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Today was a snow day, and an uneventful one at that. Figuring that we wouldn't be given any reason to cancel and/or delay school tomorrow, I've gone without a shower and feel rather wretched, but I am home all the same which is a reason in itself to be grateful.
I almost feel like I've changed sometimes, and I suppose... that I have. It's strange though, not feeling the need to release all those strong feelings; the self-loathing, the doubt, the paranoia. The hatred.
I almost miss it. I almost wish that I could hate my situation again.
School today was cancelled very early last night, at about 7PM. I was sure we were going to go today - there was really nothing happening. But then I realized that the tiny dashing noises outside were the sounds of ice falling from the sky.
Oh, we're out of school. No longer surprised, harhar.
I am getting to the point where I am seriously, genuinely considering bailing on TM. Trying to sell the riches I've gained for something more tangible... because most of the time I question what it's doing for me. Weakening morale? Making me miserable? Making me see... him?
Chinese New Year today. It's your day, hah.
At lunch they were serving a commemorative teriyaki bowl (which is horrible), and I saw the dean of students, Norelle, and a secretary, making their way through the lunch room. The way she was walking - calmly, with a steady, swinging strut - seemed almost defiant.
I had already thrown out my mostly uneaten lunch and I longed to know what was going on, so I got up to go to the library, following them into the hall.
Norelle was standing there, looking defeated but standing tall. They took the books from her locker.
The school is really in an uproar over what Norelle did. At the end of the day, the very end, sometime halfway through eighth period, Norelle decided to start ratting other people out.
There were a lot of them - friends who suggested people as a joke, lunch tables where she sat, entire Chem classes - and two of them were Ashley and Autumn.
Ashley did nothing, that I know.
Autumn was Norelle's best friend. Was.
I can't believe Norelle sunk that low. I can't believe she tried to drag people down with her.
I thought she was better than that.
I wonder what kind of person I'm attracted to, really.
I supposedly like Asians only, but that withstanding, I really don't have much choice at the moment to look at. (Considering falling for anyone is out. Of. The. Question.)
I think I see a pattern in me liking dark hair, black if possible, and for them to be tall and thin, almost lanky. It doesn't sound very attractive on paper, I admit. I never took pride in my taste.
It's a lie to say that looks don't matter, but I think I require them to be intelligent. Stupid is unattractive.
I went grocery shopping with my mom today and we ended up carting home at $142 in junk food and innecessities. When I walked inside with bags in my hands, there was Ashley Kelly in my kitchen, making something in the toaster for herself. "You're coming with me to the basketball game," she announced.
Now, I was not happy about that. I hadn't had a shower that day. I was running on about two hours of sleep.
But I ended up going, and I wish I didn't. We sat on the bleachers, silent, and at length, I relished leaving alone.
I can't exactly remember what day is was over the weekend, but one night I had a dream about Mike Principe.
I remember being attracted to him a few months ago, but I stifled it because I was with Lio. Well, not surprisingly, the attraction has resurfaced.
I don't remember what I dreamed exactly, but I remember feeling at peace in it. He would sit near me, and we would talk in a silent kind of way, conversing with no words as one does in a dream.
It felt... wonderful... but I won't subject myself to falling again. Not anymore.
I am sometimes amazed with how unfailingly feelings waver. In one day, I can look in the same mirror at the same self many times, and think different things in every instance.
Sometimes I am repulsed. I get that feeling in my stomach - that hopeless, sickening dropping - and I resign myself to the fact that I will never get anywhere on looks.
Other times, I look and I see my eyes shine. My neck is thin, and my collarbones are defined. I have dark skin relative to the white people around me. The crease over my left eye.
One reason I don't like to talk to Lio anymore is because half of the things he told me were lies. And every time I speak to him, trying to be that new person I had promised myself that I would be, there is always something he says that reveals more filth underneath.
My box never got lost in the mail. He received it and hid it somewhere so Basa wouldn't see it while he was visiting. Meanwhile, Lio lied to me again, saying it never arrived.
Maybe I should just stop asking questions so I don't hear anymore answers.
I find it really sad to listen to Jon talking to Erica. Jon is such a sweet guy. He really seems like one of those good boyfriends who texts you first and tells you how much he loves you without being prompted.
