I feel like my life is zooming past me. I'm sitting here, miles behind my world's progression in a blur that I will never escape. I can run as fast as I can; fast like the wind; the speed of a crashing storm wave; the kick of thunder at my feet.
I am listening to "Born Slippy (Nuxx)" by Underworld from the Trainspotting soundtrack which I got today while in Park Slope at this really cool secondhand record shops. They're one of my favourite places in the world. Back to the song though. I listen to this song and then I suddenly feel like all the speeding particles slow down and I am able to see my cluttered world again. In all honesty, I feel like my world is falling apart. I have no reason to be upset and I have to keep telling myself that.
All I can think of is how shitty of a person I am and then in retaliation, people act shitty towards me. It's all cause and effect. To be loved is too much.
I punched the wall again and I think I really messed up my finger this time. I need more of a reminder that my life doesn't suck, why not put a bruise there? This is all sarcastically speaking, mind you.
The bad is never outweighed by the good. My parents are trying to keep such an eye on me and I wish they didn't, but I do at the same time. This isn't a cry for help, this is my outlet. I can only hold it together for so long. I don't know why I hit the wall again. Hitting it released so much energy and stress which made it all strangely euphoric. I felt it, no doubt, but I needed to hit it again.
Sounds strange, doesn't it?
I want to take account that this stress is probably just my AP World exam closing in on me like poison, but I know it's not. It's Natalie, Jenna, Rob and Michael. I have so much trouble coming to terms with that and I don't know why.
I guess this is just growing up.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Don't know what you're expecting of me.
Once you've punched something as hard as you possibly can in the past, it's not so scary to hit it harder in the future.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Oh, baby refrain, from breaking my heart.
I'M SO IN LOVE WITH YOOOOOUUU. I'LL BE FOREVERRRRRRRR. THAT SHOULD GIVE ME NO REASON.WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME WORK SO HARD? THAT SHOULD GIVE ME NO, THAT SHOULD GIVE ME NO, THAT SHOULD GIVE ME NO, THAT SHOULD GIVE ME NO SOOOOUUULL. I HEAR YOU CALLING. OH BABY PLEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASE. GIVE ME A LITTLE RESPECT TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
Great song. It epitomizes the 80s, kind of. I find every time that I do come back to this song, it still relates painfully strong to me at that specific time and place. Sometimes I wish it didn't. Actually, no. Correction. I wish this song never really applied to me. It might be a stretch, now that I think of it. I've never been in a relationship, so what do I know?
Anyway. I'm here to write more about my life this time. I'll start with the beginning of break.
I mean, I have a good work ethic, most of the time. I just have to do all of my work at the beginning of break, or the weekend, otherwise I'll completely forget about it and never do it. When it would come to doing it, I'll continue to put it off and do something that I had been doing all break (Example: Starcraft 2, Tumblr, reading, etc).
I'm glad I got it done this time, besides finding a picture of various Russian leaders in the "Early Modern Times" (1450-1750), like Peter the Great, the Ivans which led to the Romanovs. I think Russian last names are really cool. Maybe I'm the only one. I'd love to study Russian and travel to Russia. The only bad part would be the cold. I suppose you can add this to the list of things I will attempt to do in college, but eventually will fall through because of my lack of a decent attention span.
Yesterday, as you all should know, I went to Rob's show, hosted locally in my town. The attenders were really into it. I think 'really' is a horrible understatement. When you go to concerts, the general demographic is very similar to each other; this show was not. It made me regret wearing my cardigan because I felt so out of place there. It didn't matter because everyone was so accepting. (But, I'm always so self-conscious...)
Besides the music being blasting and intense, I was so glad I got to talk to Rob. Internally I was jumping, not just glad. I was also glad that Jenna wasn't there either. Here's what I noticed.
Great song. It epitomizes the 80s, kind of. I find every time that I do come back to this song, it still relates painfully strong to me at that specific time and place. Sometimes I wish it didn't. Actually, no. Correction. I wish this song never really applied to me. It might be a stretch, now that I think of it. I've never been in a relationship, so what do I know?
Anyway. I'm here to write more about my life this time. I'll start with the beginning of break.
I mean, I have a good work ethic, most of the time. I just have to do all of my work at the beginning of break, or the weekend, otherwise I'll completely forget about it and never do it. When it would come to doing it, I'll continue to put it off and do something that I had been doing all break (Example: Starcraft 2, Tumblr, reading, etc).
I'm glad I got it done this time, besides finding a picture of various Russian leaders in the "Early Modern Times" (1450-1750), like Peter the Great, the Ivans which led to the Romanovs. I think Russian last names are really cool. Maybe I'm the only one. I'd love to study Russian and travel to Russia. The only bad part would be the cold. I suppose you can add this to the list of things I will attempt to do in college, but eventually will fall through because of my lack of a decent attention span.
