]:

I didn't get the job I applied for. And interviewed for.
Fuck my insightful dreams.

Say AHH-

So, I opened my mouth.
And.
Murder.

So MUCH.

I think that I don't say.
Hushed up words to not offend others.
Yet.. Those few, rare chances I take and open my mouth.
They get set up on a line and shot, execution style.

This Weekend.

I had one of my best, ever, weekends of softball. On top of horribly spraining my ankle in the first (of six) games yesterday. After a short trip to MedExpress to ensure it wasn't broken, I headed back to the softball fields, realizing I wouldn't play the 2nd game. After that game, I dove back into the sport and played some of my best games, awesome steals and hits.
After our games were finished, we were told to sit down and then our coaches talked to us. An assistant coach, without announcing names, said that I played amazingly well and put my heart and soul into the sport, despite injuries. He then called out, although without a name but clearly directed toward one specific person, that all another girl did was complain. He basically yelled at her, pushed her into tears and made her feel horrible.
Maybe I'm biased because of the crush I have on her, but it is completely unacceptable for a coach to do that, especially in front of her teammates, other coaches, and parents. I sent her a text after wards, trying to be nice and whatnot which she appreciated.
This morning, or late last night, the assistant coach sent an apology email. Sure, that was nice and all, but what really shows the character of a person is how they act, not the possible regret they feel after.
I was so upset about what he did to her; she's one of the nicest girls I know. She always apologizes for the silliest things, tries to encourage teammates, and is constantly smiling.

She's a person to look up to and degrading her is not alright.
Gah.

Well, I shouldn't be doing this.

That whole falling for a girl who is in a semi-relationship with a guy who has admitted to liking girls thing.

Her hand rested on my arm for a few extra seconds than necessary, her big, icy blue eyes gazing into mine. A few slightly adorable eyebrow raises, jokingly, but possibilities to be taken seriously remained.

Her electric energy filled the room, as it does every day. She simply radiates hope and determination.

Before you know it..

I'll be gone-

without.


a.


trace.

Heh.

I'm a fan of pretty girls.

Cooper.

I love mah puppeh.
We just spent a few precious moments outside running and rumbling around in the grass. It was the highlight of my day.

Eh.

I can't help the jealousy. Sorry.

No, mother.

I do not want to go to the pool and flaunt my scars to the people in this neighborhood. Thank you very much for the offer, but No.Thank.You.

Weren't these supposed to be gone now?

These urges to cover myself in scars and bloody, crusty red lines.

I ran my fingers along my arm, imagining feeling scabs turning into scars.

This. Is. Not. Fucking. Normal. To want to cover my entire body with lines and not give a shit about what people thought.

How can people go YEARS without discovery? Why does my mother stick her nose in my business?
I want out of fucking therapy.
I want summer to end.
I want to go back to blue jeans soaking up blood.
I want my razor back.
I want a new, sharp razor.
I want a razor to slice through my skin.
I want to watch my blood drip down.
I want to see as it beeds up along each red line.
I want you to stop fucking showering me in your triggering photos.

I thought I was a bad liar.

You have no CLUE how easily I lied.

"Can you contract for safety today?"
-"Yup."

Except, no.
Except, I didn't.
Except, ever since I've been going to this place I've cut more than I have in the past MONTH.
Except, those pictures which I try to ignore pop up all over my god-forsaken News Feed and trigger the FUCK out of me.
Except, they took my razor and I have to make due with my piece of shit clippers.


So if I can lie so easily, who is lying to me?

Blue Folder Writings #3.

Blue eyes gaze towards mine, containing a twinkle full of hope and joy. Pulls on her lips raise them into a cute smile - infectious - it jumps to my face. My hand instinctively covers my smile, unsure of what it's purpose is.

Blue Folder Writings #2.

Hollow eyes pierced with knives leak a worthless soul unable to hold love for others or herself. When gazed into by others, they allude ea presence of a happy twinkle to turn away wondering hearts with good intentions. Whether or not hopes are high, the hollow eyes contain no twinkle of happy. It is only an illusion. Only.

Blue Folder Writings #1.

Watch as the ocean's tide pulls away, leaving you standing alone on the shore. Hopes drift away and despair fills the hole left behind. Following the waves, the bright sun's shine elapsed behind clouds. Cold shivers surround a previously warm, joyful heart. Shivers are left as the only comfort, although they aren't as nice as the sun. Shakes and tremors cause violent shakes lashing out at others; no hopes of relinquishing them. As they attack every warm-hearted being around, you watch in wide eyed wonder. Weak attempts at holding shivers back results in no change as everything with nice ideas falls; no longer having an affect against mean, dangerous shakes.

Silence.

I haven't posted in a while, although I don't think it's quite as big a deal as it used to be. Other people's blogs have become much more interesting than mine, leaving this place for my words hidden under the dust.

Most of my silence was probably caused by some pretty major changes in my life. If you've been privileged to hear about them, good for you. If not, then there's some reason why I didn't tell you and that's just.. the end.

Gone.

I will be gone until a later date.

Dreams.

Dreams at sleepovers always turn out.. interesting.
Here are a few of mine:

One dream was in math class, but the desk seats were all screwed up, and I said, "Is row 3 supposed to be like this?" to which my teacher replied with a head nod. Then, someone was passing around artwork I supposedly created, which I didn't know of. It was of a desert landscape with two lovers in the forefront holding each other. There were words on it, but I can't really remember what it said.

