THIS AND
THIS AND WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING I'M GOING TO EXPLODE SOMEONE PLEASE CLUE US IN.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Monday, June 17, 2013
Stop and Think
Please let me take you out of the darkness and into the light Lullaby by Nickelback
Those people. You know, the ones you look down on because they do drugs. They drink. They fuck anyone who comes to them.
Those people. You know, the ones you look down on because they don't talk. They're not social. They look fearful of everything.
Those people. You know, the ones you look down on because they don't trust anyone. That you can't trust. That are granted no trust.
Those people. You know, the ones you look down on for their actions. Their scars. Their deaths.
They may not have made the best decisions. But look into their pasts' and most likely you'll find a world of hurt, a reason they have for making horrible decisions. Betrayal, denial, hurt. You're there, laughing about how you're going to commit suicide because you're having a bad hair day, how you saw this team get raped by this other team at the stadium, how gay you're new mansion is. You dis them, ignore them, bully them.
Stop. There. Get to know them, if you can. If they're able to trust you enough to let you peel off the mask they've worn for so long, you're lucky as all hell. And you better believe them, no matter how horrifying it may seem. Don't betray them, like all the rest. Don't deny them, like all the rest. Don't hurt them. Like all the rest. Be different, unique, and help them in any way you can. This may not mean tell an adult, get them into therapy. It may mean be a good friend. It may be to smile at them sadly, listen quietly as they tell you their story. As they vent.
Stop. There. Don't joke about suicide. Rape. Cutting. Some people have been through this. These are trauma triggers. Don't use gay in a derogatory tone. Some people are gay. Some gays are happy. Some get shit from peers. Some get disowned. Some get killed. Don't complain because you don't have the newest iPhone. Because some of us are struggling to get by. You have a roof over your head. You have food and water. And usable oxygen.
Stop. There. Think before you speak. Before you act. You have a brain, use it while you can. Use it all you can. Because some people can't. Don't use retard. It means slow. They may not think the same as you, but that doesn't make them "slow" or "stupid". They're best friends who may not have friends. They may not comprehend what you're saying, at least not externally, but I sure as hell do, and I don't think this makes you cool.
Think before you speak. Be decent. Don't look down on anyone. Instead, understand them. Help them if you can. Realize that you have it better than a lot of people.
My paternal grandmother once put out a cigarette on my arm. This is the best memory I have of her. I have not made horrible decisions, I have used this to make me stronger. But it haunts me. And yet, I'm not complaining. I have a roof over my head (for the moment), food in my mouth, clean water and air, use of all my limbs and organs. I'm healthy. I'm getting an education. I have it so great right now, even if I do complain and not always admit it to myself. Even if I do cry for no apparent reason. Even if I do get moody as all hell.
I have people who love me. I have a family, where all abuse has been cut out, where mental disabilities are being well handled. I have necessities. I have a few close friends, a few not-so-close friends, and an amazing girlfriend. A lot of my friends are people whose lives haven't been the best. Whose lives still aren't the best. I may not be social. I may not have a prada bag. I may not even have a home, come June 11th, but I am thankful for what I do have. And while I may wish for more, I know there are people out there who would die to have my life. Ironic wording.
I even have a computer. My life is amazing.
So please, to you human beings out there who don't think before opening your mouth or acting, for those who judge without knowing anything about people, stop. I beg of you. There is always something. A reason.
Those people. You know, the ones you look down on because they do drugs. They drink. They fuck anyone who comes to them.
Those people. You know, the ones you look down on because they don't talk. They're not social. They look fearful of everything.
Those people. You know, the ones you look down on because they don't trust anyone. That you can't trust. That are granted no trust.
Those people. You know, the ones you look down on for their actions. Their scars. Their deaths.
They may not have made the best decisions. But look into their pasts' and most likely you'll find a world of hurt, a reason they have for making horrible decisions. Betrayal, denial, hurt. You're there, laughing about how you're going to commit suicide because you're having a bad hair day, how you saw this team get raped by this other team at the stadium, how gay you're new mansion is. You dis them, ignore them, bully them.
