Craving

I had a sudden craving for Monster today...completely unexplainable on my part. I remember when I first tried Red Bull, and thought it was repulsive. Then, all of a sudden, I felt like gulping down an energy drink, when I grimaced at the taste? To me, it tastes too sweet, like melted smarties mixed in with carbonated water. But it was so good. I had to have it. So I did. And now I'm typing a mile a minute. Hehe. Well, I only have to get up at four o'clock tomorrow morning. *leh sigh* It's the end of the year Chicago trip, which requires us to get to school at 5:30 am, and not get back at out hotel until about ten. It's going to be crowded in the next couple of days...and like I told my mom, it's just school in another city.
But we get to see all sorts of landmarks, like the aquarium and the Sears Tower. Things that you can only go to Chicago to see. And we get to see the Blue Man Group. I love them. I saw them in Orlando with Hannah. Very funny too.
Well, I have to catch you up on a few things. Well, first of all, Friday was Metro Beach, which was a blast, since I got to spend the entire day with Tristan and Gaby. We took time asking each other questions that we were curious about the opposite sex on the little island a bit away from where the rest of our group was. (I'm NOT repeating the questions here for Tristan's sake. We asked him VERY personal information. Hehe. He only asked questions like "How does your mind work?" or "How do you vent out your emotions?" Gaby and I had much more fun.)
And, the time I had alone with Tristan was fun. Really, really, really fun. Okay, don't let your imagination go too wild there.
And then we had the state track meet today, my relay team coming in fourth over all. Which is really good, because we got a medal.
Well, I got to go, because I'm on my mother's computer, and I'm all anxious my parents will find out about my blog. No way in hell will I let that happen.

Feel

Oh sweet jubilee

My heart sail to sea

Wave by wave, ocean blaze

Birds dive, gently graze

Feel the wind, feel the blue

Feel the old, feel the new

Water wash

Water clean

Now tell me what

This really means

Senses clear

As the air

Letting go

It's only fair

But I now

Feel the breeze

Cold enough

To make me freeze

Feel the wind

In my hair

Feel it too?

I know I can

Come with me

I'll take your hand

I'll show you where

Where I stand

On the water

Clear and pure

Looking down

Like a mirror

Feel the warmth

On your back?

Feeling what

You may lack?

I know I can

I know I do

Come here often?

I know I do

Wish to want

Want to wish

Swim away

With the fish

Do you know

What I mean?

Don't it make you

Want to scream?

Lack of perfection

My obsession

Deep deception

Imperfect reflection

Sometimes I sigh

Wonder why

Want to fly

I know I

Feel I do

So I soar

The ocean blue.

Back at the Bad Bitch

She's a bitch, oh yes she is.
Shorter than most, her hair is the only thing that has body. She's short, stubby, with a face curled into a prune. Her nose sticks out much like a beak. Watch out, you might get close-lined. Her eyes are beady and unintelligent, just looking at her makes you want to do something dramatic (like kill her and then yourself). She gets her pleasure by watching kids struggle, and putting in insulting input ever now and again. No one really likes her, she's unmarried, for an obvious reason, and everyone is out to get her. She's the track coach from hell, takes no pity, and certainly gets none of her own.
With all of our combined efforts, all our anger focused to one place, her. I wanted, with all my heart, for her to burst into flames. Instead, I got something else. Maybe not as good, but it'll work. With an angry whirlwind that was possibly sent from God, papers fly from her binder, all around the track, high in the sky, shining in the glorious sun. I try not to cry from laughing so hard, it's just the way she looked so stunned...over the trees, into the highway, her papers flew, who knew what they had written on them. It was amazing.
It made my day, actually. She smiled, pretending to get over it, but I know in her mind she was probably thinking, "Oh, f*ck this." It was beautiful. Tristan said that it would have been a good picture. I agree.

