Or that's what it feels like when I'm with my friends. People hooking up, dating, and all that. I feel so left behind -__-
So I found out from Autumn today that a girl (from the "Why am I still thinking about her?" entry) is dating the guy that she had told me she liked. Figures. I already made that assumption because her last status update on Myspace about a month ago said she felt adored and his Facebook said he's in a relationship. Mm. Well, that's cool. It's just weird because I could never imagine him in a relationship haha :P
I just notice something about all the "serious" crushes I had on girls. Those girls, after I "move on," get into relationships relatively soon after. Autumn called me a good luck charm. Chyeah, for other people -__- Not for me. I've yet to meet anyone with whom I have a mutual interest.
I'm such a loser. I feel like I'm never gonna find that someone for me :( My friends are always kissing and hugging their boos, and I feel so alone.
I really suck, for feeling like this. I do this to myself. Bah!
I need happy thoughts. I need a best friend. Hah, never gonna happen. I can't open up. I want someone to open me up. I can't do it alone.
When I think of the perfect girlfriend, I see someone who motivates and encourages me to do better. But she doesn't force me to do too much of anything I don't want to do. She just pushes me enough to get where I should get to. She wants to hang out with me every day, but she wouldn't keep me from doing my work. She makes sure I get work done before we hang out. She wants me to do well in school for myself. She encourages me to try hard in school and in life. She knows exactly when to kiss and hug me. She likes to cuddle and watch movies with me. She doesn't get mad when I can't be with her all the time. She sees my flaws, but she loves me anyway. She just makes me happy whenever she's around. We could say not a word, and I feel like we've had one of the most meaningful conversations ever. Her presence would just overwhelm me with warmth and fuzziness haha.
I just want someone to love, to hold, to fill in the space between my arms. Make me feel at home.
Home is where the heart is,
But I don't know where mine is.
I'm actually feeling the songs "Suffocate" by J. Holiday. I love that song. I want to feel that way about a girl. And "Differences" by Ginuwine and a couple more haha. Love songs. I wish I could relate to love songs.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
How do you know one of your friends isn't suicidal?
I've been reading forums and stuff. There are a lot of people who make fun of those who commit or attempt suicide. They laugh and call them names. It pisses me off.
People need help.
If you're one of those who laugh, why? What's so funny about people who can't cope with their pain? What if one of your closest friends were having thoughts about suicide? Would you still be laughing? You might say none of your friends think those kinds of thoughts, but how would you know? You're too busy making fun of people to notice anything's wrong. And if your friend really does have those thoughts, why would he turn to you if he thinks you're gonna laugh at him too?
Depression can happen to anyone. Just because it doesn't affect you doesn't mean that everyone else it affects is weak or is a loser or whatever. They've got problems, and they need help. Your friends need your help. (Btw, I see everyone as a potential friend. When you turn someone away because you think they're weak, then you are weak because you don't have the strength to help them.)
There are also people who say that the suicidal are self-centered or attention-whores. Some, maybe. Not all. If they wanted attention, the suicidal wouldn't succeed in killing themselves. Attention after death isn't really worth a damn to the dead. They're dead. For some people, they just want to get away from their pain. That's understandable. When we're in pain, we try to get away from the pain. You touch something that burns, you jerk your hand away immediately. That's a given. When life feels painful, death is the easiest "reaction."
I guess, we could also say that some suicides are to get attention, who really knows? Yeah, we have psychologists who might say that; but these are just assumptions or theories (A lot of what we say about things is assumption or theory, not undeniable truth). Attention, yeah, people might want others to finally notice their pain but only after they die. I don't know, seems to me that it depends on how and where they choose to die. Like, if they commit suicide in a public area, like a school, they seem to really want to say, "I couldn't take it anymore. See this? I'm dead. It's your/someone else's fault."
Of course, I'm just stating what I think. I don't know for sure. I've never known anyone who committed suicide. At least I don't think I have.
And it seems people tend to choose their final resting place to be where they experienced most of their pain. It seems rare that they choose to die where they felt at peace when they were alive. Of course, I'm only basing this off of the stories that have been publicized in the newspapers and such.
"Self-centered." Yeah. I guess we could call them that. They're only thinking about their pain. They're not thinking about other people's pain. But apparently, other people aren't thinking about the pain of the suicidal either. Emotional or psychological pain could be just as bad as the physical pain that people in third world countries endure. How would you know? Do you know the pain that either groups of people experience? The emotional, psychological, or physical? How can you compare one person's pain to another's?
People have different pain tolerances. Some people would prefer emotional pain to physical. Others, vice versa. You cannot say one person's suffering is worse than another's. You can't even say that one person's suffering is non-existent. Who are you to decide who really is feeling pain or not? It's not your pain. No one can decide your pain, so you shouldn't be saying crap about others'.
Sorry, I can't get everything out of my head onto the screen... ahh...
If we could prevent every possible suicide, would this be a happier world? Who knows? Would the pain all go away?
If we don't prevent suicides, would this be a happier world? Who knows? Happy people would stay alive, yeah? Wouldn't that be happier?
We all die sooner or later. What's so wrong about dying sooner rather than later? "You have your whole life ahead of you." What does that mean? Do you mean it when you say it?
Ahh, I give up. I don't know where I'm going with this. I started off being ticked about the mockers and the idiots. I just wished they would listen before they start insulting people they don't know. Mock your friends because your friends understand you. Don't mock strangers, they might kill you.
People need help.
If you're one of those who laugh, why? What's so funny about people who can't cope with their pain? What if one of your closest friends were having thoughts about suicide? Would you still be laughing? You might say none of your friends think those kinds of thoughts, but how would you know? You're too busy making fun of people to notice anything's wrong. And if your friend really does have those thoughts, why would he turn to you if he thinks you're gonna laugh at him too?
Depression can happen to anyone. Just because it doesn't affect you doesn't mean that everyone else it affects is weak or is a loser or whatever. They've got problems, and they need help. Your friends need your help. (Btw, I see everyone as a potential friend. When you turn someone away because you think they're weak, then you are weak because you don't have the strength to help them.)
There are also people who say that the suicidal are self-centered or attention-whores. Some, maybe. Not all. If they wanted attention, the suicidal wouldn't succeed in killing themselves. Attention after death isn't really worth a damn to the dead. They're dead. For some people, they just want to get away from their pain. That's understandable. When we're in pain, we try to get away from the pain. You touch something that burns, you jerk your hand away immediately. That's a given. When life feels painful, death is the easiest "reaction."
I guess, we could also say that some suicides are to get attention, who really knows? Yeah, we have psychologists who might say that; but these are just assumptions or theories (A lot of what we say about things is assumption or theory, not undeniable truth). Attention, yeah, people might want others to finally notice their pain but only after they die. I don't know, seems to me that it depends on how and where they choose to die. Like, if they commit suicide in a public area, like a school, they seem to really want to say, "I couldn't take it anymore. See this? I'm dead. It's your/someone else's fault."
Of course, I'm just stating what I think. I don't know for sure. I've never known anyone who committed suicide. At least I don't think I have.
And it seems people tend to choose their final resting place to be where they experienced most of their pain. It seems rare that they choose to die where they felt at peace when they were alive. Of course, I'm only basing this off of the stories that have been publicized in the newspapers and such.
"Self-centered." Yeah. I guess we could call them that. They're only thinking about their pain. They're not thinking about other people's pain. But apparently, other people aren't thinking about the pain of the suicidal either. Emotional or psychological pain could be just as bad as the physical pain that people in third world countries endure. How would you know? Do you know the pain that either groups of people experience? The emotional, psychological, or physical? How can you compare one person's pain to another's?
People have different pain tolerances. Some people would prefer emotional pain to physical. Others, vice versa. You cannot say one person's suffering is worse than another's. You can't even say that one person's suffering is non-existent. Who are you to decide who really is feeling pain or not? It's not your pain. No one can decide your pain, so you shouldn't be saying crap about others'.
Sorry, I can't get everything out of my head onto the screen... ahh...
If we could prevent every possible suicide, would this be a happier world? Who knows? Would the pain all go away?
If we don't prevent suicides, would this be a happier world? Who knows? Happy people would stay alive, yeah? Wouldn't that be happier?
We all die sooner or later. What's so wrong about dying sooner rather than later? "You have your whole life ahead of you." What does that mean? Do you mean it when you say it?
Ahh, I give up. I don't know where I'm going with this. I started off being ticked about the mockers and the idiots. I just wished they would listen before they start insulting people they don't know. Mock your friends because your friends understand you. Don't mock strangers, they might kill you.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Damn..
I hate feeling the way I do. I need to stop feeling this way so much.
Canceled plans two days in a row. I planned to hang out at Monterey's house yesterday, but she had too much homework and a dentist appointment. So we were gonna hang out today, but she's not home. Yesterday, it was ok because I rode my bike instead. But today, I don't know what to do. And my thoughts are getting to me..
And I think I might fail my Poli Sci class because I forgot to take the midterm last Thursday. I don't have an excuse. Thursday, my mom yelled at me, and I shut out the world. I don't have an excuse. Damn. I don't want to tell my professor the reason that I didn't take my midterm was because I was angry and distracted. She doesn't need to know that. I wish I had forgotten for a better reason. I don't have a reason to make up the midterm. Even if I told her the reason, I don't have proof. What physical evidence is there of anger and yelling?
I'm going to fail. I don't want to fail. I can't fail. My mom's going to kill me. I can't deal with this. I need to stop thinking. I'm feeling worse and worse with every thought. I wish Spring Break could last another two weeks. I wouldn't have to deal with school just yet. Last forever; I wouldn't have to deal with it at all.
