What part of 'I haven't had an abortion' are you not getting?
It's a hard question, cos there's so many ways to define love. But I guess it's like when there's just this one amazing person who means the world to you, who you'd find it almost impossible to live without. They're that one person who you would do anything for and they would do anything for you. They are where you feel safe. They are where you feel wanted. They are where you want to be. And it doesn't matter what you're doing, everything is just instantly better because they are there.And being with them, it's like nothing can hurt you too badly, because he'll just wipe your tears and find some way to cheer you up. Somehow, they're just... The most perfect person in your life. You know? Someone who you wouldn't change a thing about, even though they will undoubtably have flaws. Someone who can completely disagree with your beliefs but still support you in them anyway. Someone who may not share the same values, but is willing to uphold them anyway because it's what you want. Someone who would do anything to see you happy. Love just... is.
Dedicated to Christie.
The girl sat on her bed, mirror in hand, her fingers running over the bags beneath her eyes, over the pimples on her nose, through the tangles in her thin scraggly hair.
Ugly. Worthless. Scum.
She glared at her stomach and poked at her thighs. Disgusted. She glanced up, just in time to see the red bubble appear above the message icon on her facebook page. '...I hope it's him...'
It wasn't who she wanted. It wasn't who she expected. It wasn't what she wanted. It wasn't what she expected.
But it was what she needed.
13 simple words from a beautiful woman of God.
'God seems to be telling me to tell you He thinks you're beautiful.'
sometimes i wonder where i stand with you. would you support me if i needed it? would you be there for me? or would you do what you did before... leave me for someone more interesting...? honestly i dont know sometimes........... i wish i could say without doubt that i could count on you.. but these days i just dont know that i can...
-sigh- i wish he'd reply :(
Herro Kyrie! You're rather awesome too :D
She has nice hair
Though her skin is fair.
She enjoys watching Veronica Mars
And she likes to drive in cars.
She once was elevEN
And now she loves Ben.
She can read the time from a clock
And she really loves.... I mean wut??
i am so over this right now. im over studying when i'm going to fail anyway. im over working all weekend and having no time for study. im over coming home exhausted and dehydrated and just passing out for a few hours. im over missing him and im definitely over not seeing him... im over smiling when i feel like shit. and im over feeling like shit for stupid pathetic reasons. im over being tired and im over being sick. im over not being able to sleep no matter how tired i am. and im over trying to sleep without him. im over you being so hot and cold. im over being your friend when you want something or when no one else is willing to listen. and im over the way you treat everyone around you like shit. im over this term already and im over how much work i have to do before it's over. im over waiting for camp and im over wishing you were here...
everytime things sort themselves out, they start to fall apart again...
and everytime one thing goews wrong, everything goes wrong...
I want to tell him.
If you keep this up any longer I probably will.
This is so fucking unfair.
He is going to be so hurt.
But no, you just keep fucking well leading him on.
Get the fuck over yourself.
You don't deserve him.
right now i feel lik slapping you. hard. really hard.
god knows you deserve it.
the memories i hope will never fade...
So... I was talking to Lauren today during our free. And we were talking about how much everything has changed in a year. And yet at the same time it feels like not much has changed.
A year ago, we were fighting. Pretty massively. We simply were not talking anymore. That is how bad it had all gotten. To the extent where any words exchanged between us where forcibly cold and mean sounding, even if it was something as simple as 'could you pass the sauce?' We made up on Easter Sunday night. I was relieved... I'd missed you.
A year ago, we were broken up. Or maybe we were just getting back together. Honestly I cannot remember. Maybe we'd just gotten back together. Either way... With all the crap that has gone on in my life, that was still one of the top five most devastating things ever to happen to me. All I can say is that I don't know how I would have gotten through the past year without you...
