a million little pieces....of PMS

sometimes i wonder about what makes people sad. i guess i'm in one of those "moods" right now, the "i want to get drunk by myself and overdose on sleeping pills" type of mood. 750 mL of vodka is hiding in someone else's bag in the back of my closet, but i'm not going to touch it. some call it self control, i call it being too scared to get near it. alcohol is a powerful thing. it can break up relationships, kill people, cause other incidents that kill people (like drunk driving) and it's only a liquid. i'm getting that feeling in my chest now, the cramp that tells me i'm thinking too much about something, or that i'm upset. sometimes, even both. on and off i've been thinking about "a million little pieces" by james frey. i've decided it was excellently written and a great novel with a moral, but i personally think people can only stay away from something bad once they've experienced it's negative effects. no matter how well something negative is described to you, you must experience it yourself before you decide how you can feel emotionally about it. some people can understand other people's problems, but only when they experience them themselves can they actually have something to relate to while thinking about the subject. experience experience experience, blah blah blah.

The Mosh

there's something about concerts, they just make me happy.
maybe it's something about the love everyone has for a band that you love, or how nice people can be that you haven't even met, or how no one minds that they're gross and dirty and covered in sweat, they're just there for the love of music. i don't know what's appealing about punching randoms and crashing into others and screaming and jumping, but there's something magical in the moshpit. there's a feeling that you can't get anywhere else, and as soon as you step into the cold air outside, it increases for a second and fades away until the next show. the only place where i'm content to be way too warm and barely able to breathe is in the center of a moshpit, although i'm not violent, it almost feels like a home. everyone belongs and the color of your hair, or what your face looks like, or what you dress like doesn't matter because you're only there to have fun for a night with a bunch of people you don't know. as i wipe the last tear from my face before i go back to bed, i anticipate my next show, and what will happen. i can't wait to go back to the magic of the moshpit.

"It's the thought that counts"-- or so I thought.

Today, I signed on to Nexopia, only to discover that a new poll was up on the site. This is not unusual, considering the fact that they change the poll every couple days. It was a simple question, or so I thought- "What do you want for Christmas?". There were the usual answers as options, from far fetched things like leprechauns and ponies to the usual things such as CDs or Gift Cards. I voted nonsensically, for "What?" (I don't yet know what I want for Christmas). The thing I was suprised to discover was that a large majority (37.4%) of people wanted money for Christmas. I wasn't that surprised, but I was rather saddened.
In my mind, nothing is a more thoughtless Christmas gift than money. To me, money says "Sorry, I didn't have time to get you a gift, here's some money, go buy one for yourself." Forgive me for being old fashioned, but I thought it was the thought that counted in terms of a present. Personally, I'm elated when I open a great present from a friend that I know must have taken at least a small bit of effort to pick out. It shows me that my friend cares about me enough to think about me as a person and what I might like to receive for a Christmas gift.
However, many teenagers (I apologize for making a generalization, but a fair majority of Nexopia's users are in fact, teens) lately just seem to want money, money and more money. It feels like eventually there isn't going to be such a thing as gifts, people will only receive crumpled bills stashed inside a card. "To ___, Merry Christmas, From ____."
"But wait!" you say, "Times are changing. What's wrong with giving everyone money? Then they can use it for a gift that they would like. Besides, I'm not good at picking out gifts anyway."
Well, my friend, this may be true, but at least a gift shows that you took the time to think of what someone might appreciate rather than taking the easy way out. That's what gift receipts are for anyway--- if your friend or family member really doesn't appreciate your gift, they can always take it back and find something else they would enjoy more. It's also special if your friend understands the fact that you may be crappy at picking out gifts, but tried anyway, for their sake.
This sword does swing both ways though. Sometimes people only ask for money as a Christmas gift (I like to think of these people as "difficult"). Just because they want money however, does not mean that you can't pick them out something you think they would like better than, as I stated before, some crumpled bills. Hey, if you're lucky, it might be something they've always wanted but never really thought to ask about.
Anyway, back to my point. Gifts take time and effort to pick out, money takes a couple of uncaring seconds to thrust into an envelope. My challenge is this: show a friend you care this Christmas- enough to choose something for them that they might get some enjoyment out of, rather than a bill they'll toss at an uncaring cashier without even thinking of your name.
As Charles Dudley Warner intelligently stated, "The excellence of a gift lies in its appropriateness rather than its value."
Just something to think about this holiday season.

Double edged.

It's amazing how things can be so double edged. One side can be super good, and one can be super bad. Maybe it's reliant on destiny, or faith, or attitude, but honestly I don't think anyone really knows.
I'm going to use hope for an example in this entry, because I've been thinking about hope for a long time lately. People hope for many different things. You can hope for a new pet, you can hope for a new lover, you can hope to die, you can hope to live, you can hope to pass tests...you can almost hope anything. What happens though, when you cease to hope? Is it a positive or negative thing?
Personally, I think ceasing to hope is a good idea. When you're not hoping for anything, you aren't looking forward to something that may not happen, something that may not come true. That way when it doesn't happen after all, you aren't disappointed.
Now the hard part is putting the plan, of learning how to cease hoping into action.
As soon as you find out how, tell me.
I'll be waiting.

No hard feelings...bullshit.

I think one of the hardest feelings ever is knowing you have no one to talk to. It's hard when the people you knew almost as well as yourself are physically or emotionally gone, and going to anyone else to discuss something feels funny. It's like they knew me even better than I know me, and they were always there to help out because they'd tell me how I actually felt.
I'm not really good with things like that. Sometimes I lie to myself to make myself feel better, but I always realize the lie in the end, which isn't cool. Then, not only do I feel guilty for lying to myself, but I feel dumb for doing so. It's like "I should've told the truth to myself and accepted things at face value at first, even though I know I couldn't have, or wouldn't have anyway."

The mind is a terrible thing to waste, but sometimes it's a terrible thing to use.

Lives

"Other peoples' lives seem more interesting 'cause they ain't mine."
- from "Lives" by Modest Mouse

True that. Over time I've heard a lot of people complain that they're "always bored", they "have no life" or "think other people's lives are a lot more interesting". But, are they really?
Each of us has our own view of life. We make our distinctions based on how much we enjoy what we're doing. But so many of us hold the common beliefs that other people have better lives, or it would be more interesting if we had a different life. I guess it all ties back to that "grass is greener on the other side" motto.

But what is the truth? Is the grass really greener on the other side? How can you tell? Is it worth the risk to go to the other side? And lastly, does the color of the grass really affect your life?

Think about it.

dark

on one summer night, in the dark
i said i didn't like you 'that way'
and in your eyes, shining stars
were painted one by one
with delicate paintbrushes
by her, the artist.
you told me; with quivering breaths that
it was okay if we could
"just be friends"
just like i wanted, right?
"yes, i said,
that's exactly what i wanted"
forcing myself to stay calm
not because i was,
but because that was the 'right thing to do'
or was it?
and you walked away, hands in pockets
deep in thought as each star went out
one by one and the light in your eyes was replaced
by raindrops and cloudy skies,
and later i realize,
i held the paintbrush.

himhimhim.

some days i wake up and can't believe i'm doing things this way, but i am.
i like a boy.
he is nice, occasionally funny, and just a sweet person in general. i'm glad i met him; i really am. i'm not glad that i seem unable to let go of the past however, and that sometimes even his name brings back the memories i swore to myself i would one day forget. i dislike how i can't get in to a relationship with him because i'm too scared of the consequences, good or bad. i'm terrified of relationships currently. i don't want to get near them because i'm afraid i'll get hurt again, or things will go wrong, etc. it's funny how i thought for so long that i needed a new boyfriend, someone to complete me, when really all i needed to work on was trying to complete myself. it's going to take a lot of work-- can i do it? sometimes i hate the way certain things make me feel, as if i'm helpless and unable to change anything about the one way track my life is (or seems to be) on.
i really like this boy though, and i hope things will work out for the better.
i need a good thing in my life right now, i really do.

ps-- about the 'triple' title, i believe something seems to mean more, have more emphasis or seem more important when you say it three times. try it for yourself.

untitled

life is a one way train to nowhere, seriously. if you want to get technical about it, it's like a videotape that doesn't have a rewind button.

think about it. the train keeps on rolling and rolling on it's neverending track. if stuff falls off, it doesn't stop, it doesn't stop.

that's the problem with things like life.
they don't have pause buttons.
or rewind ones.
or stop/eject ones.

damn it all to hell.