Stop. There. Get to know them, if you can. If they're able to trust you enough to let you peel off the mask they've worn for so long, you're lucky as all hell. And you better believe them, no matter how horrifying it may seem. Don't betray them, like all the rest. Don't deny them, like all the rest. Don't hurt them. Like all the rest. Be different, unique, and help them in any way you can. This may not mean tell an adult, get them into therapy. It may mean be a good friend. It may be to smile at them sadly, listen quietly as they tell you their story. As they vent.
Stop. There. Don't joke about suicide. Rape. Cutting. Some people have been through this. These are trauma triggers. Don't use gay in a derogatory tone. Some people are gay. Some gays are happy. Some get shit from peers. Some get disowned. Some get killed. Don't complain because you don't have the newest iPhone. Because some of us are struggling to get by. You have a roof over your head. You have food and water. And usable oxygen.
Stop. There. Think before you speak. Before you act. You have a brain, use it while you can. Use it all you can. Because some people can't. Don't use retard. It means slow. They may not think the same as you, but that doesn't make them "slow" or "stupid". They're best friends who may not have friends. They may not comprehend what you're saying, at least not externally, but I sure as hell do, and I don't think this makes you cool.
Think before you speak. Be decent. Don't look down on anyone. Instead, understand them. Help them if you can. Realize that you have it better than a lot of people.
My paternal grandmother once put out a cigarette on my arm. This is the best memory I have of her. I have not made horrible decisions, I have used this to make me stronger. But it haunts me. And yet, I'm not complaining. I have a roof over my head (for the moment), food in my mouth, clean water and air, use of all my limbs and organs. I'm healthy. I'm getting an education. I have it so great right now, even if I do complain and not always admit it to myself. Even if I do cry for no apparent reason. Even if I do get moody as all hell.
I have people who love me. I have a family, where all abuse has been cut out, where mental disabilities are being well handled. I have necessities. I have a few close friends, a few not-so-close friends, and an amazing girlfriend. A lot of my friends are people whose lives haven't been the best. Whose lives still aren't the best. I may not be social. I may not have a prada bag. I may not even have a home, come June 11th, but I am thankful for what I do have. And while I may wish for more, I know there are people out there who would die to have my life. Ironic wording.
I even have a computer. My life is amazing.
So please, to you human beings out there who don't think before opening your mouth or acting, for those who judge without knowing anything about people, stop. I beg of you. There is always something. A reason.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Hypnotize
How the hell did you ever pick me? Honestly, I could sing you a song, but I don't think words can express your beauty If I'm James Dean, Then You're Audrey Hepburn-Sleeping With Sirens
The title or whatever it's called on here is just because I was too lazy to think of one, so I just put the title of the song I'm currently listening to(Hypnotize-SOAD)
I'm so sore. I had a soccer game yesterday, first of the tournament, and we actually won thanks to mein liebe. The first game we've won the entire season. The entire team was fucking ecstatic.
So, around eight, I had Lauren pick me up and we (her, her family, and I) went to Celebrate Fairfax. Which was freaking amazing. Mostly because I was with the girl I've liked practically since I met her. There were fireworks after it got dark, and if you know me, you know I have a weird obsession with colorful explosions. Anyway, the entire night was the best thing ever, and when I say the entire night, I mean the entire night. I got home at one in the morning. I got sent straight to bed, which I probably would've done anyway, considering today's planned events.
I had to wake up at eleven. Reason: Travel tryouts from one to two thirty. I got there after drinking a thing of coffee to wake me up and found that I knew four of the fifteen girls. None of which liked me because I don't conform to society. I was the only one who'd never tried out before, and one of two that haven't played on school teams. So I was the odd one out. I was also the worst on the field in my opinion. I've pretty much excepted that I probably won't make the team, but whatever. Anyway, two thirty came and I got back in the car, tired and sweaty and smelling like soccer, and we drove to Haymarket for part two of the tournament games. Yeah, hour and a half tryouts straight to a game.
I had another coffee to try to make me a little hyper, but it didn't work too well. I was too tired and ended up screwing up a lot. I played as well as I could, but I felt like I was gonna crash.
But I'm not sure being at my best would've made much of a difference. Most of the team had come deciding they didn't really want to play. So we ended up losing 3-0 because five to eight out of twenty-ish players had to do all of the work.
Season- Goals for: 2; goals against: who even knows. Games won: exactly one; games lost: most of them. But even though we only made 2 goals and won one game, we still wound up with second place trophy. Which is hilariously sad.
