Okay, sorry I've been neglecting my little journal on the side...cause I know so many people were deathly disappointed that I haven't been posting.

But I've either not had time, or haven't been particularly mad at anyone, or just haven't bothered to update here that I couldn't post on my 'real' journal.

Meh. Whatever.

So, since I have an aversion to doing homework, I'll go on a ( rant: )

Anyway...I can't promise that this whole posting thing will become regular. I have the attention span of a goldfish on crack.

Current Mood: annoyed

Every human being has within them an absolutely devestating power; the ability to disappoint. Everyone we care for, everyone we hate, everyone who is of little orless than no importance in our lives...if we wanteed to, we could destroy them all. Not physically, but with our thoughts. Our thoughts, those traterous infections that are with us no matter how we feel or wish we felt. They are perfectly innocent inside our heads; we can easily ignore them, and it is impossible to beel guilty for them; they don't really exist. Oh, but if our thoughts are found out, how much harm we could inflict. Insults that were never meant to insult, half-supressed accusations finally confronting the wrong person; we could all devistate anyone we come into contact with, with the most paltry of judgements, we could drive a person to mental suicide. Not just thoughts; potential actions. We are capable of so much, we keep so many secrets; its a wonder we don't all explode from the energy of so much potential harm and disillusionment.

Yet I feel worse for the thinker of thoughts, for at least those wronged have the cauterizing comfort of righteous hurt. The thinker meanwhile festers, is fried and digested by their own guilt. Guilt, the consuming substance that in an instant solidizes our heart as it is simultaneously gulped down into the depths of our dwelling stomach. She has to keep this shadow, this torment that feeds on her from the inside.

Is this selfish? Of course.

Current Mood: crushed

I don't want to revise my English paper. (I hate revisions. Because I'm a filthy hypocrite who thinks her writing is perfect.) So I'll post something again.

When you're displaced, you find yourself with a lot of time on your hands, and no where to go to rest. We're getting our floors redone, meaning that we can't stay in our house, but we have to stay at a hotel in the next town. I like hotels, and it's been kind of fun to pretend that we're on vacation. But you can't ever feel comfortable, because you're a guest. Also, in the mornings I have to dress for school, and it is so humiliating to have your mom and sister watch you go through an elaborate ritual of picking the right shirt and silently urge you to hurry the hell up or we'll be late. Then, in the afternoons, I go to the library, which I love, but which gets old when it starts to get dark out.

Only one more week.

Fuck.

I hate so much that I rely on my two best friends. They hurt me so often.

And the thing is, I can never blame them. It's sort of just who they are: spoiled rotten and self-obsessed. So often I can't even speak up, because they don't care, and will tell me so in as many words.

But I need them. I feel like I need their approval. I look up to them so much, and they're such a huge part of my life.

I know myself to be an independant person. So then WHY THE HELL am I so crushed when they get mad at me?

And why the hell is it so fucking hard to be mad at them?

When I get like this I just want to not have friends for a while. To just go off and be by myself, just spend the day alone. Just be alone, not have to be pleasant or kind to anyone in particular, but just be there. The best I can do is to try to avoid people at school.

Socializing is such bullshit. Friends are just too much of a bother.

Haha. I promised that I'd never be one of those angst-ridden journalists who post about how their lives are so miserable and how the world hates them. If this comes across as that to anyone who couldn't give less of a shit, apologies. I know how pathetic this sounds.

Current Mood: pissed off
Current Music: Towers of London

How do you know when you're flirting with someone?

I behave the same way with my girl friends as I do with my freshmen guys I flirt with. So then, what's the difference? Am I flirting? Or just having fun? Or both?

Argh...

Current Mood: complacent
Current Music: The Saints Are Coming

I've never really been the angsty teen who craves independence and hates their parents. I've always been a good kid, so whatever independence I want is usually there for the asking.

But I do crave the independence of not having to explain myself.

Today I was supposed to be picked up from Piano, and I had to explain that I'd rather get coffee and do homework in town, outside. It wasn't a big deal, but it was so much less...spontaneous. I had to tell her that I wanted to go do my own thing, even though it wasn't really a coherant desire.

I'm going to live in a city. Cities are themselves random, half-thought out impulses.

Every now and then, I'll catch myself in a mirror, usually humming to myself. I'll have to stare at that face reflected, and I'll be completely sobered.

How the hell did I end up being me?

I am my name. Who I am is what it says on the birth certificate. No one else. That's the life, the personality I was born into. But sometimes I feel like I don't know exactly who I am.

What is this person I inhabit?

Current Music: The Libertines

I'm starting to get sort of uncomfortable when they hit on me.

I know they mean it jokingly, not to be hurtful or anything. And I guess I can't complain; I usually encourage it, making jokes, being comfortable with it. I know it's not really a big deal.

But still.

Knowing that they're constantly thinking about my body like that. And--maybe worse--not knowing what they're keeping to themselves. Having to wonder.

I suppose I'm a very sexual person, in that I think about it almost constantly. Totally comfortable talking about it. But that's so much more immediate, more real.

Sort of scary.

And why now, so all of a sudden?

Current Mood: angry

Being in a show is the best way to study time.

You wait and wait backstage for the show to start, for events to roll on. Then the realizaton meets you; you think these thoughts in this very moment.

Time drops its hands by its sides and waits; you can see everything, this moment when you wait, the moment when you snuck quietly backstage, the moment about to come when you march into the light, waving your arms madly. They line up in single and multiple file.

And then you realize that the next song is the last one. The last time you will ever be in this performance, that this experiance, these people will never be brought together like this ever again. It has been your life for a month, and now you have only a tshirt and some pictures to show for it.

You are told; cherish this emotion. Remember this. It won't last. It will go on forever.

And whatever you do, don't lose sight of this, this feeling of enternal split-seconds. They are what your life will be made of.

Current Mood: contemplative

I don't want to be mad tonight. It's supposed to be fun and happy, and I don't want to ruin it.
She was rude and inconsiderate, and it crushed me even though it wasn't to me.
But Tonight is too important. I can't let it be ruined. Staying mad isn't worth enough.