My thirtieth post, oh my god.

Okay who cares.
Now that I've gotten that out, onwards with things.
My blog is a whiny bunch of shit. I just read some random guy's blog, and it was really funny, and I was like hey, why the shit don't I do something interesting? That was a terrible run on sentence.
Anyway, the next few weeks are always the worst weeks of the year.
Why?
BACK TO SCHOOL!
Good old me, still being 15 years old and beginning Grade 11, I still have 2 years of joyous school left. God damn my parents for not screwing in 1986.
School is okay-- the course work isn't that hard, and if I'm lucky I can pass everything without trying very much and get honors. Unfortunately, my school is full of preppy Diesel/FCUK bitches, my best friend is moving away and I'm going to end up alone eating my lunch in empty hallways like last year.
Joy.
Anyway, now that I'm done my short rant, I better get off to clean my room because it's a huge fucking mess (I'll probably end up sleeping).
Farewell to whoever is reading this.
Most likely no one.

friends.

so today, i was reading something my friend (whose name I'll leave out) wrote in her blog, about her dad. he died last year, and she's only 16 now. she wrote so many things about him, and it was so heartfelt, i almost cried. i can't imagine what it would be like to go through something like that. it would have to be so terrible. i would be so torn up if i lost any of my family members.
sometimes i think the world is really cruel. why do things like this have to happen to such nice people? i think this is why i don't believe in god, or stuff like that. because he hasn't proven himself to me. some days, i just tend to be so mad at the world--especially when horrible things like that happen to friends of mine.

new me.

it feels like i did the right thing.
he asked me out, and i said no. i had to. it was the only thing, and i had to be fair to myself, and to him. and i honestly feel like it was the right thing to do.
i will not have another brandon scenario. i will not screw myself over again. no no no.
i need to get my priorities sorted before i let another person into my life. i cannot just go around dating whoever i want because i'm desperate and feel like i need some love. i need to learn how to love myself first, or i'm never going to make it in the real world.

i am sick. sick sick sick.

It's true, I'm sick of so many things.
01. I'm sick of annoying customers at work. I'm sick of them telling me what to do, and thinking they're smart, and can get by the rules. I'm sick of them being rude.
02. I'm sick of spending my money on impulse purchases. I need to learn how to save, but everytime I want to get around to making a savings account, it never happens. I need to quit procrastinating.
03. I'm sick of my inability to have one night stands, except when I'm drunk. I'm sick of how emotionally involved I get.
04. I'm sick of eating too much and not being able to stop, or not having the power to. Even, not having the motivation to.
05. I'm sick of assholes playing shitty songs on the radio. I'm sick of turning to every station and not finding something to listen to. I'm sick of the fact we have no CD player in our car.
06. I'm sick of the shitty bus service to South Edmonton Common because Edmonton Transit and Ralph Klein are retarded.
07. I'm sick of the fact that Trent is moving away.
08. I'm sick of people's ageist bullshit.
09. I'm sick of being bored and having it seem like there's shit all to do, anytime.
10. "I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired."

"Perfect Imperfections"

I won't wait after the guy who chases after me. Who ditches his friends to hang out with me. Who tells me I look beautiful with smeary makeup and sweatpants (because I don't). I won't wait for the guy who will sit under the stars with me for hours, or who will carry my bags when I'm shopping. Nor the guy who tells me how lucky he is to have me 24/7. I'm not planning to wait for the guy who calls me back after I hang up on him (because face it, if I hung up, I don't want to talk, retard). I refuse to be sad waiting for the perfect guy to pop into my life.

Because let's face it, he doesn't exist. No one is perfect and I think people should realize that. Face it, you can't have everything you want in a person. The guy you're waiting for is not going to come. I refuse to wait for the "perfect guy", because think how many great people I could miss out on while I'm busy preoccupying myself with perfectionistic attitudes.I'm not being desperate, just realistic. Didn't someone once say that "Love isn't about someone being perfect, it's about making the imperfect person perfect." It's true. Just a thought.

And another note, I wrote this by myself. Unlike the 600 girls on nexopia who copied it off each other's pages to use on their own. Please ask for permission if you'd like to use this.

©R.H.'05

"You're Such A Sucker For A Sweet Talker"

I believe that this is true for everyone, except people who have already been suckered by sweet talkers.

Personally, I think human nature makes people suckers for sweet talkers. Think about it-- a nice girl or boy comes up to you and compliments you all the time, or says generally sweet things. Because they show so much interest in you, you might be inclined to like them, have a crush on them, etc. Depending on what happens, things might go further. Originally, although some people might beg to differ, you weren't suckered in by their good looks, or nice personality, etc. Although they may have been contributing factors, the ultimate reason was that they sweet talked you and made you feel good about yourself when it felt like no one felt that way.

You had low self esteem, or maybe even moderate and they rescued you from it, because it finally felt like someone cared.
But did they really?
Because after all, "you're such a sucker for a sweet talker."

Love can make you blind.

hollow.

Right now, I'm not sure which is worse-- feeling lonely, or hollow. Devoid, empty. That's how it was last night. Either way, I think both are feelings you get when you realize that the person you have a crush on doesn't like you back. It seems to happen to me everytime. I hate that feeling. In a society like the one we have right now, looks almost get you everything. Everything. If you're pretty, I think it's what attracts the opposite sex to you in the first place, at least for the most part. Then they realize whether you have a good personality or not, etc.
But what if you're not pretty?
What then?
And what if you're shy also? I'm not sure how you're supposed to attract someone to yourself if you're quiet and only have exceptional (or average) looks. Pretty people get all the luck, and I'm too bitter. The End.

gone.

sometimes things can be really difficult.
like telling your best friend you have a massive crush on him. little does he know that you think about him all the time, and have since the first time you guys talked at school, in a class you both hated. it's hard to tell him that not only do you like him, but you have for a long time, and have kept it a secret because you couldn't bear to say it. when "do you like someone" was answered with a "no" which was really code for "you".

he doesn't know that everytime you pretended to be elated that he was getting a girlfriend, you'd secretly go home and cry about it. you'd act happy for them, but really you wanted her place in his heart, even though you already had your own. sometimes you'd just cry because you knew that the both of you would never be more than friends.

everytime you opened your mouth to tell him, something else would always come up and you'd shut it again. there was always a reason not to say something. no one wants to lose a friend, or be scared to lose a friend, especially their best one. maybe he isn't meant to know, except when he moves away in a month. your heart hurts just thinking about it. an hour and a half away, and you haven't even told him. and you're too scared to say anything before he leaves. for all you know, something could have happened, but you didn't say anything and now he's gone.

gone gone gone.

You.