Canceled plans two days in a row. I planned to hang out at Monterey's house yesterday, but she had too much homework and a dentist appointment. So we were gonna hang out today, but she's not home. Yesterday, it was ok because I rode my bike instead. But today, I don't know what to do. And my thoughts are getting to me..
And I think I might fail my Poli Sci class because I forgot to take the midterm last Thursday. I don't have an excuse. Thursday, my mom yelled at me, and I shut out the world. I don't have an excuse. Damn. I don't want to tell my professor the reason that I didn't take my midterm was because I was angry and distracted. She doesn't need to know that. I wish I had forgotten for a better reason. I don't have a reason to make up the midterm. Even if I told her the reason, I don't have proof. What physical evidence is there of anger and yelling?
I'm going to fail. I don't want to fail. I can't fail. My mom's going to kill me. I can't deal with this. I need to stop thinking. I'm feeling worse and worse with every thought. I wish Spring Break could last another two weeks. I wouldn't have to deal with school just yet. Last forever; I wouldn't have to deal with it at all.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
I used to be a poet...
I used to be creative. I lost my creativity. It's disheartening. I lose a lot of things. I wish I hadn't lost my poetic and creative side. I used to write a lot. Always a rhyme in my head. No one ever saw it. Except my schoolteachers. But I kinda limited myself when writing for school. The only evidence I have of my former creativity are a few poems I wrote for Mrs Harter's English class in 7th grade. And a few from Mrs Thomas' class in 9th grade. None of my other English teachers ever focused on creative writing as much those two did. It makes me sad. Everything's so analytical now. It breaks my heart.
I don't even analyze well. I take too long to see things sometimes. Why can't I just see what I see? Why do I always have to look for more? I'll look for more when I feel like it. I always have to stretch to see what others see. I feel so short -_-haha...
Anyway, I had thought that I had posted my old poems on LJ, but I didn't. So I'll put them all here. Mind you, these are the works of a 7th grader. Mistakes (in spelling and word choice) are rampant, and meanings are clear and fuzzy. I feel so lame reading through them now. They're not that goodXP But eh -shrug- And some of the poems are modeled after those of famous poets because that was the goal of the exercise or whatever. And for some reasons I don't remember, all my 7th-grade poems are completely capitalized.
RAIN IS
RAIN
IS
DROP LET
S SW EET
POS IT
IVE PURPLES
SOO THI
NG BLU
EBE RRI
ES.
ALL AR OUND,
LI
FE THR IVES TO
SU R
VIVE TR
OUB LES
THE GRASSES ARE
THE
GRAS SES ARE
F AMI LIES GOR
GEO US LIVI NG YELL
OWS DESI
RO US LI
MES.
ABO VE, INSE
CTS SPR E ADIN
G PO
LL
EN
MY BODY IS FULL OF PAIN.
I FEEL LIKE WEEPING
'CAUSE MOM SAYS BIG BRO IS DISDAIN
MY LIFE'S A MISERY.
IT FEELS LIKE TREACHERY.
I WANT TO EXPRESS
WHAT I FEEL IS BEST.
MY HEART CAN TAKE NO MORE.
IT'S MAKING ME SO SORE.
I BELIEVE I WANT TO BLESS,
BUT I GUESS I AM TO STRESS.
FOR MY FAMILY'S SAKE, I PRAY
THAT WE WILL SURVIVE ANOTHER DAY.
CAN I TRUST NOBODY?
WHY IS MY LIFE SO UNFAIR?
I AM LOOKED UPON WITH A GLARE.
I FEEL I NEED TO DISAPPEAR
BEFORE I CAN SHED A TEAR.
I WANT MY FAMILY TO LOVE,
TO HUG EACH OTHER,
TO PUT EACH OTHER ABOVE.
MY MOM PUTS ME AND MY BRO IN FRIGHT
SO WHY DO WE SLEEP AT HOME AT NIGHT?
I NEED TO RUN AWAY FROM HOME,
BUT MY MOM WILL BE ALL ALONE.
TONY, MY BIG BRO,
WILL EASILY LET GO.
HE HAS BEEN A FOOL
SO MY MOM DOES NOT TRUST HIM
HE IS NO LONGER A HANDY TOOL,
BUT WHY IS TONY SO GRIM?
I WISH I COULD GIVE A CHEER,
BUT EVERYTHIN'S SO UNCLEAR.
EVERY LOVE BONE
HAS GONE TO THE UNKNOWN.
HOW SICK AM I?
HOW DO PEOPLE GO THROUGH WHAT I DO?
PEOPLE CHOOSE WHAT THEY WANT TO,
BUT WHY DO I CHOOSE TO LIE?
LOVE SHOULD BE BETTER LOST
THAN IT IS TO COST.
I WANT MY FAMILY TO SURVIVE
SO GIVE MY FAMILY ANOTHER TRY.
MOM'S CHANGE OF HEART
HAS TAKEN HER PART.
WILL SHE EVER LOVE US AGAIN?
THERE IS NO TRUTH IN WHAT I HEAR.
THEN WHY DO I REGARD IN FEAR?
IS IT WHAT'S INSIDE
THAT'S HOLDING MY PRIDE?
I WANT MOM TO HOLD ME
AND TELL EVERYTHING'S ALL RIGHT.
I SEE HER SIGHT,
BUT I CAN'T TELL MYSELF SHE'S THERE.
RUNNING TO HER IN GLEE,
IS WHAT I WANT TO SEE.
LIFE'S NOT FAIR, IS IT?
I DON'T WANT THIS LIFE TO DIE,
SO PLEASE GIVE IT ANOTHER TRY.
I NEED SOMEONE ELSE'S TO VISIT.
I WANT SOMEONE WHO WOULD HOLD ME IN HER ARMS.
PLEASE GRANT ME THIS WANT
AND IN RETURN,
I'LL LEARN.
I KNOW I AM GAUNT.
AT LEAST I KNOW WHAT I WANT.
WHY
(MAKING UP A SONG, PREFERABLY A RAP)
WHY IS IT SO HARD TO LIVE?
WITH ALL WE HAVE TO GIVE,
IS THIS ALL WE GET BACK?
THE SUN CAN ONLY SHINE.
THE SUN CAN ATTACK.
THERE IS NO USE TO WHINE,
SO WHY CAN'T WE BE FINE?
TREASON IS ON THE OPPONENT'S SIDE
AND IT'S ON OURS TOO.
THERE'S NOTHING TO HIDE,
SO WHY DON'T I HAVE PRIDE?
I HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE,
BUT MAYBE, JUST MAYBE
MY SUPERIOR MODESTY.
ABE LINCOLN WASN'T AFRAID.
HE CAME TO OUR NATION'S AID,
SO HE MUST BE A GOOD MAN.
LINCOLN PROBABLY ALWAYS HAD CONFIDENCE.
PLUS, A PLAN,
TO FIGHT BACK AGAINST SO-CALLED POLITICS.
WHY CAN'T ABRAHAM BE HERE TO HELP US?
IS EVERYTHING AGAINST US?
OUR NATION'S DYIN',
INSTEAD OF FLYIN'.
THIS IS SERIOUS!
WHY CAN'T I BE DELIRIOUS
TO MAKE THE PAIN GO AWAY,
OR TO DIE ANOTHER DAY?
I'M INTOXICATED!
I CAN'T BREATHE
I CAN'T LEAVE!
I'M BEING DICTATED!
THE SONG OF FEAR
CREEPING IN THE DARK,
EVIL HAS LEFT ME WITH A MARK.
GOING DOWN THE STAIRS,
I WISH I HAD PROTECTION.
I'M SEEIN' GLARES.
SOMEBODY PLEASE SHOW ME AFFECTION!
THE SONG OF FEAR,
IT'S COMING NEAR,
AND IT'S ALL I CAN HEAR!
SOMEBODY, PLEASE HOLD ME!
THE SOULS ARE ANGRY!
NO MATTER HOW BIG OR SMALL,
FEAR LIVES IN US ALL.
THERE'S NO HIDING.
FEAR IS NEVER GONE.
IT'S ALWAYS HERE, BEFORE AND AFTER DAWN.
THE SONG OF FEAR IS EVERYWHERE.
IT'S OVER HERE.
IT'S OVER THERE!
LONG LIVES THE SONG OF FEAR.
THE SONG OF HOME
HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS,
BUT I DON'T KNOW WHERE MINE IS.
THE SONG OF HOME IS CLEAR,
BUT IT CAN ALSO BE BLURRY.
LOVE IS ALWAYS NEAR
WHEN THE SONG IS HERE.
HOME CAN BE WHERE WE SCURRY.
LOVE CAN ALWAYS BE FOUND AT HOME.
IT'S A PLACE WE CAN ALWAYS ROAM.
WHEN LOVE IS GONE,
SO IS HOME.
THE SONG OF HOME
LIVES ON THE LOVE THAT BLOOMS,
FOR YOU AND ME,
(MY ONLY FAMILY).
HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS,
BUT I DON'T KNOW WHERE MINE IS.
THE SONG OF HOPE
THE SONG OF HOPE
CAN BE HEARD BY ANYONE,
EVEN THE POPE.
HOPE COMES FROM DREAMS.
HOPE IS NOT ALWAYS WHAT IT SEEMS.
LOVE CAN CREATE THE SONG OF HOPE.
HOPE CAN BE LIKE A LONG ROPE.
IT MAY LOOK ENDLESS,
IT CAN BE LIMITED.
HOPE COULD BE ON A LIST,
BUT FOR ALL WE KNOW,
WE MAY NOT KNOW.
WE MAY NEVER FIND THE END,
BUT AFTER OUR END,
WE WILL FIND OUT.
JUST DON'T BE STOUT.
("Stout" is definitely not the right word, but I remember i had trouble trying to end the poem haha. Maybe "pout" would have been better :P)
Time for 9th-grade poems:
My Double Life?