Love love love

Ah, why bother? Love is a bitch. Hand in hand with life. A hard-core sonofabitch. It's almost pointless. But the emotional roller coaster is too hard to resist. Why would I want a boyfriend then? Well, I like him and all, a lot, A LOT, more than anyone else who may like him, I know, because I get that feeling, that special feeling. Aye, you wouldn't understand. No one understands.
Because I'm feeling in one of those wishy-washy moods, I'm going to tell you about him. Mine as well.
Tristan is his name. Known him since 6th grade, first time I laid eyes on him he was stuffing his face with cotton candy. I'll never forget that. My first site of the guy I would eventually be dating. Not that I thought he was a weirdo or anything, but he is pretty weird. No such thing as normal. He's fun to make laugh, and is enjoyable to tickle, and gives a-m-a-z-i-n-g massages. Supportive, funny, fun to talk to, and all around great personality. He's in love with photography, and takes pictures of everything. The sky, the ground, the sun, me, a tree, a bug, a person walking by, and basically anything that passes within his field of vision. He has one of those $350 professional cameras that take really high-detail and amazing pictures (he's shown me a lot of his pictures, they're really nice). I can talk to him about a lot of stuff...basically...anything. Never short of words. Unless neither of us are in the mood. Then maybe we'll lay down, me with my head on his chest, and look at the clouds. He's got really nice eyes, green-blue, like mine, except with a hint more emerald color to them. I love how he looks at me sometimes. I love it. Love love love it. I love his hair too. It's adorable. I want to play with it all the time. Just a bit lighter than mine, in a too-cute mushroom hair cut that cuts right above his eyebrows. He's muscular, works out, and says he has an eight-pack. We'll find out about that. I admit that I love it when he sweats because his hair is all messed up and pushed back to reveal more of his face, and his cheeks all red like he's blushing. It looks....hot. I think so. I just...love him. He's the first guy to call me beautiful. Hell, my dad hasn't even said that. It shows he has more of a sensitive side too, instead of a just rock-hard heart. I hate guys like that. I love guys like him, but him most of all. I also love his laugh. It makes me smile. His smile is great too....he's great. And I'm not over-exaggerating, normally girls get all googly-eyed over one guy, saying he's great, when he turns out to be a cold-hearted bastard. I know Tristan isn't like that. I know for sure.
Today we had this conversation...I was feeling a bit low..because a friend has been giving me a hard time, and it was Tuesdays. I hate Tuesdays.
Me: This sucks. I want to go home and kill myself.
Tristan: Noooo, don't kill yourself.
Me: Why not?
Tristan: Who's going to be the next J.K. Rowling then?
God I love him.

In Your Arms (wrote this in four minutes, don't expect anything great)

I want to hold you forever

Until my arms wither

Until I feel my soul

Leaving this world

So lonely and cold

So broken and old

The day I die

Close

Yet hard to find

But I want to be by your side

Where my thoughts

Dreams

Ambitions

Will reside

In your arms

This world can only bring

Harm

But I find peace

In your arms

The ghosts of my past

Envelop me

Fast

I start to shiver

Breath into frost

Is not all

Already lost?

But not here

Not in your arms

Because I find peace

Here in your arms

The world do me no

Harm

Here in your arms

Eyes wide in alarm

I hear a silent song

To which my soul

Will soon belong

I want to escape

Please

Save me

From

This

Place

Because I find peace

In your arms

Always

Keep

Me

From

Harm.

But life goes on...

It always does, and it always will. I have other things to worry about, and other ways to occupy myself. School's coming to a close, and that makes me happy. I know I love to learn, but I'm sick of a lot of stuff. And I'm mad because I got a damn 92 on my English paper, while most of the kids got better. NOT because of my writing, thanktheLord, but because of formatting. When I write I don't pay attention to formatting. Who cares? But I must strive to reach those oh-so-wonderful MLA standards. Ohhh, I can't wait for high school. Oh well, maybe my teacher will like me better. And maybe it'll be vise-versa.
Ahhhhh, I just went book shopping today. Actually it was clothes shopping time, but it always turns into book shopping. I was having a huge problem over choosing between five books. I had to put away two. I felt so sad. (But I did get the new Stephenie Meyer book, The Host, so I'm pretty psyched about that)
And we have a bridal shower to go to tomorrow. Or a wedding shower. Or something of the like. Not a baby shower though. I'm not that completely out of the loop. But it's for my bro's fiance, so it is a must. But it's cool because then I get off of work early. That's always a thumbs-up.
I'm going to attempt hooking onto some sleep despite my turmoiling emotions, so I'd best be going...