Another was sort of me jumping in that artwork, and people were flying around on pieces of earth. Someone had a splinter, and carpenter-like people were telling the father that he needed to take better care of his son.

Lastly, was somewhat of a movie I thought I wrote, or was in. Either way, I was changing in a changing room with a bunch of people and had earlier seen a girl I guess I liked go into the showers, and I went in with her. I don't remember seeing anything, but I was happy to be in there.

And the sun passes behind a cloud and sends dark, shivering shadows throughout the room. They circle and surround my being and collapse around my heart, engrossing it with an everlasting shiver.

I think, maybe,

I think, maybe, I've been replaced.
And
I think, maybe, I should let you go.

Quote.

"I won't give up my love so fate can have its way.
...
I won't give you up, love, so fate can have its way.
...
If the stars say that you can not love me,
are you telling me that you would listen?"

-Star Crossed_Scary Kids, Scaring Kids.

Drifted Apart.

It feels as if our worlds have flowed apart. My island surrounded by torrential storms and danger; yours with sunshine and blue skies.

Maybe I'm wrong, but I don't think we fit anymore. I realize things shouldn't always be easy, but when someone's happy, the other should be helping, not making it worse. Then, the happy should try to help uplift the other, but maybe I'm wrong again.

I've just been dragging you down, I realize that. I'm sorry.

But.
You love me.
It's written on my wall.
It's written on yours.
It's engraved in our hearts.

But maybe the scarring went to deep, and maybe it stained the walls too permanently, and maybe we got too far ahead of ourselves.

These thoughts just swirl around in my head and I worry about us.
Because I see you drifting away and I see myself drowning without a life vest.
You have your friends, and whoever else to grasp your hands if you need them to, but I don't see you risking yourself whatsoever for me anymore.
I'm not strong enough to stand on my own. I never was, I doubt I will be. I need people. I can't figure out myself on my own. I need you.

Call me a bitch for not saying this to you directly, but I can't. It.. You're going to read this while you're in a good mood and then be in a shit mood. Then be pissy towards me and it'll just all fall to shit. Again.

I'm at a loss here, I don't know what to do and I'm trying to figure something out.

If you love me, everything should be okay. And if I love you, I should support you. And if we love each other, things should blend into their correct positioning.

How come they aren't?

Breathe.

In.Out.In.Out.Don'tstop.

Nothing.

I feel Absolutely Nothing.

How?

I mean, what right does she have to bitch at me over how I treat someone else? Come on, that's not alright.

How can I take on someone's happiness, and make it bloom, while I'm still trying to plant mine. It's barely started seeding and I'm sitting here trying to spread my roots to water hers. I can only go as far as I can reach.. Sometimes, you know, that's not very far.
I'm not a strong person, I can't support the weight of the world on my shoulders for too long.

I don't know..

Whether or not these things are about me, or whether or not I should try and decipher what you're saying.

I'm kind of at a loss.

In exactly..

one week, I will be ending my junior year of high school and entering my senior year.
The fuck?
How did this happen..?
I mean, I didn't expect to live through this year, yet hear I am, one year closer to graduation.
Pretty fucking freaky.


I'm still waiting on my call back from Dairy Queen to see if I get the job, and knowing my luck, they'll call sometime next week, tell me to start the following week, and I'll be in Connecticut.

Yup, I get to visit my bestfriendforlife in Connecticut for the first time in oh, two and a half years. I'm, well, you could say that I'm a little excited. [:

Events in the last little while:
I went upstairs to shower last night and as I turned on my bedroom light, I saw something next to my bed. What is it, I wondered. Well, turns out, it's a fucking huge ass spider, bigger than the size of my fist, just hanging out next to my bed. The fuck it was doing in my room, I couldn't tell you. But UGH. It was absolutely disgusting.
My homeroom was flooded this morning, and I had to sit, with the rest of my class, in the little chairs the preschool class uses.
Umum. I think that is it.
Oh, chem final. it's done. I'm completely finished with chemistry for the rest of my high school career. Wait, that's a lie. I'm taking the subject test for chem and history. Blech.

Errrr. Yeah. I'm rambling now.
Hopefully this wasn't too absolutely boring.

Iloveyou,Tia.

Last Post.

For now, as this period ends shortly.

I'm at a loss of what to do.
I can't reply to texts I've received.
I can't check Facebook to see what's going on.
I can't.Do.Anything.

I'm fearful of going insane at this point.
I was LOOKING FORWARD to going to school today, so that I could have contact with the outer world, for the first time in days. [with the exception of softball.]

Oh, yeah, we had a tournament this weekend.
Shit game on Friday, even shittier two games on Saturday, awesome game Sunday morning, then shit game in the afternoon.
That was my weekend.
I finished my labs, due Sunday at 12:00pm on Saturday at 11:45pm which was a success. On the first one, I received a 44.5/50, an 89%. I'm okay with that grade, it's better than what I usually get on lab reports.

If anyone who reads this wants to post an update on my status to itsDark here you go:

I got in trouble for well, texting in school, texting while in the bathroom, piercing my ear, breaking "every rule I was ever given", and I'm sure there was something else.. My punishment is indefinite, as always, and I have no idea when I'll be allowed to enter back into my normal life again.