In a sense I always have comfort here
My family is always near
The atmosphere usually brings cheer
I could make my mother proud
That I am her flesh and blood
Everyday I see my mother
I hear her
The tap, tap, tap, tap of her slippers
Precedes her as if it were an alarm
Though I love her so
Sometimes she kills my happy glow
The enormous pressure that builds inside me
From her many expectations
Is the force that pushes me around
In a sense I always find comfort here
The joys of friendships are haven from my family
I am an opposite of myself in these times
Instead of a diligent teenager
I am a laidback fun-loving teenager
Thoughts of being able to do anything with my "posse"
Grants me freedom from the monotonous work of home
It feels better than being a daughter, all alone
The whoosh that I hear
When I race around with my buddies
Is almost like music to my ears
The voices that stay inside my head
Are like the cushions on my bed
Because I am contented
When I hear those friendly voices
My Inside
The feelings I hold inside
I cannot truly understand.
Sometimes, their meanings feel so empty
And I feel empty too.
I feel hurt, but there's no pain
I feel happy, but there's no joy
I feel depressed, but there is no despair.
The feelings I hold inside
Can never be understood.
Anyone who tries
Will surely end up in failure.
It seems to me that my happiness
Has reached it's demise.
But when it returns,
Only true meanings of happiness
Can keep my spirits alive.
The feelings I hold inside
Are just there for entertainmetn and misery.
The people who try to help
Just end up hurting me.
They never know what to say to me anymore.
I fear no one will ever understand me anymore.
The feelings I hold inside
Are the words, which I will never speak.
For anyone who hears
Will never comprehend.
Sometimes I do not believe
That I understand them as well.
My feelings I hold inside
I cannot truly understand.
The bliss of ignorance
Is within my hand.
To ignore the truth is to accept the lies.
To care or not to care,
Do I really know?
The choices that I make
Seem to become my regrets.
And every chance I take
Is any man's best bet.
Rather Do Poem
Oh, let me lie, rather than face the haters and their injustice,
In a deep pit filled with the most vile creatures alive,
Or eat every piece of bitter food I find, or let me stand
In the hot, fiery flames of a crematory; crush every bone in my body slowly,
Or drop me into bottomless waters,
Having me sink into the depths forever,
With no one to save me from my gradual, watery death;
Or chop off my tongue and feed it to me raw,
Or better yet, chop off all my connections to socialization,
Leaving me cold and alone to feel nothing;
Or pierce my skin with wide needles a billion times;
With that, let me perform Suspension for hours,
And torture me with knives,
Causing me to spasm with pain,
Forcing the hooks in even deeper--
Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble--
And I will do it without fear or doubt,
To live a hate-free life.
I probably made some mistakes in transcribing, but oh well. My poems aren't that good anyway. I know, they're kinda depression XP I was a sad kid. A lot of family issues.
So anyway, I want to pick up with poetry again, but geez I really can't think of anything to write. Just once in a while, something interesting pops into my head.
Like today, I came up with these:
Poetry used to be my thing,
But that was a really long time ago.
Now all I can do is sing
Along with the words of another's flow.
I live for you.
If I could, I would live for me.
I suffer for you.
If I could, I wouldn't suffer for anyone.
I think for you.
If I could, I would think for me.
I'm alive for you.
I'm not living for me.
Yeah... I'm so not happy haha.
Mm, I was thinking that if I'm home alone tomorrow, I might make that YouTube video haha XP I'll ramble. I can do that pretty well. Or I can lip-sync haha. I just want to make a video. I don't talk to people enough, so I can talk to strangers on YouTube. Or not. I don't know. We'll see. If I don't, I'll get my friends together, and we'll make a video haha. As if :P We need to get together soon.
I think I should get back to my homework. Yeaah.
Edit: Grr.. Blogger doesn't like major html use. My poems all looked weird. So I'm gonna leave them in a plain form (left justified), not their original structures :( Not as aesthetically pleasing XP
I don't even analyze well. I take too long to see things sometimes. Why can't I just see what I see? Why do I always have to look for more? I'll look for more when I feel like it. I always have to stretch to see what others see. I feel so short -_-haha...
Anyway, I had thought that I had posted my old poems on LJ, but I didn't. So I'll put them all here. Mind you, these are the works of a 7th grader. Mistakes (in spelling and word choice) are rampant, and meanings are clear and fuzzy. I feel so lame reading through them now. They're not that goodXP But eh -shrug- And some of the poems are modeled after those of famous poets because that was the goal of the exercise or whatever. And for some reasons I don't remember, all my 7th-grade poems are completely capitalized.
RAIN IS
RAIN
IS
DROP LET
S SW EET
POS IT
IVE PURPLES
SOO THI
NG BLU
EBE RRI
ES.
ALL AR OUND,
LI
FE THR IVES TO
SU R
VIVE TR
OUB LES
THE GRASSES ARE
THE
GRAS SES ARE
F AMI LIES GOR
GEO US LIVI NG YELL
OWS DESI
RO US LI
MES.
ABO VE, INSE
CTS SPR E ADIN
G PO
LL
EN
MY BODY IS FULL OF PAIN.
I FEEL LIKE WEEPING
'CAUSE MOM SAYS BIG BRO IS DISDAIN
MY LIFE'S A MISERY.
IT FEELS LIKE TREACHERY.
I WANT TO EXPRESS
WHAT I FEEL IS BEST.
MY HEART CAN TAKE NO MORE.
IT'S MAKING ME SO SORE.
I BELIEVE I WANT TO BLESS,
BUT I GUESS I AM TO STRESS.
FOR MY FAMILY'S SAKE, I PRAY
THAT WE WILL SURVIVE ANOTHER DAY.
CAN I TRUST NOBODY?
WHY IS MY LIFE SO UNFAIR?
I AM LOOKED UPON WITH A GLARE.
I FEEL I NEED TO DISAPPEAR
BEFORE I CAN SHED A TEAR.
I WANT MY FAMILY TO LOVE,
TO HUG EACH OTHER,
TO PUT EACH OTHER ABOVE.
MY MOM PUTS ME AND MY BRO IN FRIGHT
SO WHY DO WE SLEEP AT HOME AT NIGHT?
I NEED TO RUN AWAY FROM HOME,
BUT MY MOM WILL BE ALL ALONE.
TONY, MY BIG BRO,
WILL EASILY LET GO.
HE HAS BEEN A FOOL
SO MY MOM DOES NOT TRUST HIM
HE IS NO LONGER A HANDY TOOL,
BUT WHY IS TONY SO GRIM?
I WISH I COULD GIVE A CHEER,
BUT EVERYTHIN'S SO UNCLEAR.
EVERY LOVE BONE
HAS GONE TO THE UNKNOWN.
HOW SICK AM I?
HOW DO PEOPLE GO THROUGH WHAT I DO?
PEOPLE CHOOSE WHAT THEY WANT TO,
BUT WHY DO I CHOOSE TO LIE?
LOVE SHOULD BE BETTER LOST
THAN IT IS TO COST.
I WANT MY FAMILY TO SURVIVE
SO GIVE MY FAMILY ANOTHER TRY.
MOM'S CHANGE OF HEART
HAS TAKEN HER PART.
WILL SHE EVER LOVE US AGAIN?
THERE IS NO TRUTH IN WHAT I HEAR.
THEN WHY DO I REGARD IN FEAR?
IS IT WHAT'S INSIDE
THAT'S HOLDING MY PRIDE?
I WANT MOM TO HOLD ME
AND TELL EVERYTHING'S ALL RIGHT.
I SEE HER SIGHT,
BUT I CAN'T TELL MYSELF SHE'S THERE.
RUNNING TO HER IN GLEE,
IS WHAT I WANT TO SEE.
LIFE'S NOT FAIR, IS IT?
I DON'T WANT THIS LIFE TO DIE,
SO PLEASE GIVE IT ANOTHER TRY.
I NEED SOMEONE ELSE'S TO VISIT.
I WANT SOMEONE WHO WOULD HOLD ME IN HER ARMS.
PLEASE GRANT ME THIS WANT
AND IN RETURN,
I'LL LEARN.
I KNOW I AM GAUNT.
AT LEAST I KNOW WHAT I WANT.
WHY
(MAKING UP A SONG, PREFERABLY A RAP)
WHY IS IT SO HARD TO LIVE?
WITH ALL WE HAVE TO GIVE,
IS THIS ALL WE GET BACK?
THE SUN CAN ONLY SHINE.
THE SUN CAN ATTACK.
THERE IS NO USE TO WHINE,
SO WHY CAN'T WE BE FINE?
TREASON IS ON THE OPPONENT'S SIDE
AND IT'S ON OURS TOO.
THERE'S NOTHING TO HIDE,
SO WHY DON'T I HAVE PRIDE?
I HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE,
BUT MAYBE, JUST MAYBE
MY SUPERIOR MODESTY.
ABE LINCOLN WASN'T AFRAID.
HE CAME TO OUR NATION'S AID,
SO HE MUST BE A GOOD MAN.
LINCOLN PROBABLY ALWAYS HAD CONFIDENCE.
PLUS, A PLAN,
TO FIGHT BACK AGAINST SO-CALLED POLITICS.
WHY CAN'T ABRAHAM BE HERE TO HELP US?
IS EVERYTHING AGAINST US?
OUR NATION'S DYIN',
INSTEAD OF FLYIN'.
THIS IS SERIOUS!
WHY CAN'T I BE DELIRIOUS
TO MAKE THE PAIN GO AWAY,
OR TO DIE ANOTHER DAY?
I'M INTOXICATED!
I CAN'T BREATHE
I CAN'T LEAVE!
I'M BEING DICTATED!