A huge sigh

Stuffy nose, throbbing eyes, bitting my lip, in my mind I want to scream, or beat something to a pulp. I want to pulverize, destroy, kill, and take out my anger at the moment. I know if I do, I might not have to direct it at someone I love.
I can't sleep, because I have so much emotion welled up inside me. I want to do some vigorous exercise, or go for a long walk listening to my ipod to blow of steam. Things aren't going as planned, and they never will, or at least, not for a while.
Let me tell you what gets me worked up most of all. Some things barely phase me, most of the time they don't even come close to affecting me, but there are certain things that just put me off the hook. Like being a teenager. The temporally. Just having everything be as a 'phase' and nothing more. Because I'm still growing and nothing stays the same. Guys, thoughts, opinions, reasons, hobbies, ambitions. Like a boat, continuously moving. I'm getting really seasick right now. Yep, sick of looking at the goddamn waves over the goddamn side of the goddamn boat. That goddamn horizon isn't helping either. It's moving with the rest of the world.
How lousy. Lousy, lousy, lousy. Everything is sooo lousy. I could get along with Holden Caulfield easily. I wonder if he had problems when he was thirteen too? I betcha he did.
So here's the point, I mine as well get directly to it, since there's not purpose in stalling.
I love Tristan. Tristan loves me. Hannah loves Tristan. Tristan has no interest. Hannah is upset. Hannah wants me to back off. Hannah has been crying every night since I've told her. It's been one night since Hannah found off. I am mad. I think that if she is so goddamn miserable, maybe she should do what I used to do when I used to get mad or upset a year ago. Do you want to know what I did? No. Because it was pointless. It was the shittiest thing I could have done. Suck it up. That's what I want to say. I pray that she doesn't read this, because deep down, I love her, and I don't want to make her upset. But what if I like him? What if I love the way he looks at me? What if the reason this all started is because he and I were really close? What if he was the first guy to say 'you are the most beautiful girl I have ever met'? What if he cares, and looks at me with actual concern? What if he cares enough to be afraid for Hannah and I's friendship? What if? Hmm?
I don't know what to say. I could either say, 'for the past year I've been sacrificing everything for my friends' or I could be saying 'for the past year I've been a total self-centered bitch'. But I don't know. It seems to change.

Anger

In her fit of horrid agitation, she broke the pen in half, ink seeping through the pages of the book. Her eyes blazed like blue fire, the hottest of all. She screamed, throwing the book off of the table, and pulling at her strands of hair in pure agony. Her hair ripped from her scalp, leaving huge and ugly-looking bald spots randomly throughout her head. Tears furiously spill down her cheeks, trying with fruitless effort to cool down her temper. But she is stubborn, and is no where near giving in to peace and calamity, and with a feeling of destruction, she gets up, her feet leaving holes in the floor; the walls falling from the overpowered emotion; all living things shriveling with one look at her deadly eyes. Her hair turns into snakes, and she hisses, an ugly sound, sharp and piercing. She wants to tear down the world with her sharp nails, clawing at all helpless life forms that cower under her superior form. But she wants them to fight, only for the more enjoyment she will receive when they crumble up and die. Yes, she is almighty, all mighty and deadly, much like Satan himself, who looks down as a father looks down proudly on his beautiful daughter. But she is not beautiful, her skin boils with hear, and her body is grotesque and malformed. Lay down at her feet! Pray for forgiveness! She is merciless, and will give no justice, if not only for the wicked. Crushing cities with her feet, once high buildings that kissed the sky, now turn into compound squares of metal. People scream, people die, people scream as they die. What shall they do now? Armageddon is here, and they can do nothing but collapse and die.
What shall I do? When will my anger and stubbornness overpower till the point where it crushes my soul. Will my fingers pound angrily at the keyboard, forming words from just a simple touch of a button, until I feel that I must rest, that I must lay down and let my hands rest from constant use. But I will not now, no, I will never rest, I will not rest until my stories are in the hands of every young adult in the world. Until children read my words and learn from them, or find hope in them, for everyone is hopeless, and needs inspiring to go on and live in this horrible world of today. I pray to God that he may supply me, supply me with what I need to cure this world of its horrible sickness. All diseases have a cure, even if they are not found. Will this one ever be found? I pray that it may, and I may be one of a thousand who helped to do so.

