see some amazing moves, go watch it yourself. I probably should have, and I planned to mention that first, like, choreographed, goal, to show I actually know what I'm talking about instead of rambling on, but hey, you get what you paid for. And I should mention each and every one of them individually because they all deserve it, but I'm lazy. Yeah, sorry about that. So now, I'm going to leave this blog thing to cyberspace, hope no one kills anyone over that (hahaha, this isn't read enough for anything like that to happen), and go dream about possibly meeting even one of these most amazing athletes. 決別 

Torn Away

Just a normal day, streets turned into graves. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0af8jPTFDTQ (Forgotten Children by Tokio Hotel. This song gives me chills every time)

Errm, well this is a poem I just wrote out of nowhere. After the diamond, the weird shapes you see are supposed to be a bottle, and then after that, a genie lamp.

Yeah, I fail, deal with it. Constructive criticism would be much appreciated.

What happens when a child grows up too fast?

Matures prematurely?

Forced to do so by events

One or several

Life changing

What happens when a child grows up too fast?

No time left to play

No time left to be a child

Un-realized

Dreams dead

What happens when a child grows up too fast?

Dreams left to falter

Dreams no longer possible

Forced to grow

And take over

What happens when a child grows up too fast?

Is forced to make its own decisions

Not completely sure of right and wrong

Differences excluded

Intelligence incomplete

What happens when a child grows up too fast?

Consequences unconsidered

World pitted against this child

Undetected 

Not noticed

What does this child do?

Will it survive?

Go on with this new life?

What does this child do?

Escape?
Except its fate?

What does this child do?

Is it over-taken by trouble?

Over-taken by anguish?

What does this child do?

Will it understand?

Does it comprehend?

What does this child do?

Set itself free?

Lock itself in?

Will this child rise to the occasion?

Fall to the ground?

Survive?

Die?

Live,

Love,

Learn?

They’ll

Try 

This

Child’s

Faithfulness

To acknowledge

It’s painful life of

Living alone, unknown

To the world, under the radar

Trying to live without the ability

To know a parents love, a parents help

That follows a child to the end of childhood

The childhood it was forced out of, forced to miss

Due to unlikely events, unhappy events, unfortunate events

That no one should be exposed to, but it happens all too often and

The factors of this life are not the best, parents dead, in jail, incapacitated

Now they turn to knowledge, courage, hope, love, friends, others, but

Only some take the right path, some become exposed to the other

Ugly side of life where people die, children die, everyone dies

Because of gangs, drugs, unlikely enemies looking to take

Advantage of these children, forced out of childhood

These children now know the world is imperfect

So imperfect, they know no love, only

Hurt and lies and deception and

Fear and they don’t live

For the fear that

They’ll die

Succumb

To the

end

They know

Depression

They dance

With worse

Things than

Some could

Imagine and

Their dreams

Are so ugly 

Sleep    that

Is    always

Interrupted by 

Fear and Nightmares 

And objects that children shouldn’t touch

Like meth and marijuana and alcohol and drugs

But they will do anything to drown out their past, 

The screams and the ghosts that haunt everything, the

Depression that stalked them from the moment they were

Forced to outgrown their childishness, the games they should

Have played but weren’t allowed to because of someone else’s

Mistakes that mistakenly ruined them, their life’s and the others

They knew, they’d touched, but no longer know, or think about 

Because they have abandoned them for their own mistakes and 

The cycle continues, bad decisions, old life drowned out, child

Hood forgotten, blocked out in attempt to convince themselves

That they are alright and this was meant to happen, but really it

Shouldn’t have happened, they shouldn’t blame themselves but

They do anyways, and at night when they’ve run out of money 

And are on the run for they have borrowed money from the wrong

People, when the high that they’ve relied on to keep them in that

State where they feel protected from reality come crashing down

And they realize their life isn’t satisfactory but they must go on but

They wonder, must they? They believe the world is against them

They’re minds distorted by the decisions the made mistakenly not

Meaning to ruin their lives farther than they already were by some

One who was rude and fucked up. Their minds distorted by the drugs

And the alcohol they always promised to stay away, keep away from 

In their childhood, but that was snatched away, the promises of yes-

Terday, the ones those who did them wrong made, knowing that they

Were jacked up themselves, and not caring who that left, what they

Left and not understanding what they have done and knowing

That whatever happened, they wouldn’t be there to fix it and they

Obviously did not care, did not display, did not show any concern.