THE SONG OF FEAR
CREEPING IN THE DARK,
EVIL HAS LEFT ME WITH A MARK.
GOING DOWN THE STAIRS,
I WISH I HAD PROTECTION.
I'M SEEIN' GLARES.
SOMEBODY PLEASE SHOW ME AFFECTION!
THE SONG OF FEAR,
IT'S COMING NEAR,
AND IT'S ALL I CAN HEAR!
SOMEBODY, PLEASE HOLD ME!
THE SOULS ARE ANGRY!
NO MATTER HOW BIG OR SMALL,
FEAR LIVES IN US ALL.
THERE'S NO HIDING.
FEAR IS NEVER GONE.
IT'S ALWAYS HERE, BEFORE AND AFTER DAWN.
THE SONG OF FEAR IS EVERYWHERE.
IT'S OVER HERE.
IT'S OVER THERE!
LONG LIVES THE SONG OF FEAR.
THE SONG OF HOME
HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS,
BUT I DON'T KNOW WHERE MINE IS.
THE SONG OF HOME IS CLEAR,
BUT IT CAN ALSO BE BLURRY.
LOVE IS ALWAYS NEAR
WHEN THE SONG IS HERE.
HOME CAN BE WHERE WE SCURRY.
LOVE CAN ALWAYS BE FOUND AT HOME.
IT'S A PLACE WE CAN ALWAYS ROAM.
WHEN LOVE IS GONE,
SO IS HOME.
THE SONG OF HOME
LIVES ON THE LOVE THAT BLOOMS,
FOR YOU AND ME,
(MY ONLY FAMILY).
HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS,
BUT I DON'T KNOW WHERE MINE IS.
THE SONG OF HOPE
THE SONG OF HOPE
CAN BE HEARD BY ANYONE,
EVEN THE POPE.
HOPE COMES FROM DREAMS.
HOPE IS NOT ALWAYS WHAT IT SEEMS.
LOVE CAN CREATE THE SONG OF HOPE.
HOPE CAN BE LIKE A LONG ROPE.
IT MAY LOOK ENDLESS,
IT CAN BE LIMITED.
HOPE COULD BE ON A LIST,
BUT FOR ALL WE KNOW,
WE MAY NOT KNOW.
WE MAY NEVER FIND THE END,
BUT AFTER OUR END,
WE WILL FIND OUT.
JUST DON'T BE STOUT.
("Stout" is definitely not the right word, but I remember i had trouble trying to end the poem haha. Maybe "pout" would have been better :P)
Time for 9th-grade poems:
My Double Life?
In a sense I always have comfort here
My family is always near
The atmosphere usually brings cheer
I could make my mother proud
That I am her flesh and blood
Everyday I see my mother
I hear her
The tap, tap, tap, tap of her slippers
Precedes her as if it were an alarm
Though I love her so
Sometimes she kills my happy glow
The enormous pressure that builds inside me
From her many expectations
Is the force that pushes me around
In a sense I always find comfort here
The joys of friendships are haven from my family
I am an opposite of myself in these times
Instead of a diligent teenager
I am a laidback fun-loving teenager
Thoughts of being able to do anything with my "posse"
Grants me freedom from the monotonous work of home
It feels better than being a daughter, all alone
The whoosh that I hear
When I race around with my buddies
Is almost like music to my ears
The voices that stay inside my head
Are like the cushions on my bed
Because I am contented
When I hear those friendly voices
My Inside
The feelings I hold inside
I cannot truly understand.
Sometimes, their meanings feel so empty
And I feel empty too.
I feel hurt, but there's no pain
I feel happy, but there's no joy
I feel depressed, but there is no despair.
The feelings I hold inside
Can never be understood.
Anyone who tries
Will surely end up in failure.
It seems to me that my happiness
Has reached it's demise.
But when it returns,
Only true meanings of happiness
Can keep my spirits alive.
The feelings I hold inside
Are just there for entertainmetn and misery.
The people who try to help
Just end up hurting me.
They never know what to say to me anymore.
I fear no one will ever understand me anymore.
The feelings I hold inside
Are the words, which I will never speak.
For anyone who hears
Will never comprehend.
Sometimes I do not believe
That I understand them as well.
My feelings I hold inside
I cannot truly understand.
The bliss of ignorance
Is within my hand.
To ignore the truth is to accept the lies.
To care or not to care,
Do I really know?
The choices that I make
Seem to become my regrets.
And every chance I take
Is any man's best bet.
Rather Do Poem
Oh, let me lie, rather than face the haters and their injustice,
In a deep pit filled with the most vile creatures alive,
Or eat every piece of bitter food I find, or let me stand
In the hot, fiery flames of a crematory; crush every bone in my body slowly,
Or drop me into bottomless waters,
Having me sink into the depths forever,
With no one to save me from my gradual, watery death;
Or chop off my tongue and feed it to me raw,
Or better yet, chop off all my connections to socialization,
Leaving me cold and alone to feel nothing;
Or pierce my skin with wide needles a billion times;
With that, let me perform Suspension for hours,
And torture me with knives,
Causing me to spasm with pain,
Forcing the hooks in even deeper--
Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble--
And I will do it without fear or doubt,
To live a hate-free life.
I probably made some mistakes in transcribing, but oh well. My poems aren't that good anyway. I know, they're kinda depression XP I was a sad kid. A lot of family issues.
So anyway, I want to pick up with poetry again, but geez I really can't think of anything to write. Just once in a while, something interesting pops into my head.
Like today, I came up with these:
Poetry used to be my thing,
But that was a really long time ago.
Now all I can do is sing
Along with the words of another's flow.
I live for you.
If I could, I would live for me.
I suffer for you.
If I could, I wouldn't suffer for anyone.
I think for you.
If I could, I would think for me.
I'm alive for you.
I'm not living for me.
Yeah... I'm so not happy haha.
Mm, I was thinking that if I'm home alone tomorrow, I might make that YouTube video haha XP I'll ramble. I can do that pretty well. Or I can lip-sync haha. I just want to make a video. I don't talk to people enough, so I can talk to strangers on YouTube. Or not. I don't know. We'll see. If I don't, I'll get my friends together, and we'll make a video haha. As if :P We need to get together soon.
I think I should get back to my homework. Yeaah.
Edit: Grr.. Blogger doesn't like major html use. My poems all looked weird. So I'm gonna leave them in a plain form (left justified), not their original structures :( Not as aesthetically pleasing XP
Saturday, March 21, 2009
I'm not depressed.
I feel like crap. I feel stuck. I can't get unstuck. I want to get unstuck. I've been feeling nothing but pain. It hurts too much. I want to get rid of this feeling. Or non-feeling. I don't know. The pain feels like "nothing." Or nothingness. The last time I felt like this, it was bad. This time, it feels worse.
Sometimes, I feel like I'm losing grip. But then I regain my grip. So it seems like a momentary weakness. I wish that it was really just that, momentary. Temporary. Temporary pain that will go away. But really, it just keeps coming back, and I have to keep fighting it. I can't give in.
I wish I would open up to someone. Maybe it won't be so bad. I wish I could just let myself be honest and cry until I can't cry anymore. I don't like this feeling. I feel like a dam that's about to burst. It really hurts.
I need help, but I don't want help. I can get through this on my own. I know I tell people, my friends, that they should always be honest and open. To someone close to them. To me, if they can't find anyone else. I will always be there for them. For people. For everyone. I wish I could turn to those same people and let them know what I'm thinking, how I'm feeling. Maybe it wouldn't hurt so much anymore.
But I can't tell them. My problems aren't their problems.
Hah, I know. It's a double standard I've set for myself. I can't help it. My life's not that hard, but I can barely handle it. We shouldn't compare our lives to others' lives, but I know my life isn't that bad. I have friends who are worse-off than I am. And they're surviving. I'm just too damn weak to take on the small challenges in my life. So I won't talk to people. My problems are nothing. They're not important. I don't even know what they are.
I just feel so conflicted, uncomfortable, twisted, just something that I really can't describe. Something that I've been feeling for years and it has gotten worse now. I've been trying to figure out how to describe it, verbalize it. But I can't. For more than 3 years, I've been feeling this feeling that humans don't have a word for. Or at least it's not a word that I know or have ever heard of. It's an unknown word for an indescribable feeling. Maybe that's why I can't think of a word: I can't describe it.
None of my friends know how I feel. I've never told them. If I did tell someone, they'd probably just say it's depression. But it feels different from sadness or melancholy. It's different. Or at least I think it is. But who knows? We don't think the same. You couldn't possibly know what I mean. I've never heard the words I've been searching for. No one knows.
Maybe I am depressed. But how can I be? I have my happy days too. Depressed people don't have happy days. They don't smile. They have pained smiles. You can see it. My smiles aren't pained. No one sees pain in my smiles. I'm not depressed. I'm just not feeling how I want to feel. But I will. I'll work this out, and I'll feel better. Without help. I can do it. Or I can try. It won't hurt to try, right? Right.
I should get out of the house more often. I'm starting to scare myself sometimes :/
Sometimes, I feel like I'm losing grip. But then I regain my grip. So it seems like a momentary weakness. I wish that it was really just that, momentary. Temporary. Temporary pain that will go away. But really, it just keeps coming back, and I have to keep fighting it. I can't give in.
I wish I would open up to someone. Maybe it won't be so bad. I wish I could just let myself be honest and cry until I can't cry anymore. I don't like this feeling. I feel like a dam that's about to burst. It really hurts.
I need help, but I don't want help. I can get through this on my own. I know I tell people, my friends, that they should always be honest and open. To someone close to them. To me, if they can't find anyone else. I will always be there for them. For people. For everyone. I wish I could turn to those same people and let them know what I'm thinking, how I'm feeling. Maybe it wouldn't hurt so much anymore.