I remember times with you. Out in the country but still close to the city pavement and streetlights. Close to a major highway. With cars rushing by, we made the turnoff down the gravel road towards your house, or mansion as I liked to call it, considering it was about 3-6 times as big as my house. I anticipated seeing you again, it was just shortly after camp. We were going to a family barbecue of yours, and I was really nervous. I didn't necessarily know how to act. You drove us there, and at the time, being only about 13 I was scared of what would happen (did you have your licence?!). Anyways, we drove the escalade there, and hung out with some of your family, who were really nice to me. Some of them even joked about us going out, and at the time both of us were too silly to realize that that's what the other one wanted. I think the image that'll be stuck in my mind for a long time is the scene that came next. We were driving your expensive escalade down the gravel road as I watched the speedometer crawl from 40 to 60 to 80. We were flying by then. As corny as it sounds, I think it felt like my heart was flying too. We went back to your house, and I saw all the expensive cars you had. Holy crap, you had a lot of money. It didn't bother me though, because you never acted all high and mighty because of it. I can't remember what else we did, but my mom came and picked me up later. By then, I think I was sure that I liked you. A while later, I told Davis about this. He told me I should tell you, but I couldn't, I was too shy. So he told you for me, in an email. And it turns out you liked me back. And that was the longest relationship I've ever had, to this day. I miss you sometimes. Okay, a lot of the time....Okay, I wish I could go back and reverse our breakup and not have gone out with Brandon, but unfortunately that's not possible. You were a great person. And the few minor flaws now seem like nothing to me, but I remember that back then they seemed bigger. Big enough for me to be a little bit mad. Then you broke up with me on your birthday, and it was over. 3 months, 1 day. Over. I'd lie and say I could remember that day as clear as glass, but I can't. I just remember moderately when it ended. I guess what I'm trying to say is not that I regret what I've done, or that we both made bad choices, but simply that I miss you. And hey, some days I probably miss you as more than a friend. But unfortunately that's sort of irrelevant now. The more things change, the more they stay the same....

14 months.

So occasionally, I wish I could go back to those simpler days, of grade 9, of analyzing songs in Language Arts class and listening to Wishlist by Pearl Jam and Comfort Eagle by Cake, and learning to love them over time. Back to MKIH, and writing it all over our stuff. "Do you know what MKIH means?” No, sorry, no idea. And desperately trying to conceal it, because we really knew what it meant. And so did he, but we didn’t know that yet. I’d go back to the day, to fourth period English class and “Rachel, they need you at the office”. And knowing what it meant, and how I didn’t want to go, but went anyway, leaving my pink English binder on my desk and hearing them wish me good luck, their voices grim. They knew I would need it. She took me into her office first, explained what they knew. Said someone had told them, she couldn’t tell me who it was. Said how I was ruining things, I could get out if I wanted to, how I had potential. And all the while, I am thinking about my parents in the next room, about how my leg won’t stop shaking, and if she doesn’t quit saying nice things then I might just start to cry. About how she tells me it’s time to tell them, and I get up out of the chair as I watch other kids walk by out the window, desperately wishing I could get out of here, that I was one of them. But she gives me a hug, and I remain stiff and solid, nailed to the ground, waiting for the inevitable. She opens the door and my parents are there, my mom looks like she might cry, and my dad looks quite indifferent, like always. She explains to them about what is going on and what I have been doing, the real thing. The weed, Brandon, the whole deal. Brandon’s history, which they are surprised to hear. I’m appalled at the fact that they didn’t know. I came home, my clothes smelling of pot many times in a month, and neither of them noticed or said anything, despite the fact that my mother could “Smell that stuff a mile away”. Yeah fucking right, I think. “Are you going to break up with him, because you should.” Yeah, I was planning on doing it tonight anyway. “Okay, good.” We get home. I walk after them. After Megan has gotten in trouble for interrupting my session with Ms. Bhatti, to tell me she put my things in my locker. After the meeting, I walk slowly to the locker and line things up from left to right, tallest to smallest. I pick up everything I need, and walk out, dreading what will happen when I get home. I walk in the door and sit, and they talk to me for a bit, or mom does, I can’t remember about what. “Did you do it to see what it was like?” Spat, the words like razors across her tongue, and my heart. The guilt is starting to build, but little do I know, this is only the beginning. No, shot back in the same tone. I am informed that I will be calling him after supper. Hey, it’s me, can you come over? How about you come over here, no one’s home. No, I need you to come here, I need to talk to you about something. Okay; I’ll be over in a bit. The next couple minutes are hell. He walks up to the door and we go to my room. We sit on my bed, and he holds my hand. And I tell him what is happening, how there can be no more us, and why. And throwing the blame partially on my parents, because I can’t handle it myself yet. He cries. And cries and cries and cries. Baby, I’ll kill myself, you’re the only girl I’ll ever love. Between choked sobs, like I should fall for it. And I do, I fall for every word. Then, I didn’t know he was going to date Rachelle, I was going to date Jason. That him and Krysta were going to go out and have sex a month later, and how they are still going out today. I apologize every couple minutes. He tries to leave, I stop him. He continues to cry, I don’t know what to do, and I cry too until I have to do something. In tears, walking out to the phone in the kitchen. Shane, can you come over? Sorry Rachey, I can’t. I’m grounded, remember? Please, I need you! So he comes over. And the three of us sit and cry for a while, until we have convinced Brandon out of it, until we have convinced him to talk to my mom, who calls his mom. It kills me to watch them cry. And after a few hours, it is finally over; although it’s never really ended; not now, maybe not quite ever. And he walks out my door. And so does Shane, who apologizes to my mom. And she sits and tells me that it’s not my fault; after all this, she has the nerve. I know it is, or at least I think I do. But it wasn’t, and it still isn’t, but of course that doesn’t stop me from thinking so. And 14 months later, I am talking to Austin. Did I used to be like this? No. You didn’t used to overanalyze, or underanalyze. If you did, you didn’t show it. You had a balance in the middle. You weren’t overly cocky, and you didn’t hate yourself. And no, you didn’t worry all the time. And it’s like after all of this, I finally realized that it’s true. I used to be her. The girl that many people liked, nice to everyone, trusting. Drug free, smart, had everything. Wasn’t too sad or too happy, had great balances everywhere. I wonder if I’m ever going to be anywhere close to her again, if I can ever wake up in the morning and be her. I know I can’t be her completely, but if I try hard, maybe I can come a little bit close. As soon as I get the energy to try hard enough…

Stupid poem.

I think it's stupid. It's not even cute, just plain stupid. Bah.
(not that i'm not in a bad mood or anything )

1.Find A Guy Who Calls You Beautiful Instead Of Hot
2.Who Calls You Back When You Hang Up On Him
3.Who Will Lie Under The Stars And Listen To Your Heartbeat
4.Or Will Stay Awake Just To Watch You Sleep ..
5.Wait For The Boy Who Kisses Your Forehead
6.Who Wants To Show You Off To The World When You Are In Sweats
7.Who Holds Your Hand In Front Of His Friends
8.Who Thinks You' re Just As Pretty Without Makeup On
9.One Who Is Constantly Reminding You Of How Much He Cares
10.And How Lucky He Is To Have You ..
11.The One Who Turns To His Friends And Says .. " Thats Her "

1. Okay. Superficiality is the problem here I'm assuming? Either way, both words are compliments, take what you can get.
2. Why should he? You've been rude to him, and he shouldn't have to act like a fricken pushover. If you're so intent on talking to him again, you call him back.
3. Okay, I admit, this would be nice. But not all guys are overly romantic, and why should you force someone to be something they're not?
4. Alright, this might be thought of as cute. But hell, I think it's creepy. Why would you want someone to stare at you while you're sleeping? Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeepyyyyyyyyyyyyy.
5. Kisses your forehead? Alright, maybe thought of as cute as well, but what if your forehead is really gross or something? And what's so good about a forehead anyways?
6. Alright, fine. But who says he needs to show you off anyways? Just the fact that he likes you should be enough, but some females just have to want more.
7. Fine. This is the only one I don't disagree with hugely. But again, if you know he really likes you, handholding shouldn't have to happen.
8. Alright, I guess this shows how he's apparently not superficial.
9. I actually think this would get quite annoying. Every day " I care, I care, I care!". After a while, I'd get bored and tell him that I knew it already, and to please be a little more discreet. Actions do infact speak louder than words.
10. See #9. (And after you've been so bitchy with the previous things, maybe he really isn't all that lucky...)
11. That's her eh? Define her. This is completely non specific. If his friends had any brain, and they weren't talking about the fact that you two were going out, prior to your b oyfriend's comment, the most common answer would likely be "who?". Do you really want to look that silly?

