5 Years Time

It's time to get sappy again.

So if you prefer your Friday nights to be way awesomer than the proceedings,

I suggest you escort yourself to some other web address.

Well.

How sappy to get?

And where to begin?

(I'd say, really sappy...?)

It's ridiculous how much I like you, sir.

It's silly how I think of you,

And how I hope, deep in my naive teenage heart, that you think about me too.

But it's ok if you don't, I completely understand. I really do.

I love when you muss up your hair when you're thinking

And then you'll do that exasperated hands-covering-your-face thing

Before you try to start a sentence three different ways.

It's so cute I could die.

And you poke fun at how OCD I am,

And you agree that Shakespeare wasn't all that awesome.

And "Heroin" is your favorite Velvet Underground song.

I've always wondered what other songs by them you like,

Do you like Lou Reed or Nico better?

Do you find "Venus in Furs" to be crazy-awesome?

Do you like "Pale Blue Eyes"?

And were you lying to me when you said you were reading something and your mind erred to me, and how I should read it, too?

(My own, over-romanticized language is used here, of course.)

The fact that you're musically inclined also makes me die a little bit, too.

And sometimes I forget you are,

And then I'll remember and it's just this wave of "Wow, he's even cooler than I thought."

And I really, really hope that who you're with

Finds you as lovely as I do,

And I hope they love you a lot,

Because really, they should.

You're sort of clumsy and gawky and awkward,

And you've got a laugh that's a mite bit peculiar.

(But so do I, so it's ok... you've heard one of my deranged giggle-fits before.)

But seriously,

When you're quiet and intent on something,

And you speak in that quiet voice you have,

That I've mentioned before, but alas,

It just kills me.

("Shot through the heart, and you're too late!" The moment begged for Bon Jovi.)

It takes a lot of composure to keep from just sort of staring at you for a prolonged period of time.

But I still catch myself doing that sometimes.

Why, oh why, why

Does life have to work like it does?

If I could have my way,

You'd like me, too.

And then we'd be an "us",

And things would be marvelous.

In my mind,

I like to romanticize "us".

I also like to pretend you wear plaid.

But that's weird,

Now isn't it?

Ok.

This post has gone on long enough.

If you're reading this,

Congratulations,

You have survived another rant from the naive and "love-ravaged" mind of this teenager.

If I could reward you for making it this far,

I would.

Goodnight, adieu!!

I realized, I hope nobody knows you well enough to deduce that I'm talking about you.

Yikes...

If I Needed Someone

Let me start with the events of the previous nights,

I went a hockey game with a friends called Lily.

It was wickedly rad.

For more reasons than I can describe, really.

It was just awesome.

Our team won, in an overtime shoot-out.

The tension during that time was righteously intense.

And I felt like a sports nerd,

Because I like hockey,

And it's probably the one sport I can get super excited about.

It. Was. Epic.

But I see now why it was also bad.

I am absolutely beat.

I feel as though I was on an all-night bender.

Which isn't entirely false, but isn't entirely true, either.

Six hours might seem like plenty of sleep.

But it isn't for someone who usually gets nine.

I'm very, very sleepy.

And I have a very bad headache.

This part isn't so awesome.

I'm not sure why I decided to blog,

I currently just sound like I'm bragging and then complaining.

Which I actually am doing.

Ick.

I'm just way too tired to come up with something good to say here.

Wait, lies!

I noticed last night,

that people never stop to notice now...

They always assume that the stars and the flowers and the time

Will all be there tomorrow,

Sort of waiting for them.

But they never are.

And you must notice things now,

For what they are.

You must pause and take in the best things in life while they are still here,

Still in the now.

Which somehow reminded me of this lovely quote by someone I fail to remember:

"Live each season as it passes."

I love it.

Oh.

There's also bad news here.

I obsess about a guy.

My mother knows I obsess about a guy.

She knows who he is.

She should not know either of these things.

As:

A) I do not converse with her these matters.

B) I do not converse with others on these matters within earshot of my mother.

C) She better not read this blog.

And now on to rant about him as I do.

Somehow this is currently ironic

How I say she can't know,

And then continue to talk about him.

The irony could just be my sleepiness though.

Alas,

Yesterday (As most of this post pertains to yesterday)

He talked to me in this quiet voice

That it took me a long time to realize he had.

And it's this very sincere and quiet, thoughtful (?) voice

That seriously makes me melt a little bit.

And that's bad.

But it's also so lovely,

Because he just sounds so cute and lovely.

And when he says that he doing something else and was thinking about (in a sort of roundabout way, I guess) me,

I sort of die a little bit.

Even though it's not because he likes me that.

It still makes me want to grin like the idiot that I am.

Enough for now.

Adieu,

TGIF, too.

Another Sunny Day

It's anything but, I guess.

Anything but another sunny day.

Somehow, this big wave of overwhelming

Just crashed down on me.

It was a rogue wave

The kind you never see coming,

Until it's just way too late.

I have so much to do,

So much that I don't want to do.

All of these tests and things to remember, and it's just

A little bit too much.

It's like I'm paying for the lack of homework I've had in the past few days.

Karma just barfed on me.