 These

       Children

              Did not

                  Deserve 

      This pain

      And they                     Hope and wish

without realizing, that they could

                        Change their lives. Unaware of how this 

              Started exactly, wondering if it was their fault and

      Even if it wasn’t, they still blame themselves and they wish

      For a genie in a lamp, they wish for this myth to be true, they

      Wish for the 3 wishes a genie would grant them if genies truly

    Existed,and they drown themselves,bury themselves in drugs

          Hiding their feelings, they’re wishes and yet they browze

        And they search heavily, crazily, hopefully, unwillingly,

                   Not wanting to but they still continue this search

                                         For this impossible

                                              Unrealisticness of

This genie lamp that

                               Will supposedly grant them these

                         Three wishes to repair their sad broken lives

Eventually these people, these children who

They have had their childhood ripped out of 

Their grasps will make the ultimate decision

That will change everything, the decision of

Whether or not to turn around and fix their

 Life,to untwist their unfortunate past,to fix

 What they have done to repair their child- 

Hood that they had stolen away and finally

Become a responsible, clear-headed adult

But others yet will refuse all help and will 

Misguidedly think that they can not repair

Their hearts and their feelings, and bodies

 That have had a toll taken, have had their

Youth taken by their decisions, and now

They will make one last unfortunate, not

Conceived of by those who now have clear

Minds and good attitude, but their minds 

Are very deluded and they feel they have 

No choice but to make this decision, they 

Have concluded that this is the only way

And their resolution, their final resolve is

The conclusion to this chapter, their lives

They think that it is best just to take their

Own life,silent suicides,spilling red blood

And maybe leaving a child behind, a child

Who may never have had a childhood, and

Will start this disturbing, sad cycle again


ALSO! If anyone uses any of my creative stuffs,
be it poem, randomness, excerpts from stories, anything,
I will hunt you down and kill you. 
Though I dunno why anyone would want to use any of my crap, cuz it sucks.

My childhood(hopefully I can get through this without vomiting and/or shutting down)

Our scars remind us that the past is real http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rORPLLZzIwA I just realized that since I'm not giving links to the official videos this could be considered copywriting... o.O So this song and the lyrics don't belong to me! Its Papa Roach's and his record label's and stuff. DON'T FREAKING ARREST ME!
So anyhow, on to my childhood. (Crap, my mom is up and in a bad mood, so this might end up being put off...) Some, possibly all of you are going to read this and be like, hahaha, this isn't real, she wants sympathy and attention and shit. No, I just got reminded of my childhood by some crap my bro put on the television and decided to put this up. So those of you thinking this is bullshit need to piss off.
Let's see, I've tried to block most of this stuff out, so this post might end up confusing and twisted if it isn't already.
Some of my earliest memories are of pets. Like the time I opened the door cuz I was excited my dad was home and my dog got out and was hit by a car. Or waking up to my mom crying and shaking a trash bag open so that she could put our mangled cat in because he'd been attacked by a pack of wild dogs. Or all the times that cat got his paw slammed in the door cuz he was trying to get out and then he would pull himself to the top of the doorway with his paw still stuck. Or the time my dad's cat died. Then there was the divorce, my mom coming home drunk, the police lights outside my house that I still don't remember why they were there.
Then there was ABC, my daycare. I have acid reflux problems. Very bad acid reflux problems, to the point where I have pills for it. This information plays into some of this. I remember this racist black teacher person. Her name was Ms. Barbara. She hated me. She would shove spinach and stuff down my throat and then force me, at nap time, to lie down on my stomach. I am a side sleeper, and have never enjoyed lying on my stomach. It is one of the most uncomfortable things for me. So yeah. And then there is the time when she took my shoes and forced me to run, barefoot, across the field, where I stepped on several bees. And then she took almost every possession I'd ever brought to the daycare and either destroyed them, or flaunted them(like my hair clips). Then there was the time she fed me overcooked peas and I vomited all over the place, crying, and she was laughing, and finally called my mom when another teacher person came by and glared at her. And there was also the time I got really super sick and the same thing happened. One of the worst memories of that place had to do with my acid reflux. I remember this one more clear than the others of the daycare, though not as clear as I remember some stuff. So anyway, I remember we were playing outside and I began to have the chest pains that come with it, so I asked if I could call my mom and go home or get some tums or something to relieve it, and they said no, go play. So I sat on the step as it got worse and I started to feel it in my back, stomach and sides. I lay down because at that point, it hurt so bad I couldn't move without having pain shooting through me, and then it began to hurt to breath. So I was breathing shallowly and the teachers just kind of laughed at me. I don't really remember if it went away at ABC or if I went home, but I remember the pain. I believe the one teacher, Ms. Barbara got fired when I finally told my mom what had been happening.
Onto school. McArthur Elementary. Granted, I actually had fun here, I had no idea how bad it was until we moved. Anyway, we only had two subjects, math and reading. And this is in third grade, mind you, I'm not talking about freaking kindergarten. And even that was bad because I was let in late because I was born like 2 hours after the cut off date. I was a smart child and they wouldn't freaking let me into school because of 2 freaking hours.
Going back to third grade, we were still learning addition and subtraction and 'reading' was "Grab a book off the shelf and shut up so your teacher can check her emails." I was always done with the whole math lesson within like two minutes and there were never enough books too read and I got in trouble because I was too smart. I came here with no knowledge of history or science and I was only ahead in math because I'd inadvertently taught myself multiplication and division. Again, rewinding to this school. I loved it, I had fun, I thought it was an awesome school except for the spiders that were the size of books and the big kids that always cut me in line for anything. When I came here, the school, London Towne, to me, was freaking amazing. I had some catching up to do, which I did, but I thought the school was like the most awesome school in the world. I come to middle school and find out that my school was the freaking ghetto school in the area. Do you see how bad McArthur was?
My dad's gf's/wives: were horrible. One of them made me clean her entire house and if I refused she'd hit me and stuff, and then whenever my dad came home she'd sit me down in front of the TV and tell him I just watched Snow White repeatedly.
Home life, mother of god. First off, siblings. My oldest younger brother and my younger sister were/are mentally ill. Combined, they were/are autistic, had aspergers syndrome, ODD, ADD, ADHD, anger issues and a bunch of other crap I can't remember but they got called fucking alphabet soup. And my mom was/is a single mom, 3, now 4 kids, 2 with every fucking mental illness on the planet. Second, house. I don't remember how old I was when we moved from the single family home into the apartments/townhouses, but that was crap. At first, it seemed really good. We had wonderful neighbors and security. But then those neighbors moved away, and we got some racists against us on either side. Both would play their music so loud our freaking toilet would vibrate. But that's not the worst part. One day, we went to the Tulsa County Fair, cuz we always loved it. Anyway, we came home to find that our house had been broken into. Back door had the lock torn off and part of the freaking door was missing. Our TV and every electronic had been stolen, except for the VCR which had been smashed against the wall. We were missing half our furniture and a bunch of odds and ends. Our refrigerator, which we'd just stocked that day with our food stamps for the month, had been emptied aside from some frozen peas or brussels sprouts or something. Anyway, the next day, our oh so sweet neighbors come out and the chick is wearing my mother's stolen slippers, they admitted to stealing out stuff and laughed in our faces. So we went to the security, they told us we had to go to the police, and the police said the security had to deal with it and no one did shit about it.
The move: So from Oklahoma we moved here. Not too much bad crap has happened. I'll just say, the police had to be called on my bro twice because he tried to kill everyone in the house, my sister tried to commit suicide many times, and they both ended up in mental hospitals, then foster care. They finally came out, my sister turned into a bitch, my bro got sent to live with my dad and neither of them are mentally stable, they moved back to OK, and now the landlord is telling us we have to be out of the house by September 30th, and if we don't find a house in the Centreville HS area (where I've just now excepted that there's no way I can go to Westfield with my friends), we're moving to Alexandria.
Anyway, thinking about this makes me feel crappy, so I'm going to stop with this. Its all freaking true. Maybe someday I'll write about the happier aspects, but for now, imma go write that poem. Ve-Meow! (that's goodbye in italy cat)

