Monday, April 29, 2013

'Cause I have nothing better to do

I wish you'd open up for me, amaryllis bloom. I've been listening to the album on repeat for awhile Amaryllis Shinedown's full album
I'm going crazy over people. People either being extremely stupid, or people being too amazing for their own good.
I'm not sure if I've said it on here or not, but I broke up with Brooke.
Like anyone cares.
I'm pretty sure she's rebounding with Damien.
Meanwhile, I'm forever alone. I gotta stop falling for people in happily committed relationships with loud friends at lunch tables that make me wanna hurt myself.
I'm really hoping she doesn't read this... She probably won't. Half the time I think she's fucking with my head.
Well, she's unintentionally fucking with my head because that's how my hormones work, but there're other things... I dunno.
Am I sick, or am I gifted? lol, sorry. I love Shinedown.
So yeah, this was mostly to say I'm not enjoying pansexuality. Wait, that's a lie. I have no problem with my sexuality. I have problems with having huge crushes on people I can't have. 
Oh damn, it's almost nine. When did this happen?! I need to finish my homework. Fitness logs, agg, there's no point to this!
Nowhere Kids!!! I love this song!
lol, sorry. For my random music-related outbursts and posts that are irrelevant to everything. 
Okay, well, I'mma finish my homework like a good little student. Goodbye now.

Sunday, April 28, 2013

Hi Lauren, lol

Move, and show us what you can do, when you step into the circle and shake like we do Move by Thousand Foot Krutch This song is addictive, lol.
So the pet store was wrong. The hamsters were not both male. I went to clean out their enclosure today and I opened the loft and Innocence is all like "HEY BITCH! JUST KIDDING, I'M FEMALE! AND LOOK AT MY CHILDREN!" And she just peed out the side of the cage... lovely. We had to separate her and Iggy.
Frank is glaring at me. He really needs turtle lotion on his face, but he thinks my finger is a worm, so I'm unable to apply it. He took a chunk out of my thumb once.
I just finished going through my friend Lauren's blogs. Realized that I really ignore mine, lol.
Yeah, so I really don't have anything to talk about other than the whole hamster children surprise. I guess I'll post some poems? I'll post two really long ones!
Here's the first. I actually have a series of these going, calling it the Dear You series. This one is about my best friend from like 1st-3rd grade or so. Back when I was living in Oklahoma.

Dear you,
You, who always had space in your car for me, even though you were a family of nine in an average mini van.
You, who I met in kindergarten because your tooth was loose and you were freaking out, so I punched you and it fell out, but somehow we became friends anyway.
You, who helped me be totally oblivious to how much crap I was going through.
You, who I spent every weekend with, who I knew everything about, who I saved from going to the hospital because I made you eat.
You, whose chihuahua ate my crock, because apparently I was able to wear those, even with my sensitivity issues
You
I don’t know where you are now.
I don’t know if you’re alive.
I don’t know if you continued eating even after I moved in third grade.
You, who got adopted by a relative, (your aunt? It seemed irrelevant to me), and spent a week happier than I’d ever seen anyone.
I didn’t know what that meant.
I still don’t know if your last name is Hoffman or Ray.
I just remember how happy your happiness made me.
You, who envied me because that little red-headed boy and I hung out a lot.
I guess we were dating, that red-head and I.
I don’t count it now, we were so young.
I still think of him too, every time I hear All-Star by Smash-mouth.
You, who ran with me in Run Club even though you were severely anorexic.
I didn’t know what that word meant back then.
I didn’t quite care either.
But I didn’t let you skip a meal either.
You, who tickled me until I peed, didn’t care that I had just stained your favorite sheets, and continued tickling me.
I was embarrassed.
I actually kind of hate being tickled now.
I was lying, I love being tickled, depending on the person.
You, who taught me how to do the stupidest things on the trampoline, but neither of us cared because it was fun.
I still think of that.
I haven’t really been on a trampoline since.
I broke the last one I was on anyways.
You, whose picture I have hanging on the wall, the one where the photographer got your whole family in one shot without cutting anyone off.
I taped it next to my bed.
I think about you all the time.
I wonder where you are.
You
I don’t know where you are now.
I don’t know if you’re alive.
I don’t remember you that well, but
You are the one who saved me.
(And I wonder where you are everyday, wonder who you are, wonder who you’re with, wonder if you’re okay, what you look like
And if we would still be friends today
I have changed so much
But who’s to say
You haven’t?)
This one is from my novel Mysty Eyes and Flaming Hearts. Myst's poem for the moment. It's called  Decrepit Hope
The tree stood stoically
Watching the corner of death and defiance in silence
Its bark old and white, peeling and pale
Yet it held in its branches
Hope enough for us