She seems mean. Back when he would spend all of sixth period hanging on her, I asked myself when they'd get together.
He seemed like the player, but it was her. It was heartbreaking to hear him say, "I would've stopped for you."
And even moreso for her to reply with a certain satisfaction, "You're not my boyfriend."
Last night, I put on a maroon hat and my striped gloves, put my earbuds in, and took Cocoa for a walk in the cold. I have to say, even though I ended up getting home with cold feet and fingers, I just... I don't know.
I heard, "So I gave you my all just to notice you were gone... And countless weeks have passed, but I still can't let you go. But I gave you my all, just to notice you were gone; you left me broken without a care for me at all."
I cried over him again.
I don't even know what to write about. I entered my one entry in the wrong date, and I just realized that. x_x I did all the sleeping Friday afternoon into Saturday morning, and although I didn't get dressed fairly late into the day, I felt so refreshed. It feels nice to wake up in the morning, to be awake when it's quiet and calm. Of course, my sister and her friends were there and soon put an end to the "quiet" and "calm" part, but it was nice all the same.
It makes me want to sleep like that.
Yesterday afternoon shortly after I got home, maybe around 5PM or so, I went upstairs and lay in my bed. I was playing on my DS, Mario and Luigi: Superstar Saga. Such an old game.
Anyway, I ended up giving in to drowsiness and fell asleep. I woke up around nine and forced myself to keep sleeping until 8 AM.
Funny, though, how I spent about fifteen hours sleeping. It was glorious.
I've found that I go upstairs when I'm bored; and when I have nothing to do, I start to think... and that's when the memories start coming back.
Yesterday, I got talking to Lio again. Somehow, I must say that I relished hearing him say he was worried; saying, "Talk to me, please."
It's funny how he needs to hear from me now.
Anyway, I'm kind of annoyed with how he's been behaving; like he's dealing with an angry child. Like he needs to censor the way he talks and acts (and, I suppose, he does). He saw what I wrote on the tradesite but it took some doing for him to tell me.
They might start an open relationship.
...I never knew him.
Last night I started my homework very late again. I had a chem review to complete (well, start.), and I neglected to realize that it was thirty two questions long.
I ended up finishing it, finally, at 2AM, and that's around the time where I fell into bed... Now? Exhausted...
I had a dream the other night that mom died. I couldn't discern between dream and reality. I woke up crying, asking myself, "Why did she have to die? I wish she were still here..."
And then I realized she's still here.
And I love her more than anything. Forever.
I sometimes forget how wonderful something as simple as waking up a little earlier than usual to put makeup on feels.
I love how I can see my eyelashes flair; my blush glow; my lips sparkle. My face is a canvas that has gone awry, and I use an ephemeral paint to make it beautiful again, at least for a while. And even if no one else will ever be close enough to see it, I have.
To slowly make myself radiant while staring through myself in glass... sometimes I take it for granted. It's always enough to brighten days.
At the moment, I've resigned myself to use the money that I make working at the jail on clothing. To better myself. I kind of want to be able to shape myself into someone new. I think clothes would help me feel like that - or maybe I am just disillusioned again.
Either way, I've fallen in love with Koren / Japanese / Chinese fashion. The baggy, flat, top-heavy shirts and the leggings... if only I had the body to pull those things off! We have a treadmill now... I could start working for spring...
But where would I wear them anyway?
I haven't had a bad day in a long while, but man. Today was a bad day. The only good thing I can think of is scoring a 106% on my Chem test.
Aside from that, I bombed my Trigonometry test, bombed my Geometry test. I don't even know how I'll be able to get my grades up in those classes. The marking period ends on the 25th of March.
I spilled spaghetti on myself at lunch. In slow motion; the noodles shifting, off the plate, falling. Splat. I got huge office pants.
I... really just want to go home.
I feel like I really stifled myself with the situation, really pushed (too?) hard at myself to make a smooth transition. It was what I wanted, but there are dents, and fraying cracks that I can definitely feel, from trying to make myself malleable.