Hey, you.

Yes. You.

I love you.
I love your smile.
I love your want to be happy.
I love our almost four months.
I love our possible future.
I love our now, just us, but not anything else.
I love your want for me alive.
I love your will to survive [I hope..]

DeathRainbow.

Everything is such a fucking mess of swirls of dark, deranged colors.

I have no release now, you see. No razor to free my tears. No safety pin to pierce my ear. No words to type to her. No phone to text my friend.

Everything just sits in my head, swirling into a destructive black hole.

I..really..don't know what to think.
Too many times over the last few days, I've fought with what tree I should hang from. What belt I should use to tie my neck to my bed. What place I could go to in order to.die.cease.my.breath.end.my.heart.beat.

Then.You. We haven't talked in days, I know, love. It's hard. And, I couldn't leave you.
Because along with the thought of death, the hope that we can see each other, live together, with smiles, and babies, and children, and love comes to my head.
Because I hate the fact that my death would leave you here alone and not with the hopes to survive.
Because I can't do that to you and I hate that you're the only thing keeping me alive.
Because I want our future together, so badly, but I want to GET OUT of here so, so fucking badly.

Get out.

Get out! I want you to STOP caring. GET OUT of my room! Out of my HEAD. Out of my LIFE.

You see, dear Mother, without you, nothing would be wrong. I would not be forced to fight the demon in my head so I can go out in a bathing suit with no red lines. I would never have any old scars, either. You know, Mother, life without you caring, without you staring down my back creating slow, painful trails of cold down my neck, it would be easy.

Easy to love my love.
Easy to laugh freely.
Easy to dance in the rain.
Easy to breathe.
Easy to bleed.
Easy to walk.
Easy to..live.


You seem to have caused a schism between all that is easy and all that is difficult.

Now, I find it hard to love her, as we are completely separate when I have no access to my phone or the computer.
It's hard to laugh, too, because I feel guilty that I'm doing something wrong. You know, everything I do is wrong.
I can walk in the rain, I did so just yesterday, but I'm held back. If I show my true colours, say, with a piercing, I'm wrong, again.
It's hard to bleed. Every drop of blood I lose, I know you think of the thousands of drops of blood I've made myself lose.
When I take a walk, the pang in the back of my mind sparks guilt because walking means I'm exercising means I'm not eating means I have an eating disorder.
It.Is.Hard.To.Live. With you, breathing down my neck. With you, holding my heart and head so tightly that I can't love; that I can't LIVE freely.



So STOP caring. Let me LIVE my life on MY OWN.

Here.

So. Here I am, sitting in the chem room, on a computer for the first time in days.

Days which we have spent apart and days which I have been wrapped up tightly in my head without any release.

Days where I can't see past the minute and days which take years to pass.

Days where I worry you won't know if I'm alive or not and days where I worry about your life.


So Here we are, separate but still oh so together.

Right.Write.

So I haven't posted in a long time, but nothing amazingly spectacular has happened. I have no inspiration to write, therefore nothing to write.

Um.

Did I just fuck everything up?

StrongHearted Young.

As the sharks swim their circles around the ever dissolving island, the people squeeze and squeal and scream. With ever-increasing volume, buhbum-buhbum-buhbum pounds in their ears.

What to do?! What to do?! What WILL we ever do?!

*Jump to your death, loves.* his raspy voice scrapes the insides of their ears as he whispers *Jump, swim your last stroke, and die.*

NO! they scream. We will not! We can fight!

*HA!* he says. *Like you can fight MY demons! I placed them here solely for your destruction.*

They weep, they beg, they make deals with the devil. They do everything they think possible. Other than taking action. The island is still depleting. The sharks are still swimming. The evil still buhbum-buhbum-buhbums in their ears.

Only inches left to stand on and BUHBUM-BUHBUM-BUHBUM in their ears penetrates all blockades of hope. Surging headaches rage through their heads as their eyes tear from the noise, fear, hopeless agony.

*Hehehe* he cackles. *There is no hope for you.*

Please, please, please! They beg, again.

*Why should I save your meaningless lives?* he questioned. *What purpose would that serve me?*

He watches on as sweat beads form on their brow and as veins protrude from their stressed necks and bodies.
He watches on as a small girl, barely three years of age, turns her head upwards towards the blue skies.

With a strong, yet wavering childish voice, she tells her family, "Why should we be afraid? Have you not looked upwards to the beautiful skies?" She asks this of them, though knows already to not expect a response. Continuing on, she informs them of the hopeful birds. "My family, these pure white winged birdies fly above our heads. Did you not hear the gentle flapping of their wings? Surely it overpowered the evil splashes of the sharks."

The young girl reasons with her family, showing them what wonders soar above them while their eyes remained focused on the evil below.

Hah.

Don't you fucking lie to me.

Dig.

A deep hole in the middle of my chest.

And w-a-t-c-h my insides spill out.

See how vulnerable I can become.

Observe as my armor fades away.

see.me.fall.apart.

Isitsowrong?

That I'm jealous.

He followed through. He did IT.

And I'm too fucking scared.

Avoidance.

Truly one of the safest things.


Because when I avoid, I don't get stressed.

Before, when I let things in, I got stressed. And I got worried. And then I got unacceptable grades. That's not okay.

So I'll avoid topics that cause stress or tension. Then we'll be okay, right?
Nothing to worry about because we avoided it. It's not really there.