But I can't tell them. My problems aren't their problems.
Hah, I know. It's a double standard I've set for myself. I can't help it. My life's not that hard, but I can barely handle it. We shouldn't compare our lives to others' lives, but I know my life isn't that bad. I have friends who are worse-off than I am. And they're surviving. I'm just too damn weak to take on the small challenges in my life. So I won't talk to people. My problems are nothing. They're not important. I don't even know what they are.
I just feel so conflicted, uncomfortable, twisted, just something that I really can't describe. Something that I've been feeling for years and it has gotten worse now. I've been trying to figure out how to describe it, verbalize it. But I can't. For more than 3 years, I've been feeling this feeling that humans don't have a word for. Or at least it's not a word that I know or have ever heard of. It's an unknown word for an indescribable feeling. Maybe that's why I can't think of a word: I can't describe it.
None of my friends know how I feel. I've never told them. If I did tell someone, they'd probably just say it's depression. But it feels different from sadness or melancholy. It's different. Or at least I think it is. But who knows? We don't think the same. You couldn't possibly know what I mean. I've never heard the words I've been searching for. No one knows.
Maybe I am depressed. But how can I be? I have my happy days too. Depressed people don't have happy days. They don't smile. They have pained smiles. You can see it. My smiles aren't pained. No one sees pain in my smiles. I'm not depressed. I'm just not feeling how I want to feel. But I will. I'll work this out, and I'll feel better. Without help. I can do it. Or I can try. It won't hurt to try, right? Right.
I should get out of the house more often. I'm starting to scare myself sometimes :/
Friday, March 20, 2009
Why does hair matter so much?
So ever since I got my haircut, my mom has been on my case more than usual :( She's finding every little excuse to yell at me.. Hair is not that important. It doesn't determine who I am. She thinks I'm doing illegal crap because the hair is a sign.
I don't know why she keeps doing this to me. She keeps telling me that I'm going to grow my hair out again. I can't choose my own haircuts anymore. I just wanted to try something different, and this was different. My friends like it. I like it. My mom and generally the older generation don' t like it.
I'm debating about whether I should keep the cut or just go back to how it used to be. I like my fauxhawk. I wasn't seriously considering keeping it until I saw it. But now, if I keep it, my mom's gonna keep giving me shit about really stupid things. Well, more than she used to. I should just grow it out so she'll stop yelling at me so much.. :( I hate it when she yells at me, especially when it's unwarranted. She could be nice about it. Instead, she's blaming me for nothing. What the hell is she blaming me for? I haven't done anything wrong. She's the one who's yelling about stupid things.
I want to do what I want to do. When I do something, especially something new, I always consider her feelings. When she does something, she doesn't consider how shit affects me or my brother. She's not always thinking of us. She loves us, but she doesn't always know what's best for us. I wish she'd stop acting like she did.
We're supposed to make our own mistakes to learn. If she keeps trying to prevent our mistakes, we'll rely on her less, ignore her more, and never learn. I wish she would see that. Every time I think she does, she just goes back to her old habits because it's easier for her. It's never easy for me.
Ahh, this is just a haircut. Why should people's sympathies matter? Why would their sympathies change when they see my hair? If they change, then I guess those people are judgemental people that don't give others a chance. First impressions aren't everything, especially when you don't even meet the person. My friends know I'm the same person. Why won't my mom see that too?
She's always complaining about how I'm always home, doing nothing and not making any of my own decisions. I make a small decision about something quite unimportant, and it's the end of the world for my mom :( Her only reaction is to berate, scold, and threaten me with "bad" consequences (mostly social things that I obviously don't care for).
Besides, I wanted to make a different decision about my hair. She's got to decide my hairstyle ever since I was born, except twice: Junior year when I grew out my hair, but even then she kept making me get my hair "trimmed." It was more like grow my hair to my shoulders and keep it at that length. I got so frustrated because my hair could've gotten as long as to reach the middle of my back. It never got to because she kept overriding my wishes. How's that fair? :/
The second time is this time. Yeah, I can understand that she's not happy because it's pretty radical. It's rather unorthodox even in this time. But I wanted to try. Just to see. You can't judge something until you've seen/felt/experienced it. I can't understand how she can be angry that I "defied" her. My decision, not hers. My hair, not hers. I'm fuckin' 18. I need a little liberty with my life.
She doesn't care that I like it. She doesn't like it, so I can't keep the style. Some respect. There's no respect. I said this before in my old LJ: I can't respect people who don't respect me. I don't think I've ever really respected my mom.
I love her, sure. She's my mom. I'm supposed to love her, yeah? I think that's dumb. You shouldn't have to love people just because you're connected by blood. Blood doesn't really mean too much. It seems to because we give it that importance. But blood is blood, a red sticky substance that helps to keep you alive. I shouldn't have to love my family because we're related.
I should love people because they deserve my love. I should respect people who deserve my respect. And I believe respect should be mutual, not one-sided.
My mom takes care of me, sure. But she shows no respect for me. She doesn't even know me anymore. She doesn't pay attention to how I feel or what I say or want. She's already told me that she won't listen if what I say doesn't please her. So I know she never really listens. Most things I say never please her, unless I'm trying to get her to like my friends (I talk about my "smart" friends).
Sometimes, I don't feel like I'm her daughter. Sometimes, I feel like I'm her employee. I don't get paid. I'm just supposed to do what she wants me to do (and repay her with my deference when I'm older). And I've done that for most of my life. But I can't stay her little employee forever. I'm so stuck under her. I'm dependent. I can't think for myself. I used to try, but she'd disagree with something and yell at me. I stopped trying to think for myself. I suppose that may be why I have trouble making my own decisions. I'm always I'll choose the wrong thing for my mom.
Gah, I want to move out. I can't live with my mom. She won't let me do my own thing. She complains that I get to do too much already. Yeah, compared to her living in Viet Nam when she was younger. Obviously, the values and customs of Vietnamese people and those of Americans are different. Here, we value independent thinking and growing, not controlled thinking and growth. She wants me to grow but by her standards, not my own.
And I can't break myself from that. My friends suggest that I should just do what I do, but I can't. I'm still stuck on trying to make my mom happy. I do the wrong thing, and everything becomes my fault. Everything I do becomes a good excuse to blame me. I gave her enough reason with this haircut. I don't want her to keep yelling at me. I don't want to go to bed crying every night anymore.
I think I'll just grow out my hair like she wants. One fewer things to get blamed for. I don't need to stress about this, about my hair. It's just hair. One decision I don't need to make.
As long as my hair stays the way it is, she's going to keep putting me down. I hope my hair grows out fast, so she can just shut up about it.
Ugh, I have no willpower. I don't want to argue with her. I don't argue with her. I just shut up. Why can't she take the hint and shut up too? The conversation's over, but she's still bringing it up every time she sees me. I'm going to dread talking to her and even seeing her now, until my hair is "back to normal."
So much for trying something new and different. It's making me miserable.
I don't know why she keeps doing this to me. She keeps telling me that I'm going to grow my hair out again. I can't choose my own haircuts anymore. I just wanted to try something different, and this was different. My friends like it. I like it. My mom and generally the older generation don' t like it.
I'm debating about whether I should keep the cut or just go back to how it used to be. I like my fauxhawk. I wasn't seriously considering keeping it until I saw it. But now, if I keep it, my mom's gonna keep giving me shit about really stupid things. Well, more than she used to. I should just grow it out so she'll stop yelling at me so much.. :( I hate it when she yells at me, especially when it's unwarranted. She could be nice about it. Instead, she's blaming me for nothing. What the hell is she blaming me for? I haven't done anything wrong. She's the one who's yelling about stupid things.
I want to do what I want to do. When I do something, especially something new, I always consider her feelings. When she does something, she doesn't consider how shit affects me or my brother. She's not always thinking of us. She loves us, but she doesn't always know what's best for us. I wish she'd stop acting like she did.
We're supposed to make our own mistakes to learn. If she keeps trying to prevent our mistakes, we'll rely on her less, ignore her more, and never learn. I wish she would see that. Every time I think she does, she just goes back to her old habits because it's easier for her. It's never easy for me.
Ahh, this is just a haircut. Why should people's sympathies matter? Why would their sympathies change when they see my hair? If they change, then I guess those people are judgemental people that don't give others a chance. First impressions aren't everything, especially when you don't even meet the person. My friends know I'm the same person. Why won't my mom see that too?
She's always complaining about how I'm always home, doing nothing and not making any of my own decisions. I make a small decision about something quite unimportant, and it's the end of the world for my mom :( Her only reaction is to berate, scold, and threaten me with "bad" consequences (mostly social things that I obviously don't care for).
Besides, I wanted to make a different decision about my hair. She's got to decide my hairstyle ever since I was born, except twice: Junior year when I grew out my hair, but even then she kept making me get my hair "trimmed." It was more like grow my hair to my shoulders and keep it at that length. I got so frustrated because my hair could've gotten as long as to reach the middle of my back. It never got to because she kept overriding my wishes. How's that fair? :/
The second time is this time. Yeah, I can understand that she's not happy because it's pretty radical. It's rather unorthodox even in this time. But I wanted to try. Just to see. You can't judge something until you've seen/felt/experienced it. I can't understand how she can be angry that I "defied" her. My decision, not hers. My hair, not hers. I'm fuckin' 18. I need a little liberty with my life.
She doesn't care that I like it. She doesn't like it, so I can't keep the style. Some respect. There's no respect. I said this before in my old LJ: I can't respect people who don't respect me. I don't think I've ever really respected my mom.
I love her, sure. She's my mom. I'm supposed to love her, yeah? I think that's dumb. You shouldn't have to love people just because you're connected by blood. Blood doesn't really mean too much. It seems to because we give it that importance. But blood is blood, a red sticky substance that helps to keep you alive. I shouldn't have to love my family because we're related.