Over all, my weekend was pretty awesome. Mostly because of the amount of time I spent with mein liebe.
Oh, in case it wasn't obvious, the female mentioned in "Luck, help me out" actually said yes. Which made me extremely fucking happy. I had a spazz explosion when that happened. I honestly thought she'd say otherwise. Holding her hand makes me so much happier than is probably healthy, lol. Seriously though, I don't think she understands how she makes me feel. (Yeah, I'm fifteen, so what?)
Also, good luck on your final, Eris mommy. I have confidence in you. I can tell you you'll do a lot better than I will. -.-
Deanna, here's your shout out. Calm yo tits! lol. We needa hang out. I haven't seen you in forevers.
The title or whatever it's called on here is just because I was too lazy to think of one, so I just put the title of the song I'm currently listening to(Hypnotize-SOAD)
I'm so sore. I had a soccer game yesterday, first of the tournament, and we actually won thanks to mein liebe. The first game we've won the entire season. The entire team was fucking ecstatic.
So, around eight, I had Lauren pick me up and we (her, her family, and I) went to Celebrate Fairfax. Which was freaking amazing. Mostly because I was with the girl I've liked practically since I met her. There were fireworks after it got dark, and if you know me, you know I have a weird obsession with colorful explosions. Anyway, the entire night was the best thing ever, and when I say the entire night, I mean the entire night. I got home at one in the morning. I got sent straight to bed, which I probably would've done anyway, considering today's planned events.
I had to wake up at eleven. Reason: Travel tryouts from one to two thirty. I got there after drinking a thing of coffee to wake me up and found that I knew four of the fifteen girls. None of which liked me because I don't conform to society. I was the only one who'd never tried out before, and one of two that haven't played on school teams. So I was the odd one out. I was also the worst on the field in my opinion. I've pretty much excepted that I probably won't make the team, but whatever. Anyway, two thirty came and I got back in the car, tired and sweaty and smelling like soccer, and we drove to Haymarket for part two of the tournament games. Yeah, hour and a half tryouts straight to a game.
I had another coffee to try to make me a little hyper, but it didn't work too well. I was too tired and ended up screwing up a lot. I played as well as I could, but I felt like I was gonna crash.
But I'm not sure being at my best would've made much of a difference. Most of the team had come deciding they didn't really want to play. So we ended up losing 3-0 because five to eight out of twenty-ish players had to do all of the work.
Season- Goals for: 2; goals against: who even knows. Games won: exactly one; games lost: most of them. But even though we only made 2 goals and won one game, we still wound up with second place trophy. Which is hilariously sad.
Over all, my weekend was pretty awesome. Mostly because of the amount of time I spent with mein liebe.
Oh, in case it wasn't obvious, the female mentioned in "Luck, help me out" actually said yes. Which made me extremely fucking happy. I had a spazz explosion when that happened. I honestly thought she'd say otherwise. Holding her hand makes me so much happier than is probably healthy, lol. Seriously though, I don't think she understands how she makes me feel. (Yeah, I'm fifteen, so what?)
Also, good luck on your final, Eris mommy. I have confidence in you. I can tell you you'll do a lot better than I will. -.-
Deanna, here's your shout out. Calm yo tits! lol. We needa hang out. I haven't seen you in forevers.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Luck, help me out here.
Want to put my tender heart in a blender, watch it spin around to a beautiful oblivion Inside Out by Eve 6
I've also been listening to this on repeat Daughters Of Darkness by Halestorm
And Phantomrider by Tokio Hotel, but I think I've posted a link to that in previous blog things.
Gathering up the balls to ask a certain newly single female out... Realizing she's probably gonna say no or have some excuse...
Also, she's *newly* single and has been having a shit day, so I don't wanna put that on her on top of everything else...
Bahh. I got spanish to do, so I'm gonna leave this post here. Wish me luck people.
I've also been listening to this on repeat Daughters Of Darkness by Halestorm
And Phantomrider by Tokio Hotel, but I think I've posted a link to that in previous blog things.
Gathering up the balls to ask a certain newly single female out... Realizing she's probably gonna say no or have some excuse...
Also, she's *newly* single and has been having a shit day, so I don't wanna put that on her on top of everything else...