So in conclusion, whoever wrote this poem seems to me to be a hopeless romantic. A fairly silly one at that. Obviously their intentions were good, but come on. Good intentions, bad writing.

Dream Girls

it's times like these when you wish you were someone's dream girl. when you wish that someone cared about you in that sort of way. that your words were perfect, along with your face; or at least some part of you. that you had some kind of talent that would make him notice you, but right now you're almost as talentless as someone can get; minus a few exceptions. you're not pure, not perfect. you've had your share of ups and downs, more downs than ups lately, but who really cares other than your close friends? one by one, you watch as they march off with someone else, and come back to you either discussing problems or telling you how much they like each other. it's nice to hear for a couple minutes, until the jealousy and sadness start to kick in. until there's nothing more at that moment you want than to be with someone; to feel how much they like you. but right now, that someone isn't out there. they haven't been for a while. it's been so long since you've felt his touch, and now all you want to do is build over it and go back and erase it. and it was so long ago, new opportunities haven't popped up since then. how can you build your life on opportunities when there's nothign to build on? you look at their girlfriends, who are all so pretty and appear to have so much going for them. every glance is another reason to notice flaws in yourself, the ones that only you seem to see.

Purposes

I wonder where everyone is really going in life. Some people are living their lives to the fullest, getting out there, and being whoever they want to be without concern for too many of the consequences. Living life in the fast lane, as we might like to call it. Some live life in a slower lane, afraid of what some people think, and worrying over the smaller things. It doesn't necessarily mean that either one of these people is wrong, it's just a different life strategy, and everyone has their own. Do we really have choices; and can we all control our feelings? Not necessarily, but that doesn't mean we can't try to live out our life to the fullest. Take charge, what's your purpose? Have you found it yet? If not, are you looking? Where are you going, what do you want to be? Are you running towards the truth or running from it? All important points to consider. Learn who you are as best as you can, try to find out the meaning of the feelings in your head and what's causing them. Have you got any regrets? Merriam Webster dictionary defines a regret as " to be very sorry for something". It's okay to feel bad about things, and to wish they didn't happen, but you are the one who chooses if these things effect you in your current stage of life. It's possible to break free if you try hard enough, but again, it's all up to you. Only you can control this kind of thing. We can always try to do what we want when we want; trying not to regret anything, but this isn't necessarily the best strategy. If we live our lives without regards to the consequences, we're bound to run into trouble somewhere, so all angles must be considered. Despite the fact that our lives are in our hands, there is also a lot of outer influence. No one makes all of their decisions completely by themself; and it's okay to ask for help sometimes. We'd never find ourselves completely if we didn't have others to help us. Even if we try to live our life to the fullest, we can still fail. There are still constraints to everything, but that's life. We've got to try to make something of it. And remember, you have the most influence over yourself. Use that influence as much as possible.

On a last note, "Do you serve a purpose or purposely serve" (from 'Omega' by Stone Sour)
Are you living life for you or someone else?
If you're living for someone else, is that person still going to be important to you in 10 years?
Will you be able to go on without that person if they leave, or have you become completely dependent?
And most importantly, how much control do you actually have if you're basing everything you think about yourself on someone else?
Think about it.

Grape suckers and broken hearts

I guess I’ve just started to think how cute little kids are. I’m sitting on the 60 waiting to go home so I can help my mom wash her hair. It’s like the sight of them almost brings me to tears, in a good and bad way at the same time. It makes me happy that their mom is treating them nicely and letting them sit where they want to. The girl, Melissa (or so I’ve heard) is wearing a cute little tanktop and short set which is blue and says princess on it. A package of cigarettes (a brand I’ve never heard of) is sticking out slightly from their mother’s backpack. For a second I wonder why she started smoking, and then I feel a little mad because her kids are probably inhaling secondhand smoke. I guess I can always hote that she smokes outside. The topic of smoking clouds my mind for a second (no pun intended :P). I think I’ve finally realized that there’s no real point to smoking, I mean not that I didn’t before, but still. All it does for the most part is waste your money and shorten your life one slow drag at a time. I guess that some people could argue--- wow. Now one of the kids is talking about how “daddy got in trouble with the police”, but one is arguing that he didn’t. I guess the parents are divorced. I wonder how that would be…I think I’d probably hate that. The little girl has just told her mom that she loves her. It’s adorable. I guess it makes me want to cry, again. The fact that this girl who can only be about 5 or 6 has such an unconditional love for someone, one that isn’t going to hurt, at least for now. One that’s going to last long where she doesn’t have to worry about someone breaking her heart. The smell of her grape sucker combined with the heat and my small lunch is making me nauseous. They’re getting off the bus now and walking down another cracked Millwoods sidewalk. I wonder where these innocent little kids are going in life. I know that one day they’re going to go through something terrible and feel like they can’t even recover, maybe even like they’re going to die. It might tear them apart from the insides while other people watch because they can’t even help. Unfortunately every single person has one of these events in their lifetime. The bend or break, fight or flight kind of situations. I still believe that everyone has the potential to get back up from these events; but not everyone uses this potential. I ride home with a heavy heart today, not because everyone goes through bad times---but because there seems to be so much opportunity in the world that’s often hard to take advantage of. Not everyone is brave and courageous, not everyone can say what they want when they want. People can’t just go around confessing their feelings and be accepted every time they do so. Some people can pick themselves up really easily because they love themselves and have self confidence, but not everyone does, and that’s the sad part. I suppose all we can do is keep trying—pushing harder to the bravery end of the spectrum and hoping it pays off (although no one can guarantee it will). But what happens when our will to try runs out?

Him.

I sit silently on my bed as he walks out of my room for the last time ever. He doesn't shut my door, but walks limply out and down my hallway, for the last time. And I am numb. I'm not sure whether it's from the fact that I am feeling too little, or feeling too much. Can I accept that it's over, or do I even really know what's happening? He has been crying for the past couple hours, and I am crying with him; I am crying with him as he promises over and over to kill himself, for I am the only girl that he will ever love. I am crying as he screams and cries and tells me not to, but I hold my ground. I am grabbing his arm as hard as I can and trying to prevent him from leaving, and he almost succeeds b ut does not really go, so I win this time. If I think back hard enough, I can still feel his arm in my hand, I can still feel my grip and my desperation, but mostly the guilt which ate at my insides those months ago. I can still see the knives in my kitchen. And I can see myself in my Chargers sweatsuit in front of the full length mirror in my parents' room, telling my mom that this is all my fault. I am so drained that I'm not sure how much longer I will be able to feel for. I cry and I cry and cry and nothing can take away how wrong I feel. How bad I feel, that I did something wrong. I wake up and Thursday is the happiest day of my life, I am happy and running around my math class and telling everyone what happened, because I am so relieved and maybe if I tell enough people, I will be able to start over quicker. I guess it isn't true. I guess it isn't true as I sit here many months later, on April 13, 2005. I think back and wish I could block it all out, but I can't. He is still dating Krysta like he was a year ago, and there is nothing I can do, and I cannot go back and make him keep his promise. I cannot go back and let him run out my door to go kill himself. I cannot rewind and put down the cigarette or put down the pipe or put down the bottle. I cannot go back and erase my promises. I can't fix what I've done, except to quit. I can stop this, and I remember the promise I made to myself about 8 days ago. Never again. I still wonder what he is doing. I still think about what happened on New Years. I still think about him, every single fucking day. And about how he won't disappear from my mind. He is stuck, and so am I. And my only option left is to pull myself completely out- but can I do this? I wonder...