I should love people because they deserve my love. I should respect people who deserve my respect. And I believe respect should be mutual, not one-sided.
My mom takes care of me, sure. But she shows no respect for me. She doesn't even know me anymore. She doesn't pay attention to how I feel or what I say or want. She's already told me that she won't listen if what I say doesn't please her. So I know she never really listens. Most things I say never please her, unless I'm trying to get her to like my friends (I talk about my "smart" friends).
Sometimes, I don't feel like I'm her daughter. Sometimes, I feel like I'm her employee. I don't get paid. I'm just supposed to do what she wants me to do (and repay her with my deference when I'm older). And I've done that for most of my life. But I can't stay her little employee forever. I'm so stuck under her. I'm dependent. I can't think for myself. I used to try, but she'd disagree with something and yell at me. I stopped trying to think for myself. I suppose that may be why I have trouble making my own decisions. I'm always I'll choose the wrong thing for my mom.
Gah, I want to move out. I can't live with my mom. She won't let me do my own thing. She complains that I get to do too much already. Yeah, compared to her living in Viet Nam when she was younger. Obviously, the values and customs of Vietnamese people and those of Americans are different. Here, we value independent thinking and growing, not controlled thinking and growth. She wants me to grow but by her standards, not my own.
And I can't break myself from that. My friends suggest that I should just do what I do, but I can't. I'm still stuck on trying to make my mom happy. I do the wrong thing, and everything becomes my fault. Everything I do becomes a good excuse to blame me. I gave her enough reason with this haircut. I don't want her to keep yelling at me. I don't want to go to bed crying every night anymore.
I think I'll just grow out my hair like she wants. One fewer things to get blamed for. I don't need to stress about this, about my hair. It's just hair. One decision I don't need to make.
As long as my hair stays the way it is, she's going to keep putting me down. I hope my hair grows out fast, so she can just shut up about it.
Ugh, I have no willpower. I don't want to argue with her. I don't argue with her. I just shut up. Why can't she take the hint and shut up too? The conversation's over, but she's still bringing it up every time she sees me. I'm going to dread talking to her and even seeing her now, until my hair is "back to normal."
So much for trying something new and different. It's making me miserable.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Today, I got a haircut.
Yay for New Year's resolution #12.
I went to my brother's friend's salon near SJSU. 2 o'clock appointment with Linh. Cool dude haha.
I got a fauxhawk. I think it looks pretty good. It's so weird though because I've never really strayed from my usual haircut. I was so afraid it would turn out bad. If it's bad, well it's not too bad, imo. The wind kinda messed it up though. Hopefully, I can get it to look good tomorrow haha.
And my mom freaked out, saying I look like a gangster -__- She complains about me never making my own decisions. And when I make a small decision she doesn't agree with, she gets angry at me. How can I have any autonomy if all she ever does is reprimand me? Stupid.
Anyway, whatever. I don't care. I just wanted to try something different. It's not too different. I just have to pay attention to my hair more now haha. We'll see if I keep it. I don't know yet. My mom wants to make me grow it back out to the usual do. Grr, I need to get out, get away.
Hmm, what else?
Oh yeah, I'm such a bad student. Procrastinating like hell. Now I have to try to do 2 essays tonight. I'll probably only get one done though. Whatever.
Mm, that's it. I just wanted to document a day where I did something rather radical by my standards. Err well, mother's standards.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
That's so gay.
I honestly don't care if people say "That's so gay." I hardly notice.
But that's not what this is about. I'm not sure what this entry is about.
It's just I was talking to my mom and B about hella stuff. Somehow, we ended up talking about this guy who doesn't work. His wife's sister is one of my brother's bosses. That conversation isn't important, but what my mom said about the sisters was. To me, anyway.
Mom (in Viet): "What terrible luck for the two sisters. They're both so beautiful. The older one has a Communist husband who doesn't work and doesn't love her. The other one is gay. How terrible." I don't know if that should bother me anymore, but it did.
We don't talk about anything gay-related. Unless it's about gay hairstylists. When it comes to lesbians, there's nothing to say. Except my brother mentions his bosses (both lesbians). I don't know. My mom doesn't look at me when she talks about his bosses. She just looks away. I don't know if it's me or if she's just doing it.
I came out to her toward the beginning of senior year, but we haven't talked about it since. I don't know what she's thinking. I wish I knew what she was thinking. But she won't say anything. Neither will I. I guess I like the safety, but the not knowing is difficult. I wish we'd talk, but I don't think we have that kind of mother-daughter relationship.
I don't really talk about it with anyone :/ Yeah, sure, I talk to my friends about liking girls or whatever. But I don't talk to anyone about the family stuff. I'm not sure I know anyone who can relate. You know, to the silence, the avoidance of the topic. But even if I did have someone to talk to, what the hell am I supposed to say? I wish my mom would be more accepting? She is accepting. She just doesn't say anything. I guess I want to hear my mom say something supportive, but whatever. I don't need it. Not now.
I just don't like the awkwardness of when she starts talking about my brother's bosses and somehow their sexuality always comes into the conversation. Egh.
I just gotta let it go.
But that's not what this is about. I'm not sure what this entry is about.
It's just I was talking to my mom and B about hella stuff. Somehow, we ended up talking about this guy who doesn't work. His wife's sister is one of my brother's bosses. That conversation isn't important, but what my mom said about the sisters was. To me, anyway.
Mom (in Viet): "What terrible luck for the two sisters. They're both so beautiful. The older one has a Communist husband who doesn't work and doesn't love her. The other one is gay. How terrible." I don't know if that should bother me anymore, but it did.
We don't talk about anything gay-related. Unless it's about gay hairstylists. When it comes to lesbians, there's nothing to say. Except my brother mentions his bosses (both lesbians). I don't know. My mom doesn't look at me when she talks about his bosses. She just looks away. I don't know if it's me or if she's just doing it.
I came out to her toward the beginning of senior year, but we haven't talked about it since. I don't know what she's thinking. I wish I knew what she was thinking. But she won't say anything. Neither will I. I guess I like the safety, but the not knowing is difficult. I wish we'd talk, but I don't think we have that kind of mother-daughter relationship.
I don't really talk about it with anyone :/ Yeah, sure, I talk to my friends about liking girls or whatever. But I don't talk to anyone about the family stuff. I'm not sure I know anyone who can relate. You know, to the silence, the avoidance of the topic. But even if I did have someone to talk to, what the hell am I supposed to say? I wish my mom would be more accepting? She is accepting. She just doesn't say anything. I guess I want to hear my mom say something supportive, but whatever. I don't need it. Not now.
I just don't like the awkwardness of when she starts talking about my brother's bosses and somehow their sexuality always comes into the conversation. Egh.
I just gotta let it go.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Why am I still thinking about her?
Again, I forgot something. Darn my memory -_-
So, this morning, I had a dream that I actually remember.
I dreamed about a girl. I haven't seen her since I visited ST back in January. I miss talking to her :/ I've tried to call her a few times since, but her phone's always off. I haven't gotten any calls back nor any replies to my texts.
I think I used to like her when I was still a senior at ST. I say "I think" because I wasn't sure if I wanted to like her (it gets troubling to like girls who only ever talk about guys). I think she might have liked me. She might've told me. But then she changed her mind. I remember she had "something important" to tell me once. I waited. But she never said anything. When I asked her about it the next day, she chuckled and said she couldn't remember. I doubted it. It's hard to forget when you have something important to say. But I didn't push it. Maybe I should have. Maybe I should have said I liked her.
Anyway, I've remembered her from time to time over the past 9 months. I didn't think about liking her. I just thought about her. I miss talking to her, listening to her. But I don't think anything's ever gonna happen there. I can't even get in touch with her.
I haven't been thinking about her lately, but the dream made me think of her again. She likes a guy I know. Well, that's what she told me. I know who he is. I wonder...
Back to the dream. It was short. I meet her somewhere. She seems happy to see me and gives me a hug. I can't stop smiling at her. I ask her about why I haven't been able to reach her. She says that her phone is broken and she's been thinking about me and feeling sorry about not reaching me. She misses me. My heart does a little dance, and I just keep smiling, saying it's ok, we'll keep in touch better now.
That's all there is to the dream. What I remember most is how she looked in the dream. Sweet, happy, and just so damn cute haha.
I have no idea why I dreamed about her. I haven't been thinking about her. Or have I? Mm.
Damn. I need to obsess about someone I actually talk to more often. Why am I thinking about someone I don't even see anymore? :/ Letting-go issues, must be.
Now, I'm thinking about every person I had a serious interest in. Only 4 or 5 people. I debate the seriousness of my past interests a lot. 4 girls, 1 boy. Haha. There's no one for me to like right now, so I can only think back to the past. What fun.
Thinking about these kinda things just makes me feel so alone. I keep feeling so alone. Gahh.. I need to stop thinking. Or to start pursuing someone hahaha. Make this into a game. No, I wouldn't do that. But I don't know what or who to think about. The stuff I think about now are too disheartening. I hate thinking about the future. I want to think about someone.
Who??
Haha this reminds me of my first couple of entries on LJ. Wondering who will be "the one." Still waiting for my firsts and all. I'm still patient, maybe complaining about my chances a little more than I used to. I just don't want to feel so...
Empty and alone.
So, this morning, I had a dream that I actually remember.
I dreamed about a girl. I haven't seen her since I visited ST back in January. I miss talking to her :/ I've tried to call her a few times since, but her phone's always off. I haven't gotten any calls back nor any replies to my texts.