Bahh. I got spanish to do, so I'm gonna leave this post here. Wish me luck people.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
I'm a bad person...
Too lazy to put links, but Lithium by Evanescence just came on my Pandora and now it's Hurricane by 30 Seconds To Mars
Talking to my dad! My Awesome dad, not my actual dad.
Bahh. So I did stuff and stuff and now I'm thinking bad thoughts toward people because hormoness...
Is it bad that I kinda wish they'd break up like now? Cuz I want her to be happy, but I also want her, so... conflicting emotions.
I'm just gonna hide under a rock for the rest of eternity now. Bai.
(shortest post ever! For me at least.)
Talking to my dad! My Awesome dad, not my actual dad.
Bahh. So I did stuff and stuff and now I'm thinking bad thoughts toward people because hormoness...
Is it bad that I kinda wish they'd break up like now? Cuz I want her to be happy, but I also want her, so... conflicting emotions.
I'm just gonna hide under a rock for the rest of eternity now. Bai.
(shortest post ever! For me at least.)
Monday, May 20, 2013
To Her
Angels bleed and fall in silence Don't Let Me Down by Automatic Loveletter
In case you couldn't guess by the title, I'm dedicating this to her. She knows who she is unfortunately... And she's driving me freaking insane. I HATE CRUSHES SO MUCH. Especially this one because I know I have like no chance whatsoever. So anyway. Here we go, time to embarrass the fuck out of myself.
I don't know much about you, but if I knew everything, would I still be interested? I would like to say yes, but nothing is certain. I do know a bit, enough to know that my feelings aren't just random, hormonal instincts that move me from one person to the next. You are not just the next. And even if you are, I'll be stuck on the next for the next long while. You are different. In good ways, and bad ones, but these are what make you who you are, this next that I am stuck on. I know you can see it. My eyes betray my feelings, my giggles, you know, the ones where I sound like a cutesy four year old? Those aren't voluntary, nor are they normal for me. Sometimes I float on these feelings, high above the clouds, high from you and oxygen deprivation, due to the height at which these feelings have pinned me. And pinned me they have, like a decaying butterfly in a collector's case. My heart is pinned to this board and enclosed in this transparent box for all the world to see. Only you can allow me out of this cage. In case of love, please break glass, please pull pin, set off the alarm and let me know. But like all alarms, please check that they are real, that this fire is not a drill, that it wasn't just some suspicious smelling smoke that drifted in from someone whose reality just got twisted. My thoughts surround my heart, trying to break it out of this clear encasement, but like feathers they only float when the wind is in their favor. When this soft wind dies down, my thoughts plummet to the earth, turned from feather to rock, and find themselves dead and decaying in the depths of hell. When this soft wind turns into a tornado, my thoughts are ripped limb from limb, and find themselves strapped to the bed in a mental hospital, being shot up with sedatives. Next thing you know, I'm deep in a dream, dreaming of you and only you with no way to stop this. Apocalyptic feelings shatter my body, but leave my heart in this unharmed box. The world collapses around me, and yet the thoughts only swarm my heart, attempting to release it to no avail, attempting to release it in vain, attempting to set me free from this spell you've put me under. So silently, they scream. They scream the poems that I've written. La Luna, a new series, just for you, because the thoughts haunt me so. They scream:
The sun shines
Only for the moon
But gets all the glory
The sun shines
Only for the moon
So that it may light up
The darkest nights
And though it may be dimmed
By light-pollution
Of distant humans
It is no less impressive
It will never die
When the night sky
Lets loose the rain
Beautiful, but obscuring
The moon
But when the rain slows
Or clears
The moon is the most precious thing to behold
Shadows made by sunlight
Show us all the way
To hell
But the light provided by the moon
Brings us back
To life
Lying silently in wait
Underworlds will rise again
New, fresh, ready to annihilate
And when they attempt, the moon will save us all