Freetime.

It's almost a foreign concept and I'm just now becoming acquainted with it.

I have time to go out to dinner with friends.
I have time to watch TV for a half hour without feeling guilty about not doing homework.
I have time to..just..not stress or do homework or study or worry.

But. With all this time. I can't get lazy. I will NOT sit here every day doing nothing. Next week, I'm going to start exercising and being healthy and not being a lazyfatass.

This is good.
Exercise is good.
Staying in shape is good.
Free time is good.

Future?

With you, of course, my love.

Image from https://postsecret.blogspot.com

I think there's two.

Setting: Taking an exam in a large room filled with nearly a hundred people.
Thoughts: Oh, damn. We don't know the answer to this. We'll go with this choice, then.
OH! We know this one. We'll go with this.
Hmm.. We'll stick with this answer, then.

What if there's really two up there, and the other only comes out sometimes.
I'll catch myself thinking "We" a lot, often when making decisions. It's a bit frightening.

Moon.

*I see the moon and the moon sees me.
The moon sees someone I'd like to see.*

Let's lay, under the moon. Where the stars kiss our cheeks and fireflies dance among the grass.Children giggling, capturing the happy lights in jars.
Soft tickles of grass on our faces, the sweet smell of summer filling our noses.
Bright, sometimes orange, let him soar above us. Connecting the hundreds of miles and erasing them.
He created a bridge for us to cross, and we are together; united, despite separation.

Images from http://amolife.com/image/

Depths.

A lot of the time, I can't understand what is being said while the band is screaming and pushing out all the notes possibly played in a few seconds. I let this noise absorb me and take me past where I am - into some dark place, covered by noise and surrounded by flashing dark images.

When I reach this place of complete darkness and flashing images, I sink into myself. Deep, deep down and forget how to think. Thoughts previously assumed and contemplated fly away, too light and airy for the depths of my current state of mind.

Until I receive an interruption from some outer source, I hover here and sink. Hover and sink.. No, those words don't go together. But, then again, they do. In a perfect, odd pair sort-of-way.

Um.

I apologize for the lack of depth in my posts.

Write.

I think I'll write you a letter today.

Questioning.

Does anyone really care?

Sure, the way I am may affect them - what I say, what I do.

But, the people I pass by every day in the halls. Do they care?

Probably not, because as far as I can tell, I fade into the background.

Maybe?

Maybe this raging headache that I can't think through will end up being a brain hemorrhage that can kill me.

That this is all the pain I'll have to suffer and I can move on to [maybe?] a better life.

Raging.

Poundthumpsearingpain.

I can barely look at the screen before the whiteness enters my head like a white hot iron scoring a bull.

Manicinsanecrazygirllaughter.

I walk down the halls and think. Think thoughts that don't make sense to me.

Stressnauseahomework.

I take a breath before I forget to inhale again and remember the milelong list of work that needs to be done and things that need to be attended and people that need to be pleased.

It's Not Easy.

And as night turns to morning and morning into later days, the hurt I feel is stronger than before.

Howcouldshe?
Whywouldn'tshetalktome?
Howcouldshe?
Shecould'vetoldme.

See.

Why can't you see with my hands holding your fucking eyes open?

Shout Out.

You're out there talking about what just happened. What you're about to do.

I'll say hushhush, like always. And take my mom's anger. And not cry. And seal my lips.

Sofuckingwhat.
I'm giving up.
You gave up.

Fucking pile of goddamn horse shit.

Wondering.

Today:
End of the long car ride home.
Playing around in the car.king up do
Parents inside picg.
Fake punches.
"I'll cut you" I said jokingly.
"You already cut yourself" she lashed.
"You bitch" I retaliated.
Silence.
Fuming anger.
How could she?
Of course she knows,
but how could she?

Yesterday:
Leaning on my arm watching the billboard.
She stares at my wrist.
"What are you looking at?" I question.
"Your bracelets" she replied.
Your scar, she probably thought.

Glances over at her phone.
She deletes messages.
One from cousin, after I changed in the room.
*delete*
What did it say?

Breathe.

Such a simple action, yet..sometimes I forget to do it. My body is on autopilot, as usual, and it malfunctions. The world around me is suffocating me and taking away my oxygen.
Side effects include:

blurred vision, anxiety, headaches, exhaustion.

Now. Give me my oxygen and stop covering my head with this fuckingplasticbag. I can't do it, world. I can't fight while I'm not breathing.

New.

I followed my dearest friend and made some changes (quite a few, actually) to the blog.
Hopefully, you'll enjoy the new view.

Struggle.

She said, "It's nice not having to struggle."

But I do. Every minute. Of Every Day.

Flashing Pictures.

What do I do to stop them? The images of taking a nicebigknife, placing it against my arm, dragging it up, back down, until I'm left with nothing but
redarms
..drip
...drip
....drip

Simply sitting after the standardized tests today brought about this
Visualization.
Urge.
Temptation.

I'm scared of what people are saying about the two centimeter long scar forming on my forearm. How could I live with inches of scar trailing up my arm? I'd be hospitalized for sure. People would freak out. I'd be prevented from using the computer.

You know.. it's not a death wish.
I just want to bleed b l e e d prettyredblood.

I'm being strong though. It's been five days since my last cut, which I didn't even like. I haven't gone this long in weeks..months? I forget...