Old friends.

This is so weird.
Everyone might remember how me and Megan used to be really great friends. The typical, out of the textbook sleepovers every weekend doing silly things together type friends. You know the kind and so do I, I don't even need to type out all the silly inside jokes, and everything we did.
Although we sort of split apart, sadly.
Brandon came into the picture, I got really sad, and she drifted out. And then Heather came along, and the drifting continued. I guess I never really liked Heather, mostly because I was really jealous of her-- she was a little bit pretty and she'd "taken" Megan from me. As retarded as that sounds, it was how I felt. I was angrier at her as time went on, and I even quit eating lunch with them because I felt so left out. They called me creepy, or something. And said to Devon behind my back that I was too sad, or something. I'd make a comment about something and they'd call me creepy. So I just stopped; and started eating with Kaitlyn, Jayme, Carisa and Ashley. I don't like Carisa that much, but whatever, it's a take what I can get type thing. They are nice to me most of the time.
Well, I was having this long talk with Austin the other night. After he's broken up with Stephanie, we've gone back to being really good friends.
We were talking about how Megan and I had drifted, and he said that if I wanted to go back to being best friends with her, chances are I could, and that I should try. I wasn't sure I wanted to though, but I was trying to think about it.
The next morning, none other than Megan walks into my work. I'm at till 14, and she whisper-shouts "RACHEL". And I was like, holy shit. She'd come in for a job interview, which basically meant she was going to be working there soon. Then she went through my till with her dad a while later and left.
I come on msn later that night and first thing she says is "SUPERSTORE BUDDIES FOR LIFE!<3" and it was weird cause for a sec things were back to how they used to be. Just for a sec.
And I think I want them back.
I think Steph is mad at me though, because I'm being such a hypocrite. I usually do this though, I can't make up my mind, and I end up looking like a hypocrite. True that that I called her a slut infront of Steph and Jeff, and I said I'd make comments to her the next time she wore something that didn't fit. I want to tell them that maybe I didn't really mean it, maybe I just said it because I was so mad at her, for I'm not sure what, but now that I've realized she isn't mad at me, I just want her back as a friend. I know what she wears bothers me, but a lot of things do and I probably shouldn't be so judgemental.
That's another problem with me, I want everyone to like me so I try and make everyone happy. One day I'm scared it's going to get the best of me and I'm going to be running around like crazy not knowing what to do. I just think I should try to be friends with Megan again, and hope Steph doesn't get mad.
On another thought, Jeff won't quit running through my mind, and I hate it. It's like he's always there, I mean he's a great friend. But I'm just going to be sad again when I see nothing is happening. I don't want to end up crying over something like this again, but I probably will. That's another bad thing.

So why can't I find any good things, what the hell's with this? Grr, I'm not sure.
But I'm so confused. I hope I can stop liking him, but that's most likely to not happen until he formally has to reject me. Great, now the waiting game. I've been waiting for so long...so how long until someone shows up that actually likes me?

Cycles

I'm lying alone on the floor of my bathroom. It's Saturday night, and I am home alone, rather than being out and doing something. I attempt to get up again, but the pain of my emotions force me back onto the cold blue and white tile. I lie with my face pressed into them, sobbing until I'm not only choking on my own air, but on my own tears. Each breath is like a struggle, a struggle I don't want to face, but do anyway. "It's okay," I tell myself. "There's someone else out there...I swear."
This brings on a fresh cascade of tears, I do nothing to stop them. The music plays over and over in my head, along with my thoughts. I tell myself I have to do something, and I pull off the floor. I walk back into my room to my computer, and tell him to have a good night. The tears still come as I switch off my monitor and collapse into bed, waiting for the next time. Waiting for the next day to possibly bring some hope into my situation. This is all lost for a moment, and I fall into a drug induced sleep. Then, I wake up and do it all over again. How charming.

I miss the old times. Like the ones fairly far back, just everything. I live in the past now, and it's hard when it stays like this. When I can't sever the ties because I want what I had back, but really I just want it all to fade to black. And slip,slip,slip away. I miss the old times. I miss walking down the street holding hands. I miss being drug free. I miss the promise I had that I would never smoke a cigarette. That I broke, one inhale at a time. I miss my old friends. I miss the dancing with Davis at diabetic camp. I miss me and Jenny's foam night. I'm going to miss Gib when he dies from bone cancer that is killing his cells one bit at a time. I miss nights staying out late on our front porches with Justin, Nathan, Sheri and Jessica. I miss Nicole M's mini backyard pool, I still remember the day we were singing to Kiss From A Rose on the way home from somewhere. It was so loud and no one had even blasted music around me before. I remember making friendship bracelets with her. I remember when me and nathan and candice and nicole wrote her a note about how we thought she was behaving, and I delivered it. And she cried. And I felt horrible. I miss the long bike rides, and the time my blood sugar got low and I crashed into the back of a parked car. I miss going for slurpees late at night. I miss doing things late outside at night. I miss those little pink glasses I had in Grade 2. I miss the dogs that used to live in the backyard. I miss playing random nintendo at Nathan's with Justin until our brain turned to mush. I miss the trampoline at Grandma and Grandpa's, and how the stars looked outside. And when I was there, I missed home and my friends. I miss the sailing trip so badly that words can't describe it. Every single day of that damn thing, I miss. Many many moments. I miss going to the park afterschool pretty much everyday in grade 5/6. I miss when the boys chased me around, haha. I remember the day when Greg got stung by a wasp. I remember when we all used to go skating in the winter. I remember when me and Monica and Sheetal hung out all the time in the summer, rollerblading, biking and playing badminton in the middle of the road in the dark. And cars would come, and we'd scream. I miss trying to run outside in the hail, and my mom yelling "YOU GET INSIDE RIGHT NOW." I miss the happy music, over and over again. I miss our kickball games in the back alley by Nathan's. I remember drawing all over with sidewalk chalk. I miss days at Austin's. I miss the day we drove down a gravel road at 80km/hr in an Escalade. I remember sitting downstairs at his house with him and Megan, and him always jokingly wanting to watch the porno channel. I miss the hippie girlfriends. I miss when we were so drunk that we had to walk TJ home and he was still drunk and puking. Everyone always puked but me. Maybe I was a strong drunk, but it doesn't matter anymore. I had to hold that empty chip bag while heather puked and it was gross. I don't have much to show for that. I don't have much to remember for that time period. I remember the first time I got stoned, in Brandon's room with AJ and Shane. I remember nights with Mark and Austin and Megan and Me. I remember the good times, and the bad ones too. But for this thing's sake. The good things. So now, I sit. Crying and listening to the same song over again, and hoping something will change. Maybe it will, maybe it won't. The question is whether I can keep on trying. I guess we'll have to see.

the lack of other fishes.

You and me.
Meant to be.
Immutable.
Impossible.