These and so many more, these are the stories they whisper. About the way la luna has driven me so insane. How it has left my coherency and reasoning murdered, bleeding in a ditch somewhere along the highway I'm running from, the highway of denial and rejection. I run to you and from you, dropping analogies to and fro, attempting to get your attention, attempting the break the dam that holds my feelings so deep in my soul. The feelings that feed off my soul, blackening it into depression, unhealthy obsession that I can not seem to control. My eyes control my outtake, but my eyes are suddenly glued to the mirror that reflects my ignorant soul, my captured heart, my illogical feelings. I can't take this, so I write in hopes that once my feelings flow onto a page, and the ink helps them stick, but instead I somehow inhale the essence of this ink, releasing this disease back into me. So then I scream them out, but inhale them back in. They will not disappear. So the logical part of me picks up a knife and goes to murder these bipolar feelings, but my logical thoughts have brought a knife to a gunfight, and reincarnation takes a long while, so I am overrun with these emotions. Moksha, please, let me break this endless cycle. I am crawling up this mountain with the lowest energy, attempting to rise from the Untouchables to Brahman. What did I do to deserve this kind of karma? What sins did I commit that made Jesus want to strike me with these kinds of feelings? Zeus, Thor, please, I beg you, strike me with lightning, fry these feelings to nothing, for I know they'll not be returned, and I'll be stuck in this cage forever. Flying Spaghetti Monster, rip my heart free of this cage with your noodle-y appendages, Space Unicorn Gods, let me join you on Onowon. Just let these feelings free, and leave me be, un-tortured and somewhat innocent, only scars left to tell the story of this tragic event in the illogical, hormone-ridden brain of a fifteen year old.
So, um, this actually turned out kind of morbid. Whoops... >.< I dunno, just... heavy fucking crushes guys.
And I know her life is really hard and shitty right now, and I want to help so bad, but I dunno how. I'm just really awkward. And if you read this, I dunno, like ignore it or something. I don't want you to be, like, burdened or something. Or feel as if you have an obligation. I'm just overly dramatic, and I know you don't need any more drama. Your life is falling apart, and I know I've said this like fifty thousand times, but I'm sorry.
And on that note, um, bye.
*disclaimer* with the religious analogies, I'm debating taking them out because I probably messed them up(excluding the christianity and Space Unicornist references) and feel like I might end up offending somebody. So, if I did offend anybody, I really didn't mean to, and I will remove the references.
In case you couldn't guess by the title, I'm dedicating this to her. She knows who she is unfortunately... And she's driving me freaking insane. I HATE CRUSHES SO MUCH. Especially this one because I know I have like no chance whatsoever. So anyway. Here we go, time to embarrass the fuck out of myself.
I don't know much about you, but if I knew everything, would I still be interested? I would like to say yes, but nothing is certain. I do know a bit, enough to know that my feelings aren't just random, hormonal instincts that move me from one person to the next. You are not just the next. And even if you are, I'll be stuck on the next for the next long while. You are different. In good ways, and bad ones, but these are what make you who you are, this next that I am stuck on. I know you can see it. My eyes betray my feelings, my giggles, you know, the ones where I sound like a cutesy four year old? Those aren't voluntary, nor are they normal for me. Sometimes I float on these feelings, high above the clouds, high from you and oxygen deprivation, due to the height at which these feelings have pinned me. And pinned me they have, like a decaying butterfly in a collector's case. My heart is pinned to this board and enclosed in this transparent box for all the world to see. Only you can allow me out of this cage. In case of love, please break glass, please pull pin, set off the alarm and let me know. But like all alarms, please check that they are real, that this fire is not a drill, that it wasn't just some suspicious smelling smoke that drifted in from someone whose reality just got twisted. My thoughts surround my heart, trying to break it out of this clear encasement, but like feathers they only float when the wind is in their favor. When this soft wind dies down, my thoughts plummet to the earth, turned from feather to rock, and find themselves dead and decaying in the depths of hell. When this soft wind turns into a tornado, my thoughts are ripped limb from limb, and find themselves strapped to the bed in a mental hospital, being shot up with sedatives. Next thing you know, I'm deep in a dream, dreaming of you and only you with no way to stop this. Apocalyptic feelings shatter my body, but leave my heart in this unharmed box. The world collapses around me, and yet the thoughts only swarm my heart, attempting to release it to no avail, attempting to release it in vain, attempting to set me free from this spell you've put me under. So silently, they scream. They scream the poems that I've written. La Luna, a new series, just for you, because the thoughts haunt me so. They scream:
The sun shines
Only for the moon
But gets all the glory