Hollowed.

So she told me that people only need one meal today.
And SHE told me that I need to gain weight, I'm all skin and bones.

But, when I grab my sides, I pull fat away. But, when I look down at my legs, I see poundsandpounds of unnecessary body mass. But, when I pinch my stomach, I tug at layers of fat.

Why do I need to gain weight? Why do I need to eat more? I can settle with the hunger, now. I don't need a snack between breakfast and lunch or lunch and softball. It makes me faster, less wight holding me down. My head floats up to where thoughts don't make sense, past the searing pain behind my eyes. I can manage it now.

So. You can tell me that I'm a skinny girl. You can tell me I need to gain weight. But I will continue pushing and eating when I need to. Not excess. Sorry I made you buy the m&ms. I'll have a few every once in a while, but not like I did. No, I really don't need them.

This is for ME. I don't want to end up like you did. You said you were my weight yearsandyears ago. You let yourself go and you know it. Good for you that you're working hard again, that you lost all that weight and are staying healthy for yourself and your family. But. I'm not going to have to do that because I'm going to STAY healthy. No extra fat for me to work off later in life. I'm just fine now.

Running on Empty.

I seem to be running low on inspiration lately. Every time I try and focus on something, my eyes feel like they're going cross eyed and my head hurts, just behind my eyeballs. Right now, while I'm typing this I'm wanting to turn away and stop because it just hurts.

There's some pressure pushing out, again, and I don't know what it is or how to tame it. There's nothing wrong with me physically, there never is. But when I try to tell my mom that my stomach is in my throat waiting to come out and my head hurts and I'm not hungry and I'm dizzy, she checks my temperature and decides that there's nothing wrong.

What can I make of this?
Well. I'm fine, that's what. I'm healthy and these abnormal issues are made up by my subconscious to show inner struggles?
Sure. We'll go with that.
As my stomach turns now, I want to close my eyes and lay to rest for a nice long while. No rest for the wicked, though.

My problems are mine. I will not tell anyone.
My mouth is sealed. No more harm for them.
I'll contain it here. Behind closed lips, shut eyes.

sunk

Jumbledmess.

I told you my thoughts weren't making sense.
I told you, too.
And they aren't. I can't set them straight so I ignore all of them.
It's safest that way, I think. For me. For you. For them.

Just like it's safer to lie; despite however much I lose in the process. Me? I'm last on the list of importance, everything/everyone is ahead of me.

So I lie for you, I lie for her, I lie for him. It's easier. The fake praising I receive doesn't hurt, they get to be proud of me and I get to continue with life, my way.

Sometimes, I don't think I have a problem at all. No, it's not bad that I constantly visualize cutting up my arm and bleeding out. No, it's not twisted how often I wish I could go cut. No, I don't plan out how I can steal the Red Devil away for a little while. No, I don't have a problem. Right?

I'm not in need of any serious help. I'll be a good little girl and take my medication, go to my appointments. I'll get her sidetracked so we'll talk about school for a little while until I have to go again. She wasn't happy when I shut down and didn't talk, so I'll just keep saying things that make her happy.

These words I'm writing aren't safe. They're not logical and I'm an idiot. I make no sense, there is no reason for me to continue and I. Am. An. Idiot. I fucked up once and it sent me here. Stuck and lost and hurting people.

Puzzle.

Everything's so topsy turvy and disjointed. Nothing fits right to mesh nicely together. Clashing corners collide rather than sit smooth and straight. With each word spoken, a piece of the puzzle is taken away; no longer an opportunity to fulfill its destiny to be whole.

Each piece chipped away falls and implodes on itself, reacting with every little molecule inside. However much want there is to save this small, minuscule particle, it is impossible. They slip between fingers and meet the ground, bonding with the previously disintegrated pieces.

Reality crashes away and molds into some unknown being. Nobody has seen Him before, now they can't escape his grasps. He holds tightly and his grip bruises. He causes pain upon their arms and their souls. Damaged permanently.

Humanity no longer conforms to the morals set by their ancestors. Twisted ideas create destruction in minds which previously skipped freely in fields of creativity and happiness.

What can be done to release the grip of this unknown being? How can we escape? How can we find our way back to the top? I don't know. I can try try try beg please hope that the puzzle can reform itself to the new circumstances but I can't do anything else. I can't. I try hope beg plead, but I can't. It's all up to this puzzle.

Realize.

Forget the darkness and leave the static. Embrace the light we used to shine and remember the warmth we emanate.

Push. Again. Harder now.

My insides are pushing out.
Pulsating and throbbing.
Aching and twisting.
They want out but I hold them down.

Everything's taking a turn.
Pushing against me.
Pushing against the insides pushing out.

Pressure builds up and nobody can hit the release.
Slowly it increases.
One atmosphere at a time.
A little bit now.
More later.
More to come tomorrow.
MORE NOW.

Why does your problem have to become mine?
Why does everything get thrown on me?
I can't take it all, I'm sorry. I'm not a sponge.
I don't absorb and then you can just wash me out.
I'm not reusable.


It's already taking a toll on me. I can feel it.
Weakness creeps up and pushes against anything in its way.

OnlysolonguntilIcrumble.

Water.

