I hate this feeling, when I'm not control of the situation. My limbs simultaneously tense up and loosen at the same time. My head spins and I feel like I'm swimming through tar. My chest tightens and my throat squeezes and my heart pounds. My eyes water. I can't help but cry; the tears just spill over. And I always find myself like this for the dumbest reasons, that I know aren't worth feeling like this. But I do.

I feel like I could be doing a much better job about posting on this blog. However, I think I've used up all of my words. Today, in English, I tried to write a paragraph about The Great Gatsby, and it was an assignment designed the way I like to write. And I sat and stared at the blinking cursor for at least five minutes. I never know where to start anymore. Beginnings are hard. Endings can be messy, yet they are also simple. Loose ends become tied up, and you're left with a clear image of results. Starting from scratch is the hard part.
I'm not sure where I'm going with any of this. I don't know what I want, or where I'm going. I often change my direction to accomodate others. I frequently see myself adapting and twisting and turning to fit my surroundings. I feel as though I'm made of Silly Putty, and people form me into whatever shape they want me to be in, and all I do is sit and allow it to happen. But to tell the truth, I don't know who exactly I am. I'm afraid to find out what's underneath all of these layers of other people who have shaped me. What would I possibly discover? And what if I don't like it?

Hello, again. I've been rather terrible about posting on here, as of late. I wish I could say that I've been too busy, but I haven't. I just haven't had much to say. I went to the first football game last night with Pat and some people, but we got there late, and then left early and went to Friendly's. I feel like I might be getting a little sick, just a scratchy throat and a little congestion, and a slight headache. I haven't really been doing anything out of the ordinary. Guitar lessons and Small Group (Chamber Choir) which just started.

I have to go watch Jake and go out with Jess. I'll be back.

I said I needed a change. However, cutting off around two inches of my own hair was not my wisest choice. I know hair grows, but I'm stuck with this for a while. I don't even feel any different. I still feel like something needs to change. I'm so bored with so many aspects of my life. I need some kind of excitement, to convince me it's all still real.

I just got back from Clue callbacks. Ahhh! Nerves.

"Truth is beautiful, without doubt; but so are lies." Emerson.

Don't get me wrong. I am happy. However, there's something under my skin, and I can't get it off my mind. It's beginning to consume my thoughts, and my body, twisting my brain as if wringing it dry, searching for more ways to send my head in wretched circles around the ideas that fall into the pit of my stomach like dead weight. It's manifesting under my skin, in my veins, threatening to explode any minute. And yet, the smile remains plastered to my face. A carefully carved away expression that shows everyone that yes, I am happy.
I'm tired of being lied to, though. I'm tired of being told what I want to hear. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the gesture. How sweet of you, to be looking out for my feelings. And yes, I know it's not just for me. Keeping me happy preserves not just my sanity, but yours, too. But at the same time, I am so tired of being lied to now, so that later we can go back to normal. I understand that telling me exactly what I want to hear keeps this image of perfection, and happiness, that so many people work so hard to achieve. I understand that so many people look at us, and see what we have, and still, I want to be told the truth. I no longer find these false promises endearing. At first, yes, they were sweet. You were trying, and I appreciated it. However, I am growing comfortable here. And every time you make another promise to save my feelings, to fix things, I wind up still being disappointed later, because in the end, we're right where we started. Perhaps you forget. But if that's the case, then what you said meant nothing to you in the first place. And if that's the case, what else have you said to me, that has been empty? I would rather have someone, and their flaws, and have to accept with, and deal with them, than someone who would rather fix things with hollow promises.
Don't get me wrong. I appreciate your effort. But, truth is easier to hang onto than pretty lies wrapped in bows.

School.

So, it's 9:03, the night before my third day of school. I already have a rather large pile of math homework, and many, many complaints. I'll go through my schedule, like I did last year. However, now we have Block Scheduling, so all of the classes are like, 83 minutes. Oh, except for lunch, that's fine.

A Days.
Period 1. French 4 Honors: French this year might be pretty good. It's based mostly around culture this year, so I'm actually rather excited. The period goes by quickly.

Period 2. Modern U.S. History: So, my teacher has a monotone. He's kind of funny, but he just goes on and on for days. The class never ends, I swear. Time stops so that History can drudge on as long as possible. I can't imagine I'll enjoy history very much this year.

Flex: Basically an enormous waste of my time, where we do ridiculous activities so that high school can have more control over our lives, and what we learn, and how we do things. Translation: I hate that they want me to use a stupid planner with the school handbook inside of it. Student Success Seminar (Or whatever it's called)? NO.

Lunch: Is only twenty-ish minutes, and I don't really have any friends, that's fine. OH, and on top of that, it's at 10:40 in the morning. Not at all right. No one is hungry for lunch at an hour that is still classified as the morning.

Period 3. Chemistry: So, I'm dropping chemistry, hopefully, and switching to anatomy. Science and math are my two worst classes, and I need to focus on them one at a time. So hopefully, my schedule will iron out, so that I can devote my attention to Algebra Two.

Period 4. Algebra 2: Another teacher with a monotone. However, he has an interesting sense of humor, and a dog. Hopefully I'll actually understand math this year.

B Days:

Period 1. Special Chorus: 83 MINUTES OF CHORUS. YES. MY LIFE IS COMPLETE.

Period 2. Honors English 3: Seems like a pretty good class. Lots of reading. I'll post the list later. I'm incredibly excited, and I adore my teacher.

Period 3. Gym: 83 minutes of gym. Please, do me a favor, and break both of my legs. Please.

Flex: Okay, on B Days, I have to read. I love reading. However, when forced to read, I never can concentrate. I just can't see this going well.

Lunch: I don't know who's in my B Day lunch yet, but I'll give a full report when I know.

Study Hall: Ohhh, so THIS is when I can do my homework.

All in all, I already hate school (again).