-Stand Inside Your Love by The Smashing Pumpkins

Impossible, the key word in most cases. Or at least most of mine.
Ever notice that no matter how many people tell you the cliche line "there's more fish in the sea", it doesn't make you feel any better, much less acknowledge that? When you have feelings for someone, you have feelings for that person. It doesn't matter how many cute people they throw at you, nor does it matter who did what.
You seem to want that person, and only that person. If you can't have them; you won't even feel half special, no matter how many nice comments other people throw at you. Your image only matters to that one person, at least for now. Notice the fact you barely ever get a chance with that special person.

Then, the case progresses. You continue to have feelings for the same person, only now they seem to be increasing in intensity (forgive the predictability). Unfortunately, you don't want to tell them. "What will they say?" "We are good friends, it'll get weird!" "No, I don't think I can." "I'm too shy." "They'll never like me back, what's the point?" "It'll just feed his/her ego."
Excuses, excuses, excuses. Sometimes it's all you ever seem to do, make excuses for things. This is most likely because you're so worried about what others will think--especially that special person. Of course you can't tell them, you like them too much to even let them know, ironically.

Maybe you're scared of what they'll think, maybe you're scared that things will get weird. Or maybe you think you might look stupid, or will feel embarrassed. Seems to me like you don't want to tell them just because you're finally admitting we have a crush on them. It's a kind of closure that you aren't ready for yet. You're putting it out in the open, and actually acknowledging the fact. You're telling them you like them, so of course that means that you do, and it might not stop anytime soon. You can't deny it much longer. You've told them how we feel, and there is no turning back now. Occasionally, and I mean on fairly rare occasions, they feel the same. It's a "wow, I was about to tell you the same" type thing, which sometimes happens for people in good situations. And notice that by sometimes, you basically mean never.

More often, it's "sorry...I don't feel the same", "oh" or "I'm sorry, I just think of us as friends". What then? You've poured our heart out, only to realize that they don't feel the same, and now things have a fair chance of becoming awkward. It hurts to know that you do in fact actually have a crush on this person, and you've used up your last bit of courage (and chances not to mention), on telling them how you feel.
They are going to walk back down the street you just walked up together, and they are going to get back on their bus that sends them to their part of town. The streetlights are going to shine dully down on the black pavement where yesterday's rain still lingers. You accidentally step in a puddle but continue on towards your destination. Maybe home, maybe not. Maybe anywhere...You'll walk the opposite way, feeling slightly better, but still so empty. They really don't feel the same, despite everything you tried to tell them. No chance, just as you suspected in the beginning, before the hope got to be more than you could bear.

Climb into your car, drive home, and proceed to play sad music on repeat while you finish yesterday's ice cream. Then crawl into bed, play the day over 10 times in your head, and shut off your lights because you're on the verge of a drug induced sleep. But despite the drugs that are working to put you there, you probably won't sleep that much anyway. Thoughts are going to run through your head until the point of exhaustion.

When you wake up in the morning, you're going to vent to your friends, maybe they'll help you, and maybe they won't. Chances are, they're going to tell you that there are "other fish in the sea". Like it even matters to you now. The only fish you wanted has just slipped off your line and is swimming quickly away, as your boat drifts away into nowhere. Notice that these are the same friends whom you told that they'd always have a chance, that they could always do something. But of course you can't follow your own advice and it sure isn't going to help you now.

All that's left to do is wait. Wait until you start lusting over the next person. Only time will tell when this happens, but of course you're going to be scared while you wait. Sitting alone and wondering, who is going to be the one to crush your spirit....this time.

Gymnastics.

I miss gymnastics really badly, despite the fact I wasn't very good. If I could lose 30 lbs, I might just be able to get back into it, but I doubt it. I still want to though. I miss the smell of the gym, and the chalk. And jumping into the foam pit, and flipping and running and cartwheeling. I miss the back handspring attempts and the very first time I succeded at a balk walkover--when the gym was in its old location on Wagner Road. I miss the swinging on the bars, the chalk going everywhere and getting on my clothes which made me mad at the time, but wouldn't bug me now. I even miss the rips, and the pain. And the elation when you landed something, when you did something right. I learned a pullover, and once I could do that, I did a back hip circle. And then I was going to learn a kip, but I quit. I got to green and quit. And I miss it. The air trak, and falling off it. All the little girls wanting to use me as a jungle gym and crawling all over me; which really pissed me off then. But it wouldn't now, it wouldn't now...Gymnastics used to be a big part of my life; along with other things like friends, etc. Like the time I thought I had too many friends. I didn't. I didn't worry about my weight then, but now that I barely get any exercise, I'm sort of adding on the pounds. I want to get up and run, but I feel like crap. I could probably go for a good pair of running shoes right now. Instead, I sit in my basement and listen to sad songs over and over while I cry about things that can't be. It's pathetic really, but who am I to change it? I wouldn't do a good job anyway, most likely.
It's been awhile since the last time I went all out.
Or really acted like me.
Meh, I suppose there's a reason.
Emotionally, I guess I'm still sort of like a gymnast--waiting to topple off the edge.
Sort of I'm still like one, minus the courage.

Dear Brittany...

Hi Brittany;
Probably sounds creepy or something, but I was thinking about you again lately. I ride the 60 home now, your house is really close to one of the stops. I think about you when we pass by the stops, it's just by the ravine and Minchau, where we went together. Again about Nika and Lucky, we used to walk them in the ravine a lot. I don't know if you remember. Lucky has probably passed away by now, I'm really sorry. The first sleepover I went on ever was at your house. I remember that I was a little jealous of you sometimes because your parents had a lot of money. You never flaunted it, though. That was one of the things I liked about you. We rode in a limo on that birthday of yours. I can't remember who else was there, I think Anna might have been, and your cousin. If I remember correctly, all the girls were hitting on him as well as we knew how to in Grade 5. It was pretty funny. We rode a limo, it was black. I remember us standing up and yelling out the skylight "IT'S BRITTANY'S BIRTHDAY!!". I was surprised your parents didn't get mad because they were pretty strict. We were out in the limo for quite a while, and it was the only one I had ever been in, it was so fun. And you were my best friend and were there too, so that made it all the more better. When your dad paid for it, I watched him pay cash, and it was all 20s. I was surprised because I'd probably never seen that many 20s in my life. There were at least 9; and I was just stunned, lol. Little kids....We all slept on the floor downstairs, it was funny. Something else I remember about you was your watercolor pencils. I think they were your favorite method of media, like I said before, you really loved art. I remember the one time we ate too much junk food at your house, and you threw up, and I felt so bad about it. I felt like it was my fault or something, I was famous for that. Thinking things were my fault...
I also remember your newts. I remember you told me how you fed them blood worms, and I was so grossed out because I thought they were giant bleeding worms. When they weren't, I was a little surprised, but it sure was funny. I forgot what they were named :( Sorry about that...
I don't know. I just really wish I could talk to you again. Or that you'd like, appear out of somewhere, or I'd run in to you on nexus or something. You were going through sad things earlier than me, I'm so sorry I didn't understand. I ran into some of those things later, and I feel really bad for not understanding before. I guess you don't get those kind of things until you go through them yourself.
Another thing I remember is when you went to Marine Land. You really loved dolphins, and last time I knew, I think you wanted to be a marine biologist. When you came back, you brought me a paperweight with an Orca on it, you were intent on people not calling them killer whales. It was really pretty, I still have it. You also brought me a purple pencil that said "Marine Land" on it, and had pictures of marine animals. I was afraid to use it before because I was worried that I'd sharpen it so much that the logo would get cut off. I used it a lot later on, and the eraser is still gone,but the pencil is still around. It sounds so dorky, but I want to keep that pencil forever. And the paperweight too. I was really mad a couple weeks ago and I wanted to throw it at a wall, but I'm glad I didn't.
Well, I'm going to continue talking to Jeff and Brent now. Wherever you are, I hope you're sleeping well. And that you're still doing well in school and stuff.
Miss you,
-Rach

Members of the opposite (or same sex, if you're gay) are too damned hard to figure out.