The sun shines
Only for the moon
So that it may light up
The darkest nights
And though it may be dimmed
By light-pollution
Of distant humans
It is no less impressive
It will never die
When the night sky
Lets loose the rain
Beautiful, but obscuring
The moon
But when the rain slows
Or clears
The moon is the most precious thing to behold
Shadows made by sunlight
Show us all the way
To hell
But the light provided by the moon
Brings us back
To life
Lying silently in wait
Underworlds will rise again
New, fresh, ready to annihilate
And when they attempt, the moon will save us all
These and so many more, these are the stories they whisper. About the way la luna has driven me so insane. How it has left my coherency and reasoning murdered, bleeding in a ditch somewhere along the highway I'm running from, the highway of denial and rejection. I run to you and from you, dropping analogies to and fro, attempting to get your attention, attempting the break the dam that holds my feelings so deep in my soul. The feelings that feed off my soul, blackening it into depression, unhealthy obsession that I can not seem to control. My eyes control my outtake, but my eyes are suddenly glued to the mirror that reflects my ignorant soul, my captured heart, my illogical feelings. I can't take this, so I write in hopes that once my feelings flow onto a page, and the ink helps them stick, but instead I somehow inhale the essence of this ink, releasing this disease back into me. So then I scream them out, but inhale them back in. They will not disappear. So the logical part of me picks up a knife and goes to murder these bipolar feelings, but my logical thoughts have brought a knife to a gunfight, and reincarnation takes a long while, so I am overrun with these emotions. Moksha, please, let me break this endless cycle. I am crawling up this mountain with the lowest energy, attempting to rise from the Untouchables to Brahman. What did I do to deserve this kind of karma? What sins did I commit that made Jesus want to strike me with these kinds of feelings? Zeus, Thor, please, I beg you, strike me with lightning, fry these feelings to nothing, for I know they'll not be returned, and I'll be stuck in this cage forever. Flying Spaghetti Monster, rip my heart free of this cage with your noodle-y appendages, Space Unicorn Gods, let me join you on Onowon. Just let these feelings free, and leave me be, un-tortured and somewhat innocent, only scars left to tell the story of this tragic event in the illogical, hormone-ridden brain of a fifteen year old.
So, um, this actually turned out kind of morbid. Whoops... >.< I dunno, just... heavy fucking crushes guys.
And I know her life is really hard and shitty right now, and I want to help so bad, but I dunno how. I'm just really awkward. And if you read this, I dunno, like ignore it or something. I don't want you to be, like, burdened or something. Or feel as if you have an obligation. I'm just overly dramatic, and I know you don't need any more drama. Your life is falling apart, and I know I've said this like fifty thousand times, but I'm sorry.
And on that note, um, bye.
*disclaimer* with the religious analogies, I'm debating taking them out because I probably messed them up(excluding the christianity and Space Unicornist references) and feel like I might end up offending somebody. So, if I did offend anybody, I really didn't mean to, and I will remove the references.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Obsessions
Automatic Loveletter Truth or Dare full album
So, new obsession. Juliet Simms. And Automatic Loveletter. Blame Lauren.
I'm also obsessing over pizza at the moment. Craving barbecue chicken pizza. Or wings. Wings would be nice.
Ticked off at the fact that there're a few ideas I've had for eye drawings that I can't complete because of my wrist. I'm really hoping I don't have to have surgery. That would screw my summer up.
Biggest obsession... Well, not really an obsession. Just a huge ass crush. She knows. Doubt she knows how big it is though. Or what she's been doing to me.
Anyway... I think that's about it. If anybody wants to take two hamsters off my hands, that'd be appreciated. I don't really want them going to a pet store...
So, new obsession. Juliet Simms. And Automatic Loveletter. Blame Lauren.
I'm also obsessing over pizza at the moment. Craving barbecue chicken pizza. Or wings. Wings would be nice.
Ticked off at the fact that there're a few ideas I've had for eye drawings that I can't complete because of my wrist. I'm really hoping I don't have to have surgery. That would screw my summer up.
Biggest obsession... Well, not really an obsession. Just a huge ass crush. She knows. Doubt she knows how big it is though. Or what she's been doing to me.
Anyway... I think that's about it. If anybody wants to take two hamsters off my hands, that'd be appreciated. I don't really want them going to a pet store...
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