whining.

A friend of mine, Brian, just told me today that he could die because his heart is failing. The doctor told him that his heart isn't strong enough to pump the blood through his veins, so he has to take steroids and hope something works. If not, he will probably have to get a transplant. He might die, and apparently he's actually prepared for that (or putting on a brave front, either one). That really scares me, because Brian is such a nice kid, and of course doesn't deserve this, and yada yada yada.
I really hope he will be fine. I really do. And I'm not Christian, so I can't pray, I can just hope in my heart that he will make it through this. Although I want Sean so badly right now and it's bothering me, I feel so thankful to be at least mostly healthy (minus the depression and diabetes which are infact treatable and being treated), with an $8/hr job and a family who loves me, and friends who care. I have a roof over my head, and food to eat (enough to become overweight, if I wanted! :P ).
I'm on the honor roll at school and I don't have problems with drugs or alcohol, nor do I really have any enemies. God, I'm so....lucky....is the only word that comes to mine. Even if I can't have Sean, or pass Chemistry with over 80%, I'm still so lucky.

The next time you complain about how you have no friends when you really do, or how you can't afford that iPod y ou've been looking at, or that new bike, or that hot outfit, think, for christ sakes....At least you're not dying. You've got a house. You're healthy. When is enough enough?

Apparently never. We live in such a superficial society.
-sigh-

ps-- I'm not lying, I complain also, at many points, but this is what I'm thinking right at this moment.

"slip"

original post:
nexopia blog Sunday April 23 2006

slip.I'm so confused with you right now.
It's almost like I hate (well, dislike) and love you at the same time, and don't tell me it's not fucking possible, because I feel it right now. And I think about it all the time, it's annoying the fuck out of me. If I had a snowflake for every fucking time I overanalyzed this, school would be cancelled...for the entire winter.

I love you so much, I'm not sure if it's crossed the metaphorical 'friends' line yet. I might be toeing it. I might not. Or I could be long past, but I'm not sure, either I'm in denial and I stepped over a long time ago, or I'm not and I'm just hallucinating. You know what bothers me? The fact that it could viably be either one. I just don't know. I haven't got the control in this situation that I crave.

After we grew apart a little, it started to bother me. I knew it was inevitable, with something like that presenting itself, things were never going to be the same, as much as I wished they would. And then the distance grew a little. I know you care still, but I don't know whether you care about me half as much as I care about you. We haven't seen each other in a long time, and we never talk on the phone, or anything like that. We still understand each other like we used to although things have changed, but it's difficult without the physical presence.

I miss you, I don't miss you, I hate you, I love you, I need you, I want you to get out, I want to call you, I want to hang up the phone. I want to drive to see you, I want you to make the effort first. I want to know you care, I want to know you care.

I'm driving myself fucking insane. I'm pretty sure she was right in the first place because she's smart about that kind of thing, maybe I should just leave it, but it's so hard to stay away. There's this urge to pour my heart out all the time and let me tell you, it's hard to fight. Your other friends tell me about the fun things you guys do and I almost get so jealous I can't stand it. I'm happy you've got them, really I am, but I wish I still did.

I'm going insane, or I'm just being a girl.
Either way it feels like my heart is splitting in half, the stitches popping one by one by one.

tears.

"you could so talk to her"
comes out of my mouth, when really i mean
"fuck!! she isn't even pretty!"
but of course that's not true,
i'm just jealous.

Dear World

Dear World,
When I grow up, I am going to invent a machine. It is going to be a fancy translating machine, but I haven't thought of a name for it yet.
Basically, what it's going to do is translate what things that the opposite sex say mean (if you're gay, the same sex. duh.).
For example, you plug in what someone says and it translates it into something in plain English, while factoring in emotions and brainwaves. That way, people could understand each other, and there wouldn't be so many broken hearts and screwed up situations.
Frick, I'm gonna be rich....

confused number six thousand sixty three and a half plus three quarters.

What bothers me the most is that I can't tell him. Okay, basically the whole situation bothers me. I was so okay with being single because I keep telling myself I'm too independent for a relationship, and everything was fine for about a month and a half. And then he came into my life again and everything flipped. It's like when you get toast and put the perfect amount of peanut butter on, only to drop it on the concrete and have it be useless, except for maybe some random seagulls. It was fine up to a point, getting close to being perfect and ready to eat, until you dropped it and fucked it up. And it bothers me, it's my fault, not anyone else's. Well, maybe I'm being a little too harsh....maybe it's more my heart's fault. Well, technically brain, because my heart can't think. Fuck that, maybe the two of them could have an interesting debate if it could. He's probably out partying right now, or at least hanging out with friends (people don't necessarily party at seven fifty p.m.). Maybe he's hanging out with her too? Trying to hold her hand again or sneak a kiss when she isn't watching. It almost makes me feel sick to think about it, not because it's gross, but because I know if I can't fix this soon, things are going to go a little haywire. Maybe that's putting it too mildly, or maybe too harshly, I'm not sure yet. I should probably hope she likes him back so they can date and be cute and happy while I sit on the sidelines because that's what I'm familiar with, that's what I'm used to. Somehow though, I want it to be different this time. I'm too confused. Fuck.

math plus life equals zero.