I swear to you.

I have this feeling of total uselessness,

Sleepiness,

And ridiculousity.

Yeah, that' right, "ridiculousity" is so a word...

And I'm feeling it right now.

Homework

And essays

And tests

Career choices

Future choices.

Every time careers are mentioned,

Or I'm forced to think of them,

I become almost frantic.

Overcome by this claustrophobic feeling that makes my palms sweat and

My head swim.

Literally, I feel as though

I am being forced to decide my life's path

Now.

And that's too much.

I don't know where to turn.

Can't just rant about this to my friends,

Or my parents,

Or my teachers.

Maybe I could just go spazztic on a stranger at the grocery store?

Talk to the walls?

I just don't want to bother anyone,

Don't want to have to own up and talk about this fear,

Because I will most likely break down and start going slightly insane.

So I'll just outline for you here how much this career stuff terrifies me.

I am not good at anything practical.

I don't know how people choose occupations.

I'm not sure who I should consult on this.

Certainly not my guidance counselor.

(She scares me, an immense amount)

There.

Any suggestions on how to solve this monumental crisis?

(As it seems such in my mind, how selfish)

And this career conversation today

Brought up another future-type item.

Children.

It went like this,

"Why don't you sign up to see the early childhood development lab?"

Me: "I hate kids."

"You're gonna want them someday, you know. You'll get married and you'll want them. Your internal clock just isn't there yet."

Me: "No, I'm not going to want them. People always tell me that. I have no mothering instincts."

I turned away after this,

And thought mean thoughts in my head like

"I didn't ask you, you're stupid."

And "ShutupShutupShutup! Don't tell me how to live my life!"

Or "You're 15, I am therefore older than you, don't talk to me about 'internal clocks'!!! Aruhgf!!"

I was slightly upset, if you couldn't deduce.

Yeah, I hate kids.

What a horrible person am I.

And then people continuously point out things like,

"You're gonna marry someone who wants kids"

"You might accidentally get pregnant."

"You were a kid once too, if your parents thought like that, you wouldn't even be here!"

No, I won't marry someone who wants kids, I'm sure there are men out there with a similar dislike of kids, right?

Accidents happen. But there's surgery to prevent such types of accidents from happening. Yes, as in, getting rid all that stuff... you know what I mean.

No, really, I realize I was a kid, still am one, or whatever. And it certainly is not my civic duty to reproduce to please other people.

Seriously,

And excuse my crude language usage here,

But seriously

Fuck you guys.

Sorry,

I know that was rude.

But I have no womanly duty to fulfill by popping out 2.2 kiddies and driving around a minivan.

It just isn't what I want, thank you, good day.

And whatever opinion you hold, so be it,

But I just don't like kids.

What a horrendous crime, right?

Bite me.

And while we're at it,

Here's a list of who I am, in terms of societal things, right?

I'm just an arrogant, self-involved, child-hating, pessimist bitch, right?

Right.

And Yes,

Somedays,

I'm just fine with that.

Somedays I'd even venture to say that I

LIKE that.

That I like who I am.

But only somedays.

Like I said.

A little (A lot) overwhelmed right now.

I am procrastinating so much right now, that it's insane.

I have too much stuff I have to get finished to be ranting about things that don't matter.

So I bid thee all a good evening/afternoon type-thing,

Adieu,

And please,

Don't hate me for this post

And its language and rudeness.

I'm just mildly pissed off.

Sorry,

It happens to us all, right?

Right.

Good-bye.

Jesus of Suburbia

I said I had nothing to say.

I lied, apparently.

Because just like those Holiday Inn commercials,

Shower thinking is good stuff.

So somehow, some influx of thought led my mind on this long, convoluted journey which ended with,

"well geez, he's gonna know the title of my blog now."

And I went into this slightly spazzmatic mode where I was all "Ahh! WhatdoIdoifhefindstheblogohmygadwhatdoIdo?"

And then logic kicked in and calmly stated that, well, if he finds it, he finds it, if he so happens to pursue the idea of the blog, so be it.

But not really, I'm hoping he doesn't find it and I don't die of the worst kind of embarrassment.

And so,

Begins my terrible journey of paranoia.

Don't you hate when you get paranoid over something so stupid,

And then it gets to the point where you go insane?

Yeah, me too.

Also,

Procrastination,

We all do this horrible, unpardonable (snicker-chuckle) sin,

But really,

The people that have pull all-nighters because they refused to utilize time.

Yeah, I get that people are busy,

But seriously,

Nothing pays off more than being able to go to sleep every night a very, very decent time,

Because you just decide to get stuff done.

Ok, enough self-righteousness,

I just think people need to realize the importance of

A) Sleeping

B) Deciding when enough is enough (in terms of procrastination)

and

C) Doing stuff.

Well,

Alright then,

I think this is the most I've said in a while.

Oh hey,

Mind if I rant a little more?

(Of course you all do, but I'm disregarding that)

How sappy can I get? (It's a challenge, I guess)

He yawns cute-like.

Like seriously, it's cute somehow.

And when he talks quietly and thoughtfully and such,

It's just dbzpnm0etpjnm.