If only it was like in that Switchfoot song... "like today never happened".
Not today necessarily, today was okay. But some days in general. Too bad this thing is going to have a hetero bias, oh well.
Figuring out the opposite sex. When people read this, if anyone ever does, I can almost see them cringing in disgust...well, I sure am. This is probably the hardest thing for someone to do, get into someone else's mind.
Relationships are so fucking confusing. First, you can't decide whether you want one or not. Then you're either single and lonely, or taken and dissatisfied. It just seems like it never works out; for a good majority of the time. It's not just me; but over the years things seem to get rockier and rockier. I like so many people, not at the same time of course, but manage to get rejected by every one of them, unless they like me first (which they barely ever, and if they do, they are Mr. Wrong). I can't figure out what it is about me, maybe it's nothing, but then why the hell does all of this stuff keep happening?
I'm disgusted by it, and sick of it. It's almost bordering on pathetic, like I can't do anything about it almost.
Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if I wasn't really shy. If I could actually tell the person how I really felt about them without being embarrassed, and say it properly...and in person. That'd be amazing, maybe. Or just painful, when I got the same standard "sorry, we're too good of friends" crap. Well not necessarily crap, I just hate to hear it. Such a huge disappointment, that's why I quit telling people...for a long time. Or maybe. I really want to tell the person I like now that I like him, but it wouldn't go over well at all. At least I'm doubting it. The how I doubt he feels the same, and everything.
It just doesn't stop. It's like my heart controls itself and decides to throw itself off bridges, or get eaten by dogs or something. I really don't know anymore. I fall for so many people so quickly that it's almost like it's not even worth hoping at all. I can't stop that bad habit either--hope.
Most people say hope is a good thing to have, but I don't think so. I really think that hope involves a lot of denial. If you're always hoping for something better, how are you supposed to accept that something bad has happened, and that good things don't always happen? Exactly, you don't. You just keep hoping for better, but sometimes better just doesn't come, and you end up being sadder in the end. Without hope, you can just be sad about the issue at hand, and not have to worry about it getting better.
It's weird, I guess.
And surreal.
Sometimes, your mind can warp things into being something they're completely not when you're desperate, which is even more stupid. Even if "he" says a little tiny thing, my mind warps it into something and of course it warps it into thinking that he likes me. When he really doesn't. I think that's one of the worst parts, lack of realism and too much dreaming. I used to always maintain the fact to everyone that I was this huge realist, but in reality, I actually almost dream too much for my own good. It makes me sad, because I'm always worried and sad because sometimes my dreams just don't get achieved. And sometimes they are just ridiculous to start with. It sort of seems like Greener With The Scenery by the Used... "my fingernail phase, worst has got the best of you I ask you and I know I need to change. Change. "
I do need to change, but I think something needs to come on to provoke that.
I really want to date him, but I doubt it's ever going to happen, no matter how many 11:11 wishes I use up, or what.
It's just...hopeless. In general.
So why in the hell do I feel so hopeful?

Falling

Some choices are like standing at the top of a skyscraper, staring over the 20 foot edge and wondering whether you are going to step back, jump or get pushed. Maybe you're going to get pushed, flying 20 stories down to where your body connects with the pavement and your life is ended once and for all. Now, think about it. You're at the top of the world right now. You're downtown, at the top of the highest building. Looking over the edge, and across the sky and wondering where you're going. It's your choice now, and you're the only one that can make it. Exhilarating, yes. Scary, yes. Amazing, yes. Then, something goes wrong. A shift in the air, or a bad feeling. Maybe some rain starts sprinkling out of the sky, and it increases in intensity until it's cascading over your entire body. And it's drowning you out, and wiping you out of the picture like the ugly equations you erased from that math quiz you failed. That was today, this is your life. The variables are endless, as are the thoughts crashing through your head as the storm pours down on the city. You can jump off the edge, and fly into nowhere because you feel there's nowhere to go anymore. Maybe you are making the wrong choice, and you might as well end everything now as your body flies through the harsh, cold air. Or, you can turn around and walk back. You can walk off that roof and down the blue set of stairs that you climbed half an hour ago, dodging the security guards who are probably searching for you right now, wondering where the hell you went as the intensity of the storm increases and wind howls around the building. Maybe someone's out there with you, to keep company, to sabotage, maybe both. Maybe they're a big fake, and you can do nothing about it. They could be just waiting to push you, watching as you fall and scream for your life, knowing the end is there but unable to do anything about it. Or maybe you sit there, and wait for something to happen. Breathing normally, you shoot back to reality, to the real scene, your actual life, snapping back to what's actually going on. Is this choice what you really want? You can't go back.

latest, newest rant. god. i am such an idiot.

So, you "Want to be the girl he points to, and says 'that's her'" eh?

And what if he's saying something bad. What if he's pointing and laughing at you? Maybe you deserve it, idiot. For making up such a stupid quote. We all know you want to be his girlfriend, but maybe you should get out there and try something for once? If you just wait, and suffer in silence, then no one is going to see anything about you. No one is going to see that maybe you have something great inside. Show yourself. Get out there. And then dear, maybe he will point to you, maybe he will say "that's her", even though your quote is stupid.
Maybe maybe maybe.
Life is so full of maybe.

Brittany. There's so much to say about you. I can't remember perfectly back into Grade 5 and 6, but what I remember are good memories of you. I miss you terribly and I still feel like an idiot. There's this one scene that keeps playing over and over in my head. My blood sugar was low at the park, it was summer. And my dad had Jenny outside, and he forgot to keep track of time. So I went to your house, and you gave me oreos. And I sat on that chair in your kitchen and called my dad, on your red phone that reminds me of a fire engine now. I'm not sure why. You were an amazing friend, you never talked about me. You were nice and you let me come over and we used your art supplies, you were amazing at art. And we went on your computer, and you made my my first hotmail account, I never forgot. You always told me not to bump the scanner, because it was really sensitive. You got upset when I did, so I always tried not to. This one time at your house, I'm not sure if you remember, but we ate a whole bunch of chips, and then you threw up, because junk food made you sick. It didn't make me sick, but god, maybe it should've. I still remember when your horse tried to jump over the poop pail, and he tripped and you fell off. It was cold in the stable, but it was fun watching you. It was interesting. God, you loved horses so much, I never did. That's the one thing we didn't share. But we still were such good friends back then. We walked Nika and Lucky all the time. Remember when you told me her name meant "friend" in inuit? And playing those silly math games on your computer?
You always had the coolest food too, it was good. I'd look forward to coming to your house. And then there was Sapreet. And, me, the idiot. And how that one day changed everything, how you were crying, and you asked me, in the saddest voice ever, "Rachel...did you just pretend to be my friend all along?". And I said yes. I said yes, and I hate myself for it. And you looked so sad.
I had just broken your heart, but I didn't know that later on I'd have broken my own. I miss you so much. I miss our fun afternoons and the times at the park and everything. Now, the new me wouldn't have cared if you were slightly on the nerdy side. She wouldn't have minded when the popular kids didn't want her to be around you, and would have stuck by you. And wouldn't have been swayed by them. I wish I knew that then. And the more I think about it, the more I miss you. I think you moved out of Edmonton. I tried adding your old email a long time ago, but it didn't work. In short, I wish we were friends again. That day, I lost an amazing person, and I was too stupid to notice. Maybe I'm going to pay for it now...