A year ago, you were being flamed. Pretty seriously. It was quite devastating I'm sure. But I suppose you're an example of a person who takes the criticism of others and uses it for personal growth. You're a much happier, better person these days (which is not to say that you werent then, just better now). I'm glad. :D
A year ago, I hated you. Honestly, if I were capable of murdering someone I would have killed you in your sleep. Ok, so maybe I wouldn't have. But I'm pretty serious. I hated you. These days, amazingly, it's not so bad. We actually almost get along most of the time. :O
A year ago... A year ago they were all still here. All those people we've lost in the past year. A year ago we still spoke to each other. A year ago, they were in love. A year ago, you were happy. A year ago, he was one of the most important people in my life. A year ago, it mattered what he had said before he was gone...
A year ago.
We're another year older, a little bit wiser, a little bit stronger than a year ago today...
...another year gone by, all my tears had run dry, life seemed so unkind... a year ago today...
So I suppose I should apologise to everyone. I've kinda been over grumpy lately, taking things out on some of you who don't deserve it. And it hasn't been your fault.
My week has been a crazy mix of accusations, threats and bitching. All of which has basically lead to me being a moody bitch.
But I don't know, I suppose it's kinda hard not to get upset about rumours that you're pregnant, people wishing you were dead, and people informing you that eveyone hates you.
But I\m trying to brush it off now, it doesn't really matter that much. Those who know me know who I am... And seem to like it.
I've been so amazed at the support I've recieved from everyone too. Even people I hardly talk to have emailed me or spoken to me and offered their support and told me that they think I'm a lovely person. So many people have offered to be there for me if I need it.
It's also really helped me discover who some of my truest friends are. You know? Those people who've let me rant at them or cry on them or just spaz at them. And those who have posted massive rants in my defence (and of course those who posted small rants too :D). Those who have just told me they love me and I shouldn't listen to the haters.
But you know what's been funny? Charming's friends... Who I hardly kow at all. Like three of whom I've met before, and the rest I haven't. And the way they have all jumped to my defense too. It surprises me how just chatting to someone on facebook, or formspring, or whatever... Even just hearing me mentioned by him (seeing as I suppose that's why they added me in the first place)... They are willing to give me the benefit of the doubt and say that I seem like a good person to them.
I think its pretty cool. :D
So... I guess I've kinda been neglecting my blog recently. Before I lost my internet, blogger used to be one of the first five sites I'd open when I log onto the computer. These days, I rarely even think of it. I should get back in the habit of blogging.
Anyway... So I was watching the Biggest Loser tonight... And one of the girls, who is about a year older than me said something that really struck a core with me... She said that she'd kind of been a bit weighty since she was younger. And her parents were always on her case. But that she was normally a reasonably good girl. She just reminded me of me a bit.
Mostly in the sense of how she said that she didn't really rebel. Her weight was her rebelion. Like she didn't drink. She didn't do drugs. She didn't have sex. She ate. And everytime she ended up upset she'd just eat something. Something sugary and gross and awful for her.
And it made me realise, I'm the same. They give me shit. And so I go, and in spite of them eat something awful for me.
And I mean really, in the long run... it's me I'm hurting. It's my life I'm cutting short. It's me that I'm killing.
It kind of made me realise that instead of pretty much caving to what they say... Maybe I should be making a change in spite of them. Maybe instead I should be proving that I am better than what they say.
But maybe I'm not.......
So I've decided to take an idea from Ben over at Closer To The Heart with his most recent post, The Life Game. The general idea is to write a wikipedia style biography for yourself using the various video games you've played. It's just supposed to be a bit of fun. Anyway, here goes nothing.
Leisha was eight when she first began solving mysteries. Sensing her immense skill and ability she was hired for her detective work at a remote beachside hotel [Detective Barbie 2].
She then grew up a little and decided to help the professor solve some random crime she can't remember a thing about anymore [Rugrats All Growed Up].
Leisha then took a short break from her detective work to enter a horse riding competition however she found herself on the lookout for Golden Horseshoes in order to save the ranch [Saddle Club Game].