Envying Trees

Wood creaks with age
Wisdom like that of sage
Leaves in the wind
Blowing on endlessly
Across the plains
Across the sea
Toward places
I wish I could be
Branches stretch to shade
Leaves budding
To form new souls
New lives to be made
I wish I were like a tree
Unworried
Unhurried
Large
Yet kind
Rough
Yet soft
Providing the world
With things that we never seem
To be thankful for
We take and take
And they still give us more
Why, my dear tree?
Do you put up with us
With what we have done
Don't you wish to be free?
But the tree is always free
Free as the wind
Unable to move
But everywhere
Protecting
Shielding
From rain
From sun
From the heat
And from the cold
It seems to have it easy
Why can't we let it be?
Be peaceful and tired
Eyes closed, yet open
Content with its life
Protect me old tree
I want to be like you
Oh tree, I envy thee

Proud of my life, the things I've done, proud of myself, and the loner I've become

((Quoted from Admit It!!! by Say Anything))

Ah, hello my little piglets. Long time no see.

Well, not like I have any piglets. That would make me a pig. And I don't want to be a pig. So maybe you'll be my little....swans. Yes, swans are beautiful. And they also can give you a nasty bite. Yes, long time no see my little swans.

Any who, I changed my layout once more to a twisted cartoon tree that caught my attention, not to mention I like the light barfy color that was in the background. It's a keeper for sure.

So what should I discuss....hmmm....so much. I'd like to announce with pure pride that I'm being confirmed as a Lutheran this Sunday. Questioning is tomorrow. I know I should study up on my catechism a bit. Yikes. For those of you that don't know what I'm talking about, conformation is something that takes place in the Lutheran church right about the time a person turns 13. It's when they confirm what their godparents and parents spoke for them during Baptism. I as baptised when I was only 11 days old, so twelve and some odd number of days later, here I come. Along with that, I can take communion, just like I have been for a few weeks (first communion was Palm Sunday).

So conformation is a big thing in a religious person's life, so therefore there needs to be a party, presents, food, and relatives. YIPPEE! (especially about the present part...I know that sounds childish...but I already got an iTunes gift card, and I'm psyched about what comes next). So we'll be having a party...a few of my friend's families and I....and it'll be awesome because the party's going to be hosted at the place where I work, and my co-workers will get to see that I actually have a life (weird, I know, but I act so lifeless and not at all talkative at work...).

But enough of the conformation blatherskite and jabberwocky, I have other things going on as well. Graduation, being one of them. (I have to make a speech...because of salutatorian...no, I didn't get valedictorian, but I almost did by a decimal, and I didn't know that grades throughout middle school counted toward the cause, and I was a complete idiot last year, so my friend got it. But she's like a sister to me, so I could never hold a grudge, and I still have got high school, now don't I? The world is mine, my friends!). So that's another thing I have to worry about...but I'm not worried about anything, really. School is almost over, and I'm feeling relieved. I'm just sad I won't get to see my buddies next year.

That, and I have a few upcoming track meets, yes, track started for me, and I've nearly died twice of a flippin' asthma attack, thank you verrrry much. I have a kung-fu test tomorrow too, which won't be bad since we get to grapple against guys that weigh 564 pounds. Can't waitttt.

I'll make another post after this one...one with a ton of pictures in it...since I'm just in the mood for posting pictures. And also a song, a really good song that I'm currently obsessing over that is by Say Anything....see ya my little SWANS.