prettyboysmakeprettygirlscry.

the pretty ones will break your heart
she told me one day, as we walked
through the broken trees, and the slushy streets
and the sidewalks, now covered in puddles
they look dead.
they look, and feels dead.
like my heart, which unfortunately
is still beating.
we plough through the mess
and she tells me about him
and what she thinks,
everything about him
and i don't want to hear it.
it hurts too much, and i am alone.
she goes on, and on and on.
if we weren't around each other so often, i would run
run and scream, to drown out the words
that are sinking through my brain like knives.
and sinking into my heart
like mud
my shoes are trapped
and so are my feelings.
for i can't handle them.
while i walk, with her
but truly by myself.
he isn't going to break her heart this time, she tells me
they are perfect, and they will be for quite a while
she has him this time, this time
it will be different.
but i wait, in my darkness, alone, i wait.
and she comes back crying,
and tells me what he has done.
and how her heart,
her heart is broken into a thousand pieces
how she should have listened to me in the first place.
and i remember what she has said;
that the pretty ones will break my heart
it's screaming in my head, "sweetheart, they already broke yours!"
but she cannot listen, as she is still going on, and on and on
so i shrug my shoulders, and get off the bus
and continue to walk, with my thoughts tumbling inside my head.
for it's not her, but me that is gone
and i slowly walk away, into the cold winter air
but i am still walking.
i am still walking on my own one way street to nowhere.
not sure which side of me to trust.

Pull the trigger and the nightmare stops.

Think of all the things you did before, write them in a letter that says reborn.
This is pretty much what I wish you would do, despite the fact you always hated Coheed and Cambria. You were the type of amazing close minded individual a lot of people could fall for...okay, so by a lot of people, I meant me. Except this time there was a difference, you fell back. At least at the beginning. Now, you've changed. We don't talk, except to argue over which of our favorite bands is better. I don't like the Blood Brothers, you still hate Avenged Sevenfold, like you did before. Before, it was different. We could accept the differences we had, and we lived with them and still were friends. We went to your house a lot, you've never been to this end of town. It was close to an hour bus ride there, and you never came here, although I didn't mind that. I'd ride the six to University, and hop the LRT until the second last stop. I loved riding the LRT by myself, I barely ever went on it, and when I did it was a signal that I was going to see you. I anticipated and as it went past Bay and Churchill and Central, the feelings got better. We'd meet at your stop, and walk the 10 blocks to your house on the North side of town. You told me stories as we walked, the story about that factory that burnt down, or whatever it was. And how you were there, and what you felt. I've always been a feelings person. We'd get to the field near your house, and make fun of the things like the Love Boutique. The first time I came, my mom gave me a ride. We got lost on the way. And then you gave me the wrong house number, I still remember. Your little sisters were so cute; they danced to the Unicorns, we both thought it was adorable. I guess one of the things I remember most is the futon. The squeaky one that you slept on. We'd lay on that together, and it was kind of like just sitting around and dreaming. It was happy. I wish we could go back. We could have laid there for hours, I bet. I remember the time we watched the Butterfly Effect. I was barely paying attention to the movie, I was paying more attention to what you looked like, and how you were feeling. At the time, I wanted to freeze the moment in my memory, and some days now I want it to melt away into the cracks of my mind. I don't remember what day you told me you liked me. But you did. "Rach" "I think I like you" or something similar or to that effect. I was so happy. And I liked you back, but I didn't say it. Maybe things would have been different if I did. I would take myself back if I could. I wanted to be around you a lot of the time. You were fun, and it made me happy. I miss those days. A while later, something happened, and you didn't like me anymore. Bright Eyes is my favorite artist now. I wonder if you know. I wonder if you remember the first song I listened to, because of you. It was Something Vague. Do you remember the time you told me to listen to The Tide by The Spill Canvas? I love them now. I guess I just wish I could go back. Things definetely aren't the same now. You had a girlfriend, and then you liked Steph. Now we argue over stupid things. You said I was annoying. I'm not sure you even respect me anymore, and I doubt that that will change. Do you know that I felt bad when you didn't add me to your new msn, because I thought you hated me or I did something wrong? I wonder if us being on each other's friends list on nexopia is just a pointless facade. I know you felt really guilty about leading me on before, and I've accepted that, even though it's still upsetting. I guess I miss the older you. A lot. Maybe you miss the old me, but I doubt that. We're both different now and we have to move on. Okay, so I have to move on...I'm living in the past I guess. I wonder how you'd feel if you read this. You'd probably think I'm stupid, and what's to say that I'm not? Nothing, that's what.
I'm not sure. I guess I just wish things would go back to the way they were, and I suppose it sucks that they never will.

How does it feel to know?

How does it feel to know
That every secret you tell someone
Is most likely going to get told to someone else,
And you're never going to know.
That things that appear too good to be true
Usually are, and if you accept them
Then you're going to fall
And not be able to pick yourself up.
And sweetheart, how does it feel to know
That people are lying to you, right this second,
And they're using you to get what they want
But it's up to you to figure it out before you get hurt.
How does it feel to wake up in the morning
And wish you could curl up, and back in to bed
And stay there forever, because maybe, just maybe
It might stop the hurt.
You struggle through your schoolwork
Trying as hard as is possible for you
At this moment, and pulling off
70s, maybe lower, and having to be proud
Because that's the best you can do
When a million other thoughts are running through your head
And you can't shut them out, but you must face them
With the courage, of the soul inside you
The soul you don't have.
How does it feel sweetheart,
To know that it already happened?
To know that it's all true.

Lyrics of the moment. Breaking Benjamin--So Cold.

Crowded streets are cleared away, one by one
Hollow heroes seperate, as they run

You're so cold keep your
Hand in mine
Wise men wonder while
Strong men die

[Chorus]
Show me how we end this alright
Show me how defenseless you really are
Satisfied and empty inside
That's alright, let's give this another try

If you find your family, don't you cry
In this land of make-believe, dead and dry

You're so cold, but you
Feel alive
Lay your hands on me
One last time

[Chorus x2]

It's alright [x9]

So; this isn't really a rant. But I guess it needs to get done.

Dear Brandon,

It's been a year since we broke up. A year ago today. I figured I needed to write this, just to tell you that I'm over you, and things aren't going to bother me as much as they used to. I have new friends now, people who really care about me for who I am, and who are going to stick by me. They're not going to go hideously depressed on me, and they're not going to make themselves bleed and make me feel bad.
Maybe you were trying to do the best, I'm not sure, I'm kind of trying to understand how it was from your point of view. You said you loved me, but did you really? I don't know if you actually put the meanings behind the words. I thought at one point you were just trying to get into my pants, because you kept asking me to have sex. At points I wanted to, but I'm glad I stood my ground because it was a good choice for me.
I'm over you now, and I don't want to go back. I don't want to do much drugs anymore, I don't want to drink or smoke. What happened on New Years was a mistake. I know it, I hope you know it too. It was a bad choice on our part, and we're lucky Krysta didn't find out. I'm glad she didn't. I don't ever want something like that to happen again, it made me feel horrible after it happened. I quit drinking after that. I haven't had anything since January 1. It feels like a personal accomplishment to me, and I'm happy about that.
I think about you all the time, sometimes it's just remembering, and sometimes it's being upset. It's kind of weird, but I can handle it now. Some days I wonder if you think about me, then I realize it's irrelevant.
Nonetheless, I'm writing this just to say we're completely through now after all this time.
And you can't affect me, not anymore.
-Rach