"Shit or get off the pot."
I hear Jackie's voice echo in my mind as I am folding shirts on the ever messy T-shirt table at work. Left side, right side, fold. Left side, right side, fold. Shit or get off the pot, shit or get off the pot. The phrase echoes in my mind like a million tiny needles trying to pierce my thoughts and make sense of them. Already I have a feeling it isn't going to work.
I've been thinking about breaking up with him a lot lately in the past week. I don't think he has done anything wrong, at least I can't pinpoint anything. Maybe it's the fact that I met new people in a certain class that remind me of other people. History, wonderful and horrible at the same time. I want out but I can't hurt him, I've said this to myself so many times before...My mind seems like a piece of broken vinyl, playing the same line over and over and over again until someone decides to move the spindle off the tape and quell the sound. Unfortunately the turntable is sitting in an empty room with no one around to move anything.
It's my job now, I have to figure out what to do. Too bad it's such a hard question. I'd rather have taught the entire Conics unit to myself than be weighted down with the burden of explaining my feelings, of standing up for myself. Anyone who knows me well enough knows how much this is bothering me....oh wait, that comes to, let me count...no one. Because it's my decision, unfortunately.
I hate Math, but sometimes I wish life was like it. There are many variables but in the end they always represent something, and everything adds up in the end. Rows of perfect equations show up on clean white paper, especially if you're good at finding them and solving them. 1+1 is always equal to 2, and 3+3 is always equal to 6, no matter the time, the place or the occasion. The only thing I like about Math is the order of things, the fact that there is always one solution, one predetermined answer.
Of course, life cannot be like Math, you can't just plug things into a calculator and hope things will work out. The ironic thing is that the variables are usually x and y, which are the same as the female and male sex chromosomes. I always thought that was funny.

Raindrops

Beneath a sea of delicate rain,
Delirious and weak, I swim through the mist
Clothes plastered to skin as I spin
The storm envelops me,
One smooth, crystalline droplet at a time
Comes crashing from the sky,
Plopping harmlessly at my feet.
I splash drunkenly like a child,
The one I once knew, cool and carefree
Although deep inside I know,
She is not coming back

The Truth

"You helped me a lot"
He confesses
Me, help?
Little did I know
That showing the side of me
The one with feelings
And emotions, cut hard into glass
Would help him see the other side
And be more comfortable with himself
By matching these emotions with music
One piano note at a time
I had no idea that
Soft crescendoes of hope, of misery, of light, of dark
Played in a single melody
Would help him understand that
Emotions are not a source of weakness,
But a source of truth.

Monday's Political Debate

The political debate between the federal parties of Canada was the most T.V. I've watched in a while. It was somewhat typical, like political debates usually seem to be. Each party twists their words into something that will make people vote for them, and the other candidates try to prove them wrong. Here's my spin.

I believe the most entertaining part was probably when Gilles Duceppe was arguing with Paul Martin over whether Quebec was a nation or not. Duceppe was upset because Martin and his Government hadn't been referring to Quebec as a "nation". Well no wonder, Quebec isn't a nation, it's a province. Come on Mr. Duceppe, you're refusing to call a spade a spade. However, Gilles made an excellent observation-- "Paul Martin campaigns like the NDP and governs like a Tory." This is true, but the Liberals are in the middle of the political spectrum, so it's sort of expected.

Stephen Harper answered questions like a politician, with that stupid smile on his face all the time. I hate that smile, it drives me insane! It's that "here's my politician face, I'm trying to pretend I'm happy about what I'm talking about so people will vote for me, teehee, lol". Seriously. Some of the Conservative Party's opinions seemed plausible to me, but in the meantime I want to smack that stupid smile off Mr. Harper's face with my math binder.

Paul Martin (ugly old P.M. that he is) was normal at first, but got extremely mad when arguing with Mr. Duceppe over the "Quebec is a nation/is not a nation" business. The argument got fairly heated, and let me tell you, it's rather comical to observe a politician trying to remain calm when the emotions in his head are in disarray.

Jack Layton of the NDP (duh, my favorite) had many good ideas, but unfortunately kept dodging questions. Toward the end of the debate, everything came out of his mouth as "my party wants to do this, or that, or promises this, or that" with nothing in particular relating to the question he was being asked. I'm unsure if this is because the questions were upsetting him, he didn't feel like answering them, or he didn't have the answers at all. He also did that crazy "politician hand waving thing" where he looks serious and shakes his fist around. I didn't actually notice it during the debate, but it provided for a good laugh on the way to school this morning. Even if Mr. Layton is a question dodger, however, I do wish the NDP had a strong chance to become Canada's governing party.

However, with the current poll results having 38% in favour of the conservatives and about 26% in favour of the Liberals, things appear to be getting rather dismal. We can only hope that a good government will come into play and help Canada fix some of it's problems. We must remember that at least we are not ruled by Castro, Hitler, Stalin or the like, so we at least have something to be grateful for.

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.