Slipping.
Falling.
Drowning.
Pushed off from the weight of expectations.
Attached to my leg are hopes and dreams, set up for failure; dragging me down.
Under the current, my arms and legs sway helplessly.
Attempts to breathe hindered by the pressure of the water.
Gulps fill my stomach, my lungs, my insides.
Scratching my throat and burning my eyes.
The weight of failure pulls me down, further, further into the darkness.
Light slips behind the cliff.
Darkness surrounds me.
Cold water piercing my skin.
Shivers felt at first slowly fade as water takes control.
Body temperature lowers.
Finger movement decreases.
Arm movement halts.
Eyesight fades.
Movement impossible.
Hypothermia takes over.
Crushed beneath expectations.
Drowned by hopes.
Underwater.
Stuck.
Frozen.

Purposeful

Is the purpose of these blogs to frighten others?
Make them worry and fret and lose sleep?
That's all I see happening from them.

Shiver.

Now, it's my turn to be cold for no reason.
Goosebumps riding along my skin, poking and piercing.
It's not a cold down to the core, but rather one on the surface.
Showing up occasionally that I'm not warm, that I can't be warm without her.

Sorry, this is me complaining.

I've come to the realization that I'm just here to be used.

People throw their worry at me, their concern. But humans, some at least, need to feel this way. So, maybe I create problems for them to worry about. Who knows.

People see past me, they don't need to care so they don't.

People give me fake hugs. Hugs with no meaning.

People share fake smiles with me. With eyes that are blocked shut by the invisible wall separating me from the rest of the world.

People leave me out. They don't even fucking bother inviting me, then proceed to talk about their plans right in front of my face. Thanks for ruining my fucking day, "friends".

People tell me to do things. I'll comply, they know that. I can't say no.

People expect certain things from me. I can't stray from my norm, or something's wrong. I can't take a longer time in my bathroom, or I'm cutting. I can't eat any less food, or I'm anorexic. I can't complain about feeling like I'm going to throw up, I have the flu. I can't go to bed early, I'm depressed.




So, wall me up. Shut me in. I'll be the perfect girl in the pretty little glass box for the world to use as they please.

Push.

I push you.
You push back.
Push.
Force.
Equals out.
Cancels out.
We end up making zero.
There's ground zero with us.
The ruins haven't been cleared;
no saviors for the fallen.

No.

Why can't I stop trying? Why does everything take so much effort?
I'm running low on energy, dear. It's diminishing and fading slowly and I can't fight for the part of you that wants to survive anymore.

I'm so tired. I know you are too, but how much longer can we pushandshove before it all caves in?

Just... wow.

So I know not many people read this, but that's not a big deal. This is, though.


Huge news, you know? An entire two fucking months. How did we get this far? These last two months have been some of the best and worst days of my life. Tiana. She's simply amazingly lovely beautiful and she's made my life worth living. She fills my heart with lovely little flutters that fly to my face and fill my eyes with joy and pull on my cheeks forming the smile she loves.

I just, can't believe she loves me. I mean. ME? How? And I believe it, but still. It's shocking and gives me joy. She's in my thoughts all day, and I fall asleep hoping to dream lovely dreams about her. [Wow, I need a thesaurus.. I keep saying lovely. There aren't any other words to describe her and everything about her, though.]

The longing in my heart wants her, all the time and this fucking distance doesn't allow it to happen. It's just simply not fair.

I love her.
She loves me.
We've spent two months being in love with each other.
From that night where I opened my heart to foreign feelings.
To today where we spend hours saying beautiful things to each other.
I love her.

Her eyes.

I've told her many times before, but they're like the shimmery surface of a crystal clear ocean, sprinkled with tropical green fish darting in and out of the seaweed. Absolutely breathtaking and gorgeous, they're captivating.

The day when I get to gaze into them, holding her close to me, will be the day I'll know I made it. We made it. Together. With each other. Together. We will have made it.

The day I glance into her eyes and see her soul through the bluesandgreens. When our hearts touch and I can love her. Love her for that day, for the days following, and the years following those days. It will be great, her and I together. I know it.


I love her. Now and forever.

Woops.

I've really fucked things up, haven't I. I don't need to ask that with a question mark; it's more of a statement we all know is true but I haven't admitted to it yet.

So, where do I go from here? Shove everything under and be happy? Because I don't know how to do that. There's this nagging behind my eyelids and a tugging in my throat, and things are pushingharderandharder to come out, but I shovethemaway because that's what I know how to do. When I let them slip through the cracks, ease the pain that I supposedly don't have, I get called selfishbitchyrude. Maybe I don't have a horrible life. Maybe things aren't all that bad for me. Maybe people love me. That's enough for me to be happy, isn't it?

Itshouldbe. But maybe it's not. And maybe it's all my fault because I'm oh so special that I can give up fighting for one stupid night and endeverything. I didn't though. LOOK AT ME. I'm still here. Look at my words, I'm typing right now. They're coming out of my fingertips which survive off the blood coming from my stillbeating heart, powered by my brain which is still thinkingturningconnecting. I'm still here. Okay?

Please just, enough. I know I'm horrible for wanting to die and not giving a shit about how many people I'd take with me. It all ends up in a horrible game of Dominoes.
Tap.
hit you.
you're gone too.
byebye to you too.

One
after
another
after
another.

Too many and I can't be responsible for that. How the hell am I supposed to survive under this stress? But, I can't give in, either.