So I came here to talk about my childhood, but then got some muse for a poem, and then I saw something that gave me muse for a rant that could turn into a poem, and this is a long, run-on sentence of a title

Everywhere I go no one says no to me. They don't, They don't dare. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-fK0igwZZh0 So I know I'm late with this band, but hey, least I found them (Thanks Eva!)
So yeah, I actually did come here to talk about my crappy childhood but then I was on Google+ and got this muse for a poem, then I was catching up with my friends blogs and found one that my friend Mish did( her blog http://i-am-mikki-elle.blogspot.com/ ) that made me want to talk about time flying and crap, making me want to rant and give seminars and shit and gave me an idea for a poem. 
I need some coffee.
So I really don't know what the point of this blog was, except to show that I have the attention span of a squirrel (of course, that makes sense, my skull inhabiting two. [Great, another blog on the story about my squirrels]) and the mental capacity I hold and the fact that I feel daunted (Yay for vocabulary!) by the four blogs that I feel I need to write now. And yeah, my blogs are sporadic (again, vocabulary!) like I'll write 16 one day, then not write for a month, then write like six, and not write anything for two weeks, etc., etc. 
My bro is watching some stupid show that's giving me a headache because I'm sure it's melting both our brains/squirrels/whatever he might have in his head(lint). 
So I'm going to go make myself some coffee (all we have is Chai Latte and Decaf, and I'm not in the mood for the cinnamon taste of the Chai Latte so its prob gonna be decaf, which isn't gonna help anyone, but will make some people I know feel safer cuz of my spazzes with sugar and caffeine and stuff) and then I'm going to start writing my blogs.
My bro just handed me this piece of plastic that's supposed to look like a purple crystal or something. What am I supposed to do with this?! Eat it? Shove it up my landlord's butt?(I'll get into that with my childhood blog.)
So, um, not knowing how to end this, I'm tempted to post a clip from Hetalia on how to end a story that you don't know how to end but I'm too lazy to look it up and find a link and shizz, so, uh, Peace out suckers? I'm being unoriginal?