I hate the way that the only time you feel this many things at once and realize that you're feeling them is when you're sad.
Good thing I have to take the PSATs in the morning.
To put it simply, this sucks.

I just applied for a job at Panera Bread.
Also, my Halloween costume is a flapper.

That's all.

It's 2:11 AM. I wish there was some way that when you couldn't sleep, someone else wouldn't be able to sleep with you. But unfortunately, the earth doesn't look out for you in this way. I watched Revolutionary Road twice, and finished two books. After this, I'll probably research for an English paper.
Sometimes, I think that if we slowed down enough, we could hear the Earth breathe. I swear, every once in a while, I can feel it turning. I know it's probably my imagination, but if you close your eyes, and sit very still, you can feel it. It's not some profound feeling. It's not magical, nor does it spark some sort of epiphany. But it's nice.
I wish there were a way to check if your head were properly screwed on straight. Sometimes I doubt mine is. I have these irrational fears. I find myself running down dark hallways at night, afraid of what could be chasing me, or flicking on the lights as fast as possible, with my heart pounding. I know it's silly. I have nothing to be afraid of. I just can't help that feeling, though.
Another thing I find interesting is the concept of the moon. We are all under the same one. Some of us stare at it; some of us barely even notice it. But everyone's moments where they see it all happen under the same moon. I sort of wish it could talk, and it could tell us some of the stories of what it's witnessed. I think the moon would be a fabulous person. Very calm, and wise, and full of life at the same time.

I feel as though my head will explode into eight hundred thousand tiny pieces if I hear one more syllable of yours. Tired tired tired. I'm frustrated, and you just plain suck sometimes.

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).

I'm a little disappointed in the fact that I have absolutely nothing to say for myself.

Babysitting the whole gang tonight. Well, all the girls anyway. I need to start making plans, because summer's almost over. I still need to have a summer experience. At home, that is.

I've been taken over and knocked down by the feeling of missing everyone. Especially my NSLC-ers. :[

I've been thinking a lot about the future, in terms of now. Today, for example, I was laying on my bed and I was thinking about things that are currently bothering me, and I couldn't help but wonder, am I even going to remember any of this, or any of these people in ten years? At a glance, ten years seems like a shorter amount of time than it is. It seems like I'll be the same person I am right now. However, ten years ago, I was six years old, and I had a Barbie ballerina backpack. Now, I'm sixteen, and I'm not even sure I own a backpack that isn't broken (Note: I looked. I have two backpacks that aren't broken.). I always find myself wondering who I'll still be talking to in the future, and what days I'll remember, and which one's I'll completely forget. Like, I can hardly tell you half of what happened on Tuesday of last week. But forgetting any of this scares me a little, because this is who I am right now. I suppose change is inevitable. Time will pass whether I want it to or not. I frequently discuss this here, but I can't seem to wrap my mind around the fact that things aren't going to be this way forever. But that's all part of the experience, I guess.

So, my sixteenth birthday party is today. I have a bunch of things to do, no idea where to start, and no couch in the party room. I may cry.

Jai Ho is my guilty pleasure. And Britney Spears tunes :]

I'm really tired of ridiculous teenage girls, who don't see that every fault they find in the world can be found in themselves. I'm cleaning out all of my clutter, getting rid of the tiny security blankets I've kept around for so long. Maybe it seems cold to cut someone out of your life the way I plan on doing with some people. But sometimes, it's necessary.

QuickPost

Today, we're going to a Teacher book fair. I'm hoping it's not all like, education books. But either way, I love books. I love the smell of them, the paper and ink. I just all around love books. I wish I could bottle it, and give it to all of those people out there who don't like to read.

Sorry, I was dorking out hard.

RIP John Hughes.