Saturday, February 28, 2009

Note:

I never regretted anything I said in my very first post. (I feel shallow)

Let the war begin.


No sides necessary.
Just listen and keep to yourself.
Keep your thoughts in at all times.
And remember, Shelby is always wrong.

Her feelings, her thoughts, her first moves to resolve issues.

They're always wrong.

Remember this when you take sides.

Oh right, we're not doing that taking sides thing.

No sides, then. Just remember:

Shelby. Is. Always. Wrong.

She's a bad friend, she's fucking stupid, she's not reliable because she has friends that you may not like.

She's forgiving and she lets a lot of things slide by.

Remember:

Shelby. Is. Always. Wrong.

Monday, February 23, 2009

I AM

very excited.
:]
BAMBOOZLE.
=D
=D
=D

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Stupid Sky, Hello Moon.

I'm afraid that one day we will meet in person.
I'll recognize you, but you'll forget who I ever was.
And you, do you remember how much of a friend I was?
You once said one of the best, at the time.

Or am I just forgotten? Am I regret?

Please, remember how I made you feel.

Even if you don't remember who I was.

Remember the feeling.

As I recall, it was a good one.
I can handle never knowing.
But please, just don't forget the feeling if you ever reminisce.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Once apo- shut up.

I remembered what I was going to write about.
But, I'll save it for another day.

Six cents and an empty coffee cup.

Too bad I'm not a song writer, or that could be a very poetic song title.
I feel like a band with a mix of a sound and feeling of Owl City, Fall Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco would have a title like that. It would be a mix, majority in the Owl City side of the scale, less Panic!.
We'll just delete Panic! all together. Fall Out Boy (old) + Owl City= Six cents and an empty coffee cup.
Generally the song would be about a girl. Or a figurative "lost boy" in the suburbs or city. He would wear a peacoat, his hair would be just like everyone else's. And he would wear shoes, pants, shirts and belts and socks and scarves and whatever else that he pleased. Everything would be common, similiar on him just like it would be on everyone else. The only thing that would be different is his journy. His is his own. His own journy that connects in so many ways with wires and nooks and crannies to a person's life, relating them so strongly to the song.
It would be about love.
A boy in love with a girl, written in a sort of third person.
Or a boy, directly, written about a girl. For whom he loves.

I don't believe a boy/man can love how we see in the movies.
I don't believe it.
I don't believe it can last, and I don't believe that they will stick through.

I've said this a hundred times over, I will not believe it until it is proven different to me. My trust issues with men reflect on everything I have ever witnessed in relationships with my friends around me. My friends, my family and the men that have torn them apart.

That's ironic.
Apart- the act of two being separate.
A part- the act/doing of one or two being relative.
It's opposite.

I should stop complaining and whining on here.
But at least I know I'm complaining and whining.
And no one is reading this. So that's that.
If you happen to lay your eyes on this, great.

I came in to this post with something deep and meaningful to say about my mind and how it's working today. But, I ended up putting a slight story behind my title and branched off- completely dodging what I came in to say.
Maybe another post at 12:05, so it will be tomorrow.
But, I hope by then my mind is distracted and I'm thinking about something happier than the slump I've gotten my mind buried in to.

Apart.
A part.
A party.

A lot.

Into.
In to.

All together.
Altogether.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Splenda.






I'm okay without them around.
I'm cheerful and hopeful and happy.

I feel so guilty for feeling so negative towards them, but what am I going to do.
Like, I have to stand my ground.

They've asked.

And I don't expect them to know.

And I should probably say something.


But no matter what I say, I'm always wrong.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

I feel shallow

when I think about wanting a huge fan base based off of my looks.
I feel shallow when I get jealous over people and stop myself from thinking what mean thought would come next.

I feel like an idiot half the time when I'm talking to my friends.

I hate complaining because it makes me look weak or bitchy.
So, instead of complaining, I hold it back and worry about how bitchy I will sound when I finally snap from everything that is building on my shoulders.

I know I'm not alone with my feelings and what I go through, but I don't know if you understand like how I know.
Like how I don't feel like I'm not appreciated enough. And when I feel like that I feel like a bitch for thinking and/or feeling it.
Everything I do or think I second-guess myself. Every single thing. It's barely an exaggeration.
What I say, what story I remember and share, what fact I think, what answer I give, what grade I get, what smile I push out.
It's like I'm never right, or I'm never being listened to when I do say something.

I hate thinking ' Well, I usually don't voice my opinion, so when I just did.. wouldn't that count for something a little more?'
Because I know it doesn't. Life isn't like the movies. And people are selfish.

I've been so let down and so dissapointed lately by the ones who mean most to me. It's breaking me down, causing me to completely second guess everything I have, who I am, what I thought.

Oh, well maybe she didn't say that for sure. Oh, well maybe there's a legitimate reason. Oh, well maybe I heard wrong. Oh, well maybe I'm not right. Oh, well maybe I'm wrong all the time. Oh, well maybe it's stupid for me to get my hopes up and set my mind to something.

But, it's not! It's fucking not. It's not my fault, not anymore.
You did say it was a definite.
There's never a legitimate reason.
You can never hold your word.
Time after time and it's starting to drive me nuts.
Why am I the only reliable person?
Why am I the only one who is most countable?
I can't be friends with myself like that. I know I'll be there early, I know I'll be there at the time I say I will. I know I'll get the tickets when I say I will. No ifs or ands or buts. I do everything so quickly, so productively and I make sure it's the best for all of them.

I'm sick of doing all of this time after time and receiving nothing.

I feel so selfish and stupid and bitch-tastical and way too mad for ranting like that about the friends who have helped me. But what about now?
I've been acting unlike myself.
They know I don't talk in person about my feelings.
Do they ask again, question my answer?
Shouldn't they know me better by now? It's not like I never share how I feel with them.

Why is it me who has to ask?




I'll post this.
Then I'll regret everything in a moment.
But these feelings only subside, they don't disappear.