I'm stuck, as she said. And I can't escape. Frozen. I need her warmth. But, how long until I get hypothermia. How long until the blood leaves my typingfingers, slows my stillbeatingheart, stops my thinkingturningconnecting brain? How long can I survive here?


Too many questions, nobody knows the answers.

Wait it out, deal with it for now, just wait and see. Things will get better from here; they have to.

BusRide

Orange and pink and blue and purple watercolors painted across the heavens. Blended together to form the rising sun's playground. No two seconds the same, the colors constantly distorting each other to accommodate ti the sun's evergowing strength.

HAH

April Fools, right?
All one big joke.
No need to besad no need to wanttodie. Just a joke.
Okay? It's all a joke.
All over now, I'll be FINEgreatexcellentlovelyperfecthappy.

Hahaahaha. Let's crylaugh about it, that one night when I wanted to die. It was a JOKE, an early April Fools Day joke. Let's cryslowtearsLAUGH.

Hehe. Yay! Life's perfect.

I told you Goodnight

But you REFUSED to stay away. Goodnight means GOODBYE. You aren't supposed to call back that night, you aren't allowed to RETURN to my head. You aren't accepted inside TWICE on the first night we meetagain.

Diagonal meets horizontal meets vertical. /|/|/ You left me such a mess and didn't bother staying to clean me up.
Put on a pair of black shorts. Blood doesn't show through that.
Wipe up the blood that drippeddownyourleg.
Okay. Goodbye.


Oh, but now I'm left alone? Thanks, friend, thanks a whole FUCKING lot.


But then she comes, and she makes me smile and she makes me flutter and soar and glide.
She came for me when I needed her, and shesavedme she made me happy. She made me love her and she sent me happy and fluttery and soaring into sweet, sweet dreams.

Done..fornow.

The crying's over now. You didn't force me to shed too many tears. Just enough to feel a littlepangofpain.

Sleep for now, Temptation. Goodnight.

Calling

Callingme. "Danielle. Danielle. Come on up. Come to where we can be together, just you and I. Us together, paired with the razor's edge. Let's create those prettylittlelines again. Watch the river run red again."

Flows and flows and drips and falls. Careful now, oh, on the floor now. More cleaninguptodo. Wipe now, don't let them slither too far down. The rivers know no breaking point. No dams now. Break loose. Fall.Slither.Drownme.

Like videos you play yourself in my head. GetoutGETOUT, I scream. LEAVE ME ALONE. But you welcome yourself inside, nothing can keep you away. I'll set up a table for two then, with one extra plate. Like the cup for Elijah, but not so holy; not so spiritual. Just you, me, and my razor on the pretty plate.

It's a date, right? We'll chat. Get to know each other again. Visitation and awkward times will pass, then comes the dinner. It's just quiet; no need for discussion. We fall back into our old habits, old routines I kept away for so long. [11days]. Will we embrace tonight? I don't know yet.. I don't know..

You'll hold me close, if we do. Keep me from slipping up. Just enough to keep me sane.

Call me, we'll set up a date, we'll talk, we'll embrace. You and me and my littlefriend.

What is it?

Personification poem for English class. I actually really like it.

She sends rays to peak over distant shores.
Time passes and they reflect off of the millions of particles scattered for miles on the ground.
Swelling waters absorb each breath of yellow
Creating blues like ice crystals and greens like sea glass.
Swirled together, whirlwinds of color.
As she greets the sky, she illuminates the world, kissing each being awake.
Her messengers light up all darkness and she forces the demons into hiding.
From orange, to pink, to blue, the heavens shift to accommodate to her glow.

Temptations

[Iremembered.]

You're back, hah. I haven't missed you. Hah. Welcome, my friend. It's been so long, yet, you're back so soon.

Haha. Why?
Why are you back here? Get out of my fucking head. I DON'T WANT YOU. Yes, yes I do. Welcome back, sincerely, welcome back. I've missed you. Your pullings, urges, pushes. It's all back now.

Do I want to fight you off? Pull harder, fight the urges, push against you? Not at all. Yeah, totally. I'll kick your ass, Temptation. Throw you on the ground and beat you. Don't come around here, this is MY territory. Embrace me, Temptation. Hold me close and tear me apart.

It's been so long, and I'm crumbling, remember? I can't fight you for very long. But, but.. I have to..

Forgetful

I had a blog to write, it was a good one too. All planned out in my head, ready to be typed out. But I fuckingforgot. Damnit.

Timeless Anger

It's reached that point, so close to breaking. From here on out, maybe I can't see past it, but wakeupschoolsoftballhomework. Do I get to breathe? Have I even had TIME to sleep? How long can I last on this?
Is there a point where we just crumble? If so, I'm surly so close to being there. Shatterundertheweight. THERE'S ONLY SO MUCH I CAN TAKE.

Good grades.
Study.
Play well.
Don't complain about being tired.
Study.
Not allowed to be tired.
No bad grades.
Study.
Study.
Study.
SAT.
ACT.
AP tests.
Study.
Study.
Study.
Don't breathe.
Study.
No sleep for you.
Study.

"I just thought of something to say, but then I forgot."
"Maybe it was that you were going to say you'll be responsible today and get all your work done?"
Followed by a rolling of the eyes and a silent car ride home.