I think I used to like her when I was still a senior at ST. I say "I think" because I wasn't sure if I wanted to like her (it gets troubling to like girls who only ever talk about guys). I think she might have liked me. She might've told me. But then she changed her mind. I remember she had "something important" to tell me once. I waited. But she never said anything. When I asked her about it the next day, she chuckled and said she couldn't remember. I doubted it. It's hard to forget when you have something important to say. But I didn't push it. Maybe I should have. Maybe I should have said I liked her.
Anyway, I've remembered her from time to time over the past 9 months. I didn't think about liking her. I just thought about her. I miss talking to her, listening to her. But I don't think anything's ever gonna happen there. I can't even get in touch with her.
I haven't been thinking about her lately, but the dream made me think of her again. She likes a guy I know. Well, that's what she told me. I know who he is. I wonder...
Back to the dream. It was short. I meet her somewhere. She seems happy to see me and gives me a hug. I can't stop smiling at her. I ask her about why I haven't been able to reach her. She says that her phone is broken and she's been thinking about me and feeling sorry about not reaching me. She misses me. My heart does a little dance, and I just keep smiling, saying it's ok, we'll keep in touch better now.
That's all there is to the dream. What I remember most is how she looked in the dream. Sweet, happy, and just so damn cute haha.
I have no idea why I dreamed about her. I haven't been thinking about her. Or have I? Mm.
Damn. I need to obsess about someone I actually talk to more often. Why am I thinking about someone I don't even see anymore? :/ Letting-go issues, must be.
Now, I'm thinking about every person I had a serious interest in. Only 4 or 5 people. I debate the seriousness of my past interests a lot. 4 girls, 1 boy. Haha. There's no one for me to like right now, so I can only think back to the past. What fun.
Thinking about these kinda things just makes me feel so alone. I keep feeling so alone. Gahh.. I need to stop thinking. Or to start pursuing someone hahaha. Make this into a game. No, I wouldn't do that. But I don't know what or who to think about. The stuff I think about now are too disheartening. I hate thinking about the future. I want to think about someone.
Who??
Haha this reminds me of my first couple of entries on LJ. Wondering who will be "the one." Still waiting for my firsts and all. I'm still patient, maybe complaining about my chances a little more than I used to. I just don't want to feel so...
Empty and alone.
Major?
So last night, I forgot to update about something haha. Surprise, surprise.
Yesterday, in English, everyone got their first out-of-class essays back. I didn't. Mine wasn't done in time. Dang, why does that always happen to me?
Anyway, so I came by Prof Williams' office a lil later to pick it up. And since I was the only one whose paper she didn't finish grading, she gave a lil one-on-one about my essay. When I was about to leave, she asked me what I was majoring in, and I said Undeclared. Then she suggested that I major in English. I just smiled and shook my head. I have never considered English to be a possible major for me. I don't really like English haha.
I have a knack for writing? No waayyy. I don't like to write. At least not formally. Academically. Most of the time in school, I have to write about things that I don't care for. The rest of the time, even if it is something I do care about, I have to write better than I'm used to. I honestly don't care to improve my writing. I'm happy with the way it is.
Writing, I want to keep as recreational and free as possible. School and I just don't mix in my pot. School has drained the fun out of a lot of things for me. I don't want my written self-expression to lose its comfort. School made me hate math. Ok, well, I don't hate it, but I don't love it as much as I used to. Sometimes I don't think I even like it much at all anymore.
Anyway, when I walking to the light rail stop, I was thinking, "Me, an English major? No way. No. Never would have believed that. Noo." Then when I was home, I remembered I should be open-minded to the possibilities. Ahh.
Possibilities. But I've never considered English a possibility. I never liked English. I mean, I've been pretty good at everything related to the English language (except vocab) throughout my primary education years. And I even improved a lot on my vocabulary in the 6th grade and all. And my scores on the SAT9's or CAT6's, whatever they're called now, have been pretty high. Proficient or Advanced. I had been consistent with those. But they meant nothing to me.
Hmm, what would I do with an English major anyway? Or a minor? English seems like a social personality's major. I'm not social. As much as I want to be, I know I'm not. I like to keep away from most people. But then I also want to be around people.
Gahh, I'm such a confusing person. Confusion will be the bane of my existence -__-
You know, I just like blogging because I don't need a form, a structure, or anything important like those. Blogging can be all fluff, and it wouldn't matter. And people don't read my blog very often if at all. (I seriously don't know if anyone reads this)
A silent audience. I like that. Whether it be ghosts or real readers. I'm not afraid to put down what's on my mind.
Hah, somehow I managed to go from talking about English major to English writing to blogging. I love my tangents oh so much haha. But yeah, English major. I don't know. I don't know what people see in my writing. I don't see anything, except for the words I put down and the thoughts that were attached to them.
Write as I speak or think. That's the only way I go. Even for my essays. That's why I always worry about how they flow. No transitions. I always put those in later.
I just don't want to fit into a writing mold. I like my disconnected, albeit difficult-to-follow style. It's how I write, how I think. It's just, I write for me. I don't write for another audience, even if there may be one. I think that's the hardest part about writing an English paper for me. I don't want to write for another audience. Why should I care to write for them? I don't want to change people's minds. I might want them to listen to my opinion, but that's it.
Why do things have to get so complicated with explanations and reasoning and all that? Yeah, sure, they're good for arguments. But I don't want to argue. I would much rather listen to people and make my own judgments. Keep 'em to myself. The rest of the world doesn't need to know what I think, what one person thinks.
Oh, such negative thinking. Hah, I should just go back to updating about my daily routines XP
Yesterday, in English, everyone got their first out-of-class essays back. I didn't. Mine wasn't done in time. Dang, why does that always happen to me?
Anyway, so I came by Prof Williams' office a lil later to pick it up. And since I was the only one whose paper she didn't finish grading, she gave a lil one-on-one about my essay. When I was about to leave, she asked me what I was majoring in, and I said Undeclared. Then she suggested that I major in English. I just smiled and shook my head. I have never considered English to be a possible major for me. I don't really like English haha.
I have a knack for writing? No waayyy. I don't like to write. At least not formally. Academically. Most of the time in school, I have to write about things that I don't care for. The rest of the time, even if it is something I do care about, I have to write better than I'm used to. I honestly don't care to improve my writing. I'm happy with the way it is.
Writing, I want to keep as recreational and free as possible. School and I just don't mix in my pot. School has drained the fun out of a lot of things for me. I don't want my written self-expression to lose its comfort. School made me hate math. Ok, well, I don't hate it, but I don't love it as much as I used to. Sometimes I don't think I even like it much at all anymore.
Anyway, when I walking to the light rail stop, I was thinking, "Me, an English major? No way. No. Never would have believed that. Noo." Then when I was home, I remembered I should be open-minded to the possibilities. Ahh.
Possibilities. But I've never considered English a possibility. I never liked English. I mean, I've been pretty good at everything related to the English language (except vocab) throughout my primary education years. And I even improved a lot on my vocabulary in the 6th grade and all. And my scores on the SAT9's or CAT6's, whatever they're called now, have been pretty high. Proficient or Advanced. I had been consistent with those. But they meant nothing to me.
Hmm, what would I do with an English major anyway? Or a minor? English seems like a social personality's major. I'm not social. As much as I want to be, I know I'm not. I like to keep away from most people. But then I also want to be around people.
Gahh, I'm such a confusing person. Confusion will be the bane of my existence -__-
You know, I just like blogging because I don't need a form, a structure, or anything important like those. Blogging can be all fluff, and it wouldn't matter. And people don't read my blog very often if at all. (I seriously don't know if anyone reads this)
A silent audience. I like that. Whether it be ghosts or real readers. I'm not afraid to put down what's on my mind.
Hah, somehow I managed to go from talking about English major to English writing to blogging. I love my tangents oh so much haha. But yeah, English major. I don't know. I don't know what people see in my writing. I don't see anything, except for the words I put down and the thoughts that were attached to them.
Write as I speak or think. That's the only way I go. Even for my essays. That's why I always worry about how they flow. No transitions. I always put those in later.
I just don't want to fit into a writing mold. I like my disconnected, albeit difficult-to-follow style. It's how I write, how I think. It's just, I write for me. I don't write for another audience, even if there may be one. I think that's the hardest part about writing an English paper for me. I don't want to write for another audience. Why should I care to write for them? I don't want to change people's minds. I might want them to listen to my opinion, but that's it.
Why do things have to get so complicated with explanations and reasoning and all that? Yeah, sure, they're good for arguments. But I don't want to argue. I would much rather listen to people and make my own judgments. Keep 'em to myself. The rest of the world doesn't need to know what I think, what one person thinks.
Oh, such negative thinking. Hah, I should just go back to updating about my daily routines XP
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Delusional, indeed...
A few things to mention in this entry...
First, today in Poli Sci, we learned about deceptive statistics. I believe I've already explained how I felt about statistics. Anyway, we did a little probability test with quarters. Yeah, the coin toss thing. Tossed 100 times. My group of 3 tossed 52 tails and 48 heads.
You know the first thing I thought when I saw that? Guess. Haha. I thought, "Wow. Those numbers look very familiar. Why?" Then a little later, I remembered: Prop 8 results. Yeah, I know, a common coincidence.
Mm, I don't remember where I was gonna go with that bit. Was supposed to lead to "We don't know what we don't know. We only know what we might know." But I don't think I can explain that well enough. Oh well.
In English, I had a group presentation about global revisions. Fun stuff. Anyway, after the presentation, Prof Williams talked about using "one" as a pronoun in academic writing. It used to be overused. Now, we see it less and less in contemporary writing. I like "one," but I agree too much of it is tiring.
When I see the pronoun, I immediately imagine an old man with an English accent and a long nose speaking to me. He speaks with his nose pointing upward as if looking at me would make him sneeze or something. Pretentious. Indeed.