Yep,

That it so the adjective to describe his quiet voice.

Of course.

My eye is twitching,

Too much computer.

Goodnight and sweet dreams,

To those of you that read this.

Far Away

I don't know what's wrong with me,

But I have nothing to say,

On here, Facebook, Twitter, not even to actual people.

Usually, I've got a plethora of things to spew out,

And my lack of though-making processes is driving me to the brink of insanity.

I don't know what this wordlessness is, but I want it to stop.

I can't think of anything.

Lies, yes, I can think of stuff,

Like how to write essays and solve matrices problems,

But I can't think of anything important.

Anything substantial.

What I do know, as of now-

There were natural disasters in Indonesia this week, many people were effected. I hope they receive help.

A cuckold is an old guy that marries a young girl who cheats on him, he is scorned and mocked.

I abuse commas.

It's chilly outside.

You're cute when you stutter and stammer and wrestle with your thoughts.

I know that much,

Right?

2 + 2 = 4

I know that, too.

But so far as intelligence goes,

I have nothing.

What is happening to me, oh dear god,

What'll go next?

ADBFUNPIM

...

I feel like a rant about him is necessary right now.

But there are so many things I could say that would be either revealing or creepy.

So I won't.

Other than yes,

He's cute when he stutters,

And I like him.

And what sort of nonsense is that?

A whole lot of nonsense, that's what sort.

And you know how when you like someone more than you should?

And you get a sort of tunnel vision, where all you see is them?

And you can only ever think about yourself being that person, and that person only?

But you know it can't be, yet you continue to ignore your logical mind and follow your heart

To what you know will be your own demise.

Ever have that feeling?

I'm sure you have.

Story of my life,

Actually.

Why did I ever, ever have to meet him?

Ever have to speak with him?

And now, why do I do it by choice?

Why? Because I'm just too obsessed.

BUT.

I know I've separated my feelings from him from my feelings about poetry.

I know this,

And it's a good thing.

But this Shakespeare-bashing, silly-clumsy sort of guy is just too much for me.

Argh.

Goodbye, goodnight, and farewell.

Yeah,

I love you.

I'm Looking Through You

May I say, that this blog has six followers.

Yeah, six.

As in 4 + 2,

Or 3 +3

Only six.

I really am that boring, now aren't I?

So I decided to provide with a mildly amusing graphic that you can view to your right ->

At least,

I found it mildly (Or even more than that...) amusing.

I hope you, you six followers, find it so, too.

But why get hung up on numbers, right?

Six is plenty of people to throw a pretty rad party.

You only need six people to be awesome.

As you can see:

1. DJ.

2. Guy with lampshade on his head.

3. Drunken karaoke singer.

4 & 5- Guys that play darts and talk about sports.

6. Rad dancing fool.

There you have it,

SIX.

All that is needed for a party.

I hope you concur.

Ahh geez, I am so boring. I don't know what else to tell any of you.

Shall I start making direct comments?

No, that would end horribly.

Because some of you people,

I don't actually know you.

Would you like to hear about how people annoy me to no known end, and are driving me to reclusive habits and whatnot.

I didn't think so.

Can I interest you in something with a less "average teenager" flavor to it?

Like, something that I did not make, or have any hand it, but just found highly comic,

And possibly very revealing about modern American culture?

Yes, you would very highly enjoy that, wouldn't you all?

You better.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9JUqS4Q2A0

As I am too stupid to figure out how to get the actual video up, all I can provide you with is the link.

Alas, I am a technological failure,

But we'll all live, won't we?

So watch it,

Because I'm done talking at you.

It's funny,

I swear.

That and I just can't come up with anything today.

Goodbye.

It's Only Love

Have you ever been so wrapped up in imaginary things,

That you swore them to be real?

Not like in "Where The Wild Things Are" or anything,

But.

Right now,

Someone's got their air conditioner running,

And all the windows are open,

And for a little while, I pretended like it was still summer.

I rewound back to July, and I stayed there.

And it's such a lovely illusion,

That it must be real, right?

Maybe if I lived in the twilight zone,

This could be real.

Something about right now,

The fact that it's warm,

And everything is so...

Clean-feeling,

Not hospital-clean,

Just.

Clean,

Makes things seem good.

Well.

Alright.

Fine.

Just peachy.

It isn't fantastic,

That term is reserved,

But it's just fine.

And nothing beats contentedness,

Am I right?

I think I went a little crazy with my paint colors.

I have bag full.

And they're all so pretty.

I'm not quite sure what to say right now.

Now.

Not later,

But here, in the present

Where I am being content.

Where things are peachy keen.

Come to think of it,

Yes.

It is a little,

"Where The Wild Things Are"-esque

Right now.

That movie was a little bit sadder than I thought it would be,

But.

It's cute.

And the music is cute.

And things just feel a little cute.

One of my friends made this comment today,

It was small,

But she said, "You guys talk a lot, does he drive you home?"

And that thought made me want to giggle,

Because if he did,

That would be so awkward and yet, very perfect.

But of course, tis not the case.

But that's alright.

Goodnight,

Hope it feels like summer wherever you are, too.

:D