After this "break", Leisha was recruited to help Theressa find her missing fashions after they were stolen from a New York fashion show. this adventure took her to Paris, Tokyo and Egypt [Secret Agent Barbie].
Leisha then retired from the detective life to run a chain of very successful Cruiseliners [Cruiseship Tycoon] and Theme Parks [Roller Coaster Tycoon 2+3].
So there we go. My life in the lame arse video games I've played.
I am looking forward to the end of this year. Seriously, I cannot do it.
I have sat here attempting to read this stupid book (Fly Away Peter just in case you are interested) for the last 2 and a half freaking hours. But it is like something in my brain is going 'you cannot do this. Just give up now. What is the point in trying when you know you are going to fail anyway?'
But another part of me wants to succeed... And wants to do well. Just... Not with this book. -cries-
it happened again...
i can't believe it happened again....
When you are a child, you think you are invincible. You honestly
believe that nothing bad could ever happen to you, that you are – and
always will be – safe. The only problem with this childlike innocence
is that sometimes a child needs to learn that they are not invincible,
that they truly can be harmed.
When you are a child you do not really understand Death. In my mind, I
suppose Death only came to visit extremely old people. Death wasn't
interested in the young. Suffering didn't happen until you're grown,
and old. I suppose I learnt my lesson.
I remember that day as well as if it were yesterday. I remember the
instant freeze as I got the phone call. The shiver that went down my
back and the way the goose bumps covered my skin. The immediate
knowledge that something was wrong before I'd even picked up the
phone. I remember being unable to stop shaking, despite the warmth of
the spring day. I stuttered every word I spoke, and caught only very
few words being spoken to me. 'Hospital... Not much time... Possibly
fatal...' And then she said his name. I remember whispering his name
after I hung up. His name left a sickening taste in my mouth – a warm,
sticky sensation that slid down my throat like blood slides over skin.
Even now when I say his name, I feel the same sting of pain stabbing
away in my stomach.
Until that day I was a mere child. Pain was yet to mark my life. I had
not experienced the harshness, and pain of a world grown cold.
For days following I surrounded myself with safety. My father's baggy,
warm jumper that came to just above my knees. The scarf he'd given to
me so long ago. The much loved, one-eared, pink teddy bear that my
mother had made for me when I was only little. Warm, fluffy ugg boots
that reminded me of the peace I always feel in winter when the rain
pours down outside and the whole world is cold and beautiful. I felt
cold all the time.
When I visited him, I didn't know what to say. No one would tell me
what had happened, why he was there. The only reassurance anyone would
give me was that he would wake up and everything would be alright
again. But that wasn't enough for me. Day in and day out I watched as
he lay there, machines monitoring his vitals. Nothing ever changed and
no one ever gave me any answers.
It was a nurse who accidently mentioned it. The truth that everyone
had been trying to avoid. He'd done this himself. He hadn't wanted to
wake up, so maybe he never would. Only time could tell...
Before that day I'd never really understood depression. That poisonous
blackness that invades a person's life, takes over every part of their
being. I was young, naive, innocent, and sheltered. My world had been
carefully structured in order to protect me from the pain of the
world. I wasn't supposed to understand depression. But that day I
think I truly began to understand. In my mind I pictured it as a
brilliant red rose, slowly but surely being sucked of life. The veins
throughout it turning black as the rose died, until only the tips were
left red. The stem withered, the leaves crushed. All hope gone... He
must have felt like he had no other option.
That day, I cried like I never had before. I felt pain unlike any
otherwise experienced. I felt grief for maybe the first time in my
life. When the lines on the machines went flat, the machines beeping
out their emergency call, their final goodbye, I learnt that Death
smells sweet.
Some days I wake up to find that fragrance filling the air. It's that
sickly sweet smell that I still remember all of these years later...
The smell of honey, and cherry blossoms, and Death. The same fragrance
that I remember from that day. I used to think it meant he had visited
me as I slept.