I tried, with a hammer, to pound myself thin. I tried to sit straighter, smile wider. I tried, and am trying, to be okay. I tried to keep reaching, to keep being the reacher. I tried to grow and expand, to not be afraid.
But in the end, I was brittle. An ionic compound that cracked.
I have to stop trying to update my emotional status to anyone who unknowingly lends me an ear.
No one cares how you're feeling. No one cares that he cheated or who he's with or if he's okay or if you're okay. No one cares if you have a broken heart. No one wants to know if you miss him or cares to find out if he misses you. Because, really, everyone has their own problems.
...What do I expect them to say?
I feel like trusting people is a waste. Forgoing cliches, you'll only hurtdisappointbetray me in the end.
Sometimes I am just really repulsed by my sister. She is one of those chaotic girls you hear about in Auntie Sparknotes letters; one who is your friend for a day and your worst enemy the next.
She finds the pettiest reasons to disown her friends, like she simply finds them because she needs them. She's fought with R, someone I thought she was worlds close to. Tonight I heard her yelling at M. "I don't care, M!" she would scream over the phone. "I think you're just being so stupid! ...No, stop talking! You're just so freaking stupid!"
I managed to curl my hair with my straightening iron yesterday. It looked nice, though it terrified me to see my hair steam and notice how much drier it felt when I touched it afterward.
I find lately I'm very focused on appearance. I want to look beautiful. Where one person may write off a feature as "something I was born with, something unchangeable," or a day where, "it can't be helped," I feel defeated. I want perfection.
More than anything, I just want to be untouchable. I never want to be weak for anyone ever again. I can't anymore.
It's draining to stay up late. I remember being awake at eleven was the unholiest hour, but now, I typically hit the pillow at around two in the morning. That's approximately five hours of sleep per night, and I simply can't go on like this.
I feel tired all the time. I feel unmotivated to do pretty much anything, and at the end of a school day, all I want to do is rest my tired bones. I slack on my assignments and lean even more heavily on tomorrow, hoping it will be better; be brighter.
I need a change.
In my opinion, one of the most terrifying, paralyzing, crushing things is to have confidence in something.
I think I've always been afraid of being left alone; of being the only one to stay standing for something. Of being ridiculed?
This has led to me distrust everything, become a fair-weather believer. Faith was never something I was good at. I'm not strong enough to trust in God. I don't trust my friends.
I believed in my boyfriend more than anything once. He was ultimately the one to damage me more than anyone could.
It's easier to believe in nothing.
I find that my physical appearance interferes a lot with things that I want to do. If I feel ugly, I am afraid to go anywhere for fear of how others will perceive me. When my skin is oily or my hair feels out of place, I can't help but want to stay home. I don't want to go outside or be around people.
I just want to stay home, look forward until another tomorrow where I can hope I look better. Because looks really mean a lot to me. Looks... really... are something I wish for, depend on. Absolutely.
Today was the Penguins game at the Sun arena. I have to admit that I went there pessimistically, sure that I would be bored to death the entire time.
Unexpectedly, though, it was actually a lot of fun. I was always in tune to excitement - predisposed to taking on the mood of a crowd or event. It was hard not to have fun.
I've always liked crowds, too, but there was this tall boy there. I can see in my mind him standing with his glasses and houndstooth peacoat; frozen perfection.
"He looked at you every time you looked away."
I got my hair cut yesterday, and let me tell you - it is the most horrible haircut I have ever had in my entire life.
I look like a delinquent, and I feel like one, too. My hair is rounded at the top due to how she layered it, and she cut my bangs wayyyy too short. (Actually, they were my fault. Automatically answering, "Uh, yeah," to any questions she asks me is bad, especially if it is, "Do you want your bangs cut above your eyebrows?")
I can't wait for it to grow back. I cried in church; fuuuuuuuuu...
February is already over - isn't that frightening?
Time is ticking away,
slipping so quickly from my fingers. Always,
like sand in an hourglass,
I feel I am
or for me
or for something bigger than
you can I could have ever been.
I feel I am
the moments of my life
that are supposed to define me
when I have nothing else left.
These memories are tainted
I am never making the best of what I am given.
I've become too afraid.
I've become too familiar with myself
and can never stop dreaming of perfection.
Why do I wait?
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