Obsession. Makes me think of the Frankie J song. "Amor, no es amor..." I can obsess easily, but I can put some things out of mind just as easily. I used to obsess about crushes. But I haven't liked anyone since high school, which ended only 9 months ago. But it's been 9 lonely, quiet months. I sometimes don't know what to think about if not people. But people disappoint me. I want an idealized person to think about. And what is better than an infatuation to occupy my thoughts?
I sadden myself sometimes. I feel so alone when I think about people I can't have, but I might feel worse if I don't think of them at all. But then I'm ok. I've been alone for over 18 years. I've gotten used to it, but I feel like the comfort of not knowing is slipping.
I just want to have someone to think about. I want to be delusional sometimes. Hmm, delusional, what a thought.
PDA. I've come across people who shudder at the thought of gay couples kissing. Weird, queer, uncomfortable. At first, I thought they were just idiots (for I think all people are idiots). Now that I think about it, however, I agree. PDA is weird. PDA of any kind. I thought I was comfortable with it, and I am. From a distance. I blame movies. Movies make PDA seem so sweet and passionate. It's touching, moving. You'd think it could be the same in real life. But we have to take the context into consideration.
If I see a people kiss on screen, it's like "Whatever, they're kissing. Big whoop." But in real life, it's different. For me, anyway. If I see people kissing from at least 10 feet away, I'm still nonchalant about it. But when a couple is kissing in front of me (within 4 or 5 feet) and there's nowhere else for me to go or nothing to block my view, I feel awkward. It's like "Do I keep looking straightahead or do I look away? What the hell am I supposed to do?" No one's looking at me, but I still can't help but feel self-conscious. If I keep looking, I feel like a gawker. If I look away, I'm too shy for my own good. But it's respectful, isn't it?
Anyway, if I know the couple, then it's a little better but not by much. But I think it's worst when I'm a third wheel. Ugh, I hate being the third wheel with a couple. That's happened to me a few times, and I felt so uncomfortable all those times. Why must I be so nice and say yes?? Aiyah... Luckily, that hasn't happened to me lately. Third wheel, tch. I'm too nice a friend. I don't even know why those couples invited me along. Whyy? To make me uncomfortable?
Ok, tangent ending. PDA, not always a comfortable situation. But that shouldn't stop people from showing PDA. Ultimately, I don't care and sometimes think it's sweet, cute, or whatever. I think it's just me. I'm not around people enough to be used to all these strange public customs or anything.
I don't daydream as much as I used to. I don't think as much as I used to. Or do I and don't notice? Hmm. I need to pay attention more. Lately, I've been imagining myself as a popular kid. Making friends wherever I go. And keeping them.
It seems I don't keep my friends well anymore if at all. I'm not sure I know how to speak to them at times. I can only grin and nod. Grin and nod. What I always do. Making new friends is difficult. Has always been. I always waited for others to speak to me. Then I started speaking to other people on my own, but not often. I should. I should just try. I've been successful with that. I still talk to some of those people. But I think I fear people more and more every day. I think about how we live now, and I can never be sure how to react to the people I imagine are around me now. I feel like I can get along with almost anyone, but only an open person does that. I know I'm not open.
I'm friendly, not open. I'm not a private person, but I'm not open. Why? My friends are very open for the most part. You would think that they would have rubbed off on me. Perhaps they have, and I haven't noticed. Or I've regressed. I always regress. In school, in life. Why?
Back to daydreams: I've been thinking about life without my family. Independent, confident, impressive, skilled, versatile, eloquent, knowledgeable, and more. Qualities I want to have but won't give to myself now. I'll only think about what I would be if I used courage. I know my family isn't holding me back. I am. But I don't always want to blame me. It's better to just imagine a closer-to-perfect world. People like me. I do more and try harder (or try less and still be great). I love. I embrace my flaws. I embrace... people. I miss young life when none of this mattered much. I've grown to feel inadequate. I let myself feel this way, I know. I haven't tried hard enough to do better.
Who could love such an inconsistent person? So inadequate. So afraid. So boring. So lost.
I need to stop procrastinating. I've got a lot of homework to do this weekend. Essays, arguments. I'm going to be up late on Sunday night. I'm sure of it. Ahh, I should do better. After Spring Break. Maybe.
I wish I could remember my dreams. I've been forgetting them too easily.
First, today in Poli Sci, we learned about deceptive statistics. I believe I've already explained how I felt about statistics. Anyway, we did a little probability test with quarters. Yeah, the coin toss thing. Tossed 100 times. My group of 3 tossed 52 tails and 48 heads.
You know the first thing I thought when I saw that? Guess. Haha. I thought, "Wow. Those numbers look very familiar. Why?" Then a little later, I remembered: Prop 8 results. Yeah, I know, a common coincidence.
Mm, I don't remember where I was gonna go with that bit. Was supposed to lead to "We don't know what we don't know. We only know what we might know." But I don't think I can explain that well enough. Oh well.
In English, I had a group presentation about global revisions. Fun stuff. Anyway, after the presentation, Prof Williams talked about using "one" as a pronoun in academic writing. It used to be overused. Now, we see it less and less in contemporary writing. I like "one," but I agree too much of it is tiring.
When I see the pronoun, I immediately imagine an old man with an English accent and a long nose speaking to me. He speaks with his nose pointing upward as if looking at me would make him sneeze or something. Pretentious. Indeed.
Obsession. Makes me think of the Frankie J song. "Amor, no es amor..." I can obsess easily, but I can put some things out of mind just as easily. I used to obsess about crushes. But I haven't liked anyone since high school, which ended only 9 months ago. But it's been 9 lonely, quiet months. I sometimes don't know what to think about if not people. But people disappoint me. I want an idealized person to think about. And what is better than an infatuation to occupy my thoughts?
I sadden myself sometimes. I feel so alone when I think about people I can't have, but I might feel worse if I don't think of them at all. But then I'm ok. I've been alone for over 18 years. I've gotten used to it, but I feel like the comfort of not knowing is slipping.
I just want to have someone to think about. I want to be delusional sometimes. Hmm, delusional, what a thought.
PDA. I've come across people who shudder at the thought of gay couples kissing. Weird, queer, uncomfortable. At first, I thought they were just idiots (for I think all people are idiots). Now that I think about it, however, I agree. PDA is weird. PDA of any kind. I thought I was comfortable with it, and I am. From a distance. I blame movies. Movies make PDA seem so sweet and passionate. It's touching, moving. You'd think it could be the same in real life. But we have to take the context into consideration.
If I see a people kiss on screen, it's like "Whatever, they're kissing. Big whoop." But in real life, it's different. For me, anyway. If I see people kissing from at least 10 feet away, I'm still nonchalant about it. But when a couple is kissing in front of me (within 4 or 5 feet) and there's nowhere else for me to go or nothing to block my view, I feel awkward. It's like "Do I keep looking straightahead or do I look away? What the hell am I supposed to do?" No one's looking at me, but I still can't help but feel self-conscious. If I keep looking, I feel like a gawker. If I look away, I'm too shy for my own good. But it's respectful, isn't it?
Anyway, if I know the couple, then it's a little better but not by much. But I think it's worst when I'm a third wheel. Ugh, I hate being the third wheel with a couple. That's happened to me a few times, and I felt so uncomfortable all those times. Why must I be so nice and say yes?? Aiyah... Luckily, that hasn't happened to me lately. Third wheel, tch. I'm too nice a friend. I don't even know why those couples invited me along. Whyy? To make me uncomfortable?
Ok, tangent ending. PDA, not always a comfortable situation. But that shouldn't stop people from showing PDA. Ultimately, I don't care and sometimes think it's sweet, cute, or whatever. I think it's just me. I'm not around people enough to be used to all these strange public customs or anything.
I don't daydream as much as I used to. I don't think as much as I used to. Or do I and don't notice? Hmm. I need to pay attention more. Lately, I've been imagining myself as a popular kid. Making friends wherever I go. And keeping them.
It seems I don't keep my friends well anymore if at all. I'm not sure I know how to speak to them at times. I can only grin and nod. Grin and nod. What I always do. Making new friends is difficult. Has always been. I always waited for others to speak to me. Then I started speaking to other people on my own, but not often. I should. I should just try. I've been successful with that. I still talk to some of those people. But I think I fear people more and more every day. I think about how we live now, and I can never be sure how to react to the people I imagine are around me now. I feel like I can get along with almost anyone, but only an open person does that. I know I'm not open.
I'm friendly, not open. I'm not a private person, but I'm not open. Why? My friends are very open for the most part. You would think that they would have rubbed off on me. Perhaps they have, and I haven't noticed. Or I've regressed. I always regress. In school, in life. Why?
Back to daydreams: I've been thinking about life without my family. Independent, confident, impressive, skilled, versatile, eloquent, knowledgeable, and more. Qualities I want to have but won't give to myself now. I'll only think about what I would be if I used courage. I know my family isn't holding me back. I am. But I don't always want to blame me. It's better to just imagine a closer-to-perfect world. People like me. I do more and try harder (or try less and still be great). I love. I embrace my flaws. I embrace... people. I miss young life when none of this mattered much. I've grown to feel inadequate. I let myself feel this way, I know. I haven't tried hard enough to do better.
Who could love such an inconsistent person? So inadequate. So afraid. So boring. So lost.
I need to stop procrastinating. I've got a lot of homework to do this weekend. Essays, arguments. I'm going to be up late on Sunday night. I'm sure of it. Ahh, I should do better. After Spring Break. Maybe.
I wish I could remember my dreams. I've been forgetting them too easily.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
In order for some to win...
A realization I made a while ago and also continually: In order for some to win, others must lose.
Have you noticed?
Have you noticed?
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