Hush hush. Don't say anything to show you're not mad.
Don't break the silence. Stay mad. Forgive her, she's trying. Don't say anything to show you're not mad. Hush hush. Shut down your thoughts, you're not allowed to say that.
What happens if the pool overflows from the rain? Can't say that, no, you're mad.
Goodbye, thoughts. You're not allowed here. Stayquiet. Mouthclosed. Armscrossed. Mad.

:]

Oh my dear, I love that girl so much.

BackandForth

Hopeful.

Happiness.

Love.

Relationships.

Friendship.

Simplicity.

Belonging.

Drive.

Willingness.

Support.

All these things have diminished. Without them, I am left alone.

Alone.

Despair.

Deserted.

Depressed.

Hopeless.

Fearful.

Scared.

Stressed.

Are what I'm left with.
And I can't take it anymore.
Someone needs to help me.
Someone needs to pull me out of this rut.
I can't do it myself, I've been trying for oh so long.
It sounds like I'm pleading, begging if you will.
But I don't know what else to do.
I'm out of ideas, out of hope.

Bus Stop

I was walking down to the bus stop and it was snowing. In front of the street light it looked like glitter shaken out of a container instead of snow. Each flake was reflected perfectly by the light to
give it the most pure twinkle. Below my feet the snow on the ground crunched softly; it barely had time to ice over, though. Nevertheless, each step was like a symphony of snow flake crunches.

Cover Me

Under the streetlight, the snowflakes drift. Cascading down, altered by even the slightest breeze. Complete chaos, yet under the wind's complete control.It sticks to the trees, as if they've, so suddenly become those plastic, white Christmas trees.Everything is covered. Even the single tire tracks in the street. Anything and everything can be erased tonight. Footprints. Tire tracks. Mistakes. They're all covered by the snow. For a while, we don't have to care. For a while we can cover everything up and be pure.

LayingWatchingItFall

While I was waiting for someone to show up to my house, I was laying in the snow on a sled. Everything but my eye area was covered up. As each snow flake fell, it made a bit of a ping on impact, then danced and twinkled on my skin as it melted. While this was happening, I couldn't help but feel like it was a bit purifying. The snow, to me, is so clean and untouched and pure. Each flake that fell on me was something like a little miracle. Just the snow. So simple but so complex in it's structure. So under appreciated.

Poem

That I had to write for English class. It turned out okay, so I'm posting it here.

I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Well, I sure wish I knew.
All this wishful thinking,
taking me down a path
hopefully it leads somewhere.
I don’t want to end up nowhere,
lost with no place to go.
Things would need to change, like
every year, on birthdays -
where merry singing and happy times
mark this change.
But does this change, solely in age, in fact
change who I am?
Maybe who really I am is occluded.
Maybe with some digging,
some pushing around,
some searching,
I can find my Real Self.


What is Love?
Love is hiding behind the next door.
Love is buried beneath piles of lust.
Love is obscured by hazy eyes.
Love is as soft, as comforting as cotton on a wound.
Love is as a song, building up slowly
and then a climax full of twists and turns,
complexity at its finest.
And then again, Love can be found
simply by looking inside
at my Real Self.
My Love is essential as a summer’s wind.
It defines me.
Defines how I feel
Defines my Real Self.

We'reFINE, right?

TwistTIEburnDIE.
BleedBEGholdFORGET.
SLIPfallENDless.
YESnoyesNO.
FINEnoYESyes.
FINEBLEEDDIEBEG.
HOLDFORGETFADE.

RiverRanRed

Do you see the pain I cry?
Not with tears. No.
Those are long gone.
With the blood, the hopelessness, the fakesmilesandcutelaughs.
Drip.
Drip.
Watchitslitherdown.
Cry for me.
Cry.
Bleed.
Watchitcreateriversonme.
The Red Sea. Right here. Right on me.
Part it.
What do you see?

Her, oh her..

My prettygirl. Prettyprincess. The one who shines and creates rainbows from her crystals. She may be a bit cracked, but if she thinks I mind, oh no. I don't. Her cracks create colorful designs to see.


That girl, do you know her? The one that makes me smile, forces my heart to sing, sends radiations of flutters throughout my body. I know her.
She's.. stunning. She stuns me. Makes me wonder how did I deserve this? How could I, that girl who sat alone, be given such an amazing opportunity to feel love and such an amazing person to love, and to love me?
Now, those of you who have your doubts, don't feel alone. We have them too. About when we're going to see each other, how we're going to make everything work. Do not doubt our love. No. That would be a mistake.
You see here? This little paragraph, this small post proves my love for her so there are no errors in our calculations.
That night + confessions = 45 days miraculously spent with a pregnant love growing steadily.
Her + me = love.

See here. No errors can be found; no uncertainty detectable.

I love her.
She loves me.
It's all too real, too scary, too incredible.
But. It. Is. Real.
Very real.
And I must remind myself every day that she cares and she loves and she is.

I love her, truly and with my whole heart.
Doubt it and you will be proven wrong.
Believe and hope there is some love for you out there.

Upcoming

The next few posts will consist of things I've written in the past but haven't done anything with.

Hello my new home

Usually, I'm not one to write things down, document, keep track of what's going on. But I think maybe, this could help me. Write out things to straighten them out in my head.
That's what this is for. I'm hidden here, nobody can see me unless they look. Look hard enough, maybe you'll come across something worth seeing.