People passed it frequently
Never giving it a second thought
They shied from it, unsure why
But the feeling they got disrupted their lives
They preferred to continue into the black

In the night, the tree glowed
Drawing moths of every kind
Bio-luminescent for the ones who refused to give up
The minority that lived and loved
But it also drew unwanted attention

A certain spirit of the in-between
Disagreed with the life the tree lived
And decided to go against it
In the dark, the deity came
With the intention of disintegration

The bark turned from white to orange
Blazing red and blue
The spectrum of flame raged against it
It drew the moths
It scarred the moths

The fire moved vertically
Trunk to tip
Blackening weary branches
Tired of holding hope
But determination fought both depression and inferno

Grim consideration broke out amongst the moths
Away they flew, to the depths they went
Leaving the tree to fight itself and combustion
Leaving the tree to decide worthless hope or death
Leaving the tree to scorch and burn

Glass branches shatter
Hope flooding into a world of death
Roots loosen their grip on reality
Turning to ash, ready to rot
Flames have destroyed the source of all good

Desolate souls beg
They sense the great loss
And plummet
But hope isn’t quite lost
As a moth flutters in glimmering remains

As a moth flutters in the leftover dust

As a moth inhales the ashes 
Of the tree’s rejected hope

And becomes a symbol
And remains a symbol
And spreads hope
In a land where hope does not exist
Yeah... I dunno. I fail. I can't hear my music cuz my mom is being annoying.
Happy Birthday to my aunt! 
Good night, sleep tight, don't let the dead bite.


Thursday, April 18, 2013

Sheer boredom and a slam poem

Disorder Toxicity by System Of A Down Yeah... this, The Way Of The Fist by Five Finger Death Punch and This Is The New Shit by Marilyn Manson stuck in my head today...
I should actually be doing geometry homework, but ya know, procrastination and stuff. So I went through my statistics today and was actually kind of surprised. I didn't actually think that many people had read anything from this blog. Of course, most of it is my heterochromia and hetalia posts, but still... Yeah, I really don't have much to talk about. English class today was interesting. We all had to present our slam poems, which was kind of uneventful. I did mine on sexual orientation (I'll include it after this post, I guess) and got asked if I was doing the silence for the LGBT(QP) community thing, which, of course, I am. But with my stage fright and all, it came across pretty weak... then my teacher had us write Shakespearean love letters or something, which went hilariously wrong when Jordan and Andrew went and wrote their's to each other and preformed them. I laughed until I cried. I sense a bromance going on! So yeah, that was pretty much the highlight of my day. And there's this new, somewhat insightful kid in my Creative Writing class. One of my hamsters is washing himself. It's pretty adorable. By the way, I named them Innocence and Ignorance. Ignorance is the one taking a bath and goes by Iggy. My mom thinks they're pretty horrible names for hamsters, but one of my cats is name Cricket, so... Yeah. I think I'm just gonna add the poem here and then do my math...
Slam Poem: More About Rainbows, Less About Disabilities

Love in the world of those who
Can’t, don’t, won’t, or
Like the same, “wrong”, gender
Always bittersweet until you’re
Accepted or rejected or thrown from this world
Torn from your soul and thrown into hell
Because apparently being LGBTQ or P is
A sin

Doesn’t it appeal to you?

I know, you’re
Straight or able to love freely you
Don’t know what it feels like, never knowing
Or knowing you’re not allowed
Slapped, scolded, told “no touchy”
Because he, she, they are straight

This pain may as well
Kill me off for it’s ‘unnecessary’, or ‘wrong’ in the eyes of homophobes
Only if I could
Rid myself of this feeling or have it returned would I be
Satisfied/terrified

Healing takes time and
Energy, god, just
Reject me, eject me from this world of
Loss and hate
Because if this is a disease
It’s a proud disease
And I’d rather not fight it

So eject me from this world of homo hate
Agitate, take your adjectives describing me as
Self-destructing, destroying the wold by encouraging others
Because being around gay people makes you gay 
Just like
Being around tall people makes you tall

This ‘hideous’ thing has reared it’s head and is
Eating away at
Rotting away at
My soul

There’s this disease
And it’s called love
And if I die from it
That’s fine because
And if I’m sinning because of it
That’s fine because
I’m pansexual and proud

Somewhat of a coming out story, I guess. My classmates who hadn't know before, know now. I was gonna add something about how it's not a choice, but I already almost had a panic attack from just standing up in front of the class... Also, there are two slam poems I really like. One is Somewhere There Is A Poem by Gina Loring, and To This Day by Shane something-or-other. Koyzec? I dunno, something weird like that. 
And there was one kid, Danielle, whose slam poem was worthy of worship.
So yeah... Geometry. Then soccer. Peace out girl scout