Yesterday, as you all should know, I went to Rob's show, hosted locally in my town. The attenders were really into it. I think 'really' is a horrible understatement. When you go to concerts, the general demographic is very similar to each other; this show was not. It made me regret wearing my cardigan because I felt so out of place there. It didn't matter because everyone was so accepting. (But, I'm always so self-conscious...)
Besides the music being blasting and intense, I was so glad I got to talk to Rob. Internally I was jumping, not just glad. I was also glad that Jenna wasn't there either. Here's what I noticed.
- His breath smelled minty; I saw him walking back from the pizza place when I was walking with Ali to the same one. (Plum Tomatoes nomz).
- When he gave me a high five, our fingers interlocked for a second. I then began to ponder whether high fives are done like that. Have I done them wrong my entire life?
- Periodically, he would playful hit me with his shirt, or his hands.
I melted, pretty much.
To finalize everything (to catch up with my life) because I am so tired and refuse to write anymore. I should say I am very disappointed in my cousin Kathleen who is turning into a girl who I would never speak to in school. It's hard because she's family and I see her very often. I can only do so much to prevent this. I feel like I have intervened too late.
Also. Doctor Who was tonight, or last night. It is Easter today. It was so good. I can't even comprehend. Steven Moffat is fucking with Whovian heads. I can't wait for next Saturday! (It makes sitting through volunteering bearable, knowing that a great show is on later that day).
Friday, April 22, 2011
And I haven't felt this alive, in years.
I am coming here not to write about my life, but about a show I have returned from just an hour ago. It was a local show hosted at the Ethical Humanist Society building in my town. I never really knew what it was for, but I later learned that it was a religion. Or a religious congregation building. There's a bunch in my town, but this one seems a little more hidden; not explained openly to the public.
My point is: I go to so many shows in comparison to a lot of people I know and it seems only appropriate for me to write a blog entry on them. Otherwise known as a review.
The show began at six and lasted until eleven, I'm assuming. I left early, but I didn't necessarily want to. It isn't really my type of music, but I can enjoy it/tolerate it most of the time. I used to be a kid who loved that type of music. I then discovered Franz Ferdinand and it later defined my music taste from then on. Enough about me.
I was expecting a large turnout, up to the brim with people. It only looked like ninety people showed up. Those were the most soulful people I have ever met in my life. They were jumping and shouting/singing the lyrics while climbing all over each other. I began to realize this when my friend's band, No Good News, came on. For a relatively new band, they have a strong fanbase, as did all the other bands.
I didn't know many of the bands, but I was really impressed. Despite the rowdy nature of them all, it was very good. It made you glad that there weren't three hundred and fifteen people in there, like the information page had said. There were no blinding lights, other than the flash slaves in the front. It's the style of this hard and fast pop-punk; to be "up and in" the crowd, screaming along with your favourite band.
It's also the style to take that picture, put it on a t-shirt with a lyric about how your friends are more important than your family or something about a bad past relationship and sell it. I hate those shirts.
The most interesting part of the night was the skankers. It looks really ridiculous (Even though I learned how to do it tonight). In the front, the ever so notorious mosh pit, looms over the meek, but welcomes the rowdy and the intense concert attenders. It was a mix of skanking, pushing, shoving and running around in a circle. I stayed far back with my friends. When it starts though, everyone backs away quick. It's so sudden and kind of funny.
This tour was called the SKA IS DEAD tour, which it kind of is. If you're interested, the acts that played were:
The Fad
We Are The Union
The Forthrights
Stuck Lucky
Royal City Riot
The Beatdown
No Good News
My point is: I go to so many shows in comparison to a lot of people I know and it seems only appropriate for me to write a blog entry on them. Otherwise known as a review.
The show began at six and lasted until eleven, I'm assuming. I left early, but I didn't necessarily want to. It isn't really my type of music, but I can enjoy it/tolerate it most of the time. I used to be a kid who loved that type of music. I then discovered Franz Ferdinand and it later defined my music taste from then on. Enough about me.
I was expecting a large turnout, up to the brim with people. It only looked like ninety people showed up. Those were the most soulful people I have ever met in my life. They were jumping and shouting/singing the lyrics while climbing all over each other. I began to realize this when my friend's band, No Good News, came on. For a relatively new band, they have a strong fanbase, as did all the other bands.
I didn't know many of the bands, but I was really impressed. Despite the rowdy nature of them all, it was very good. It made you glad that there weren't three hundred and fifteen people in there, like the information page had said. There were no blinding lights, other than the flash slaves in the front. It's the style of this hard and fast pop-punk; to be "up and in" the crowd, screaming along with your favourite band.
It's also the style to take that picture, put it on a t-shirt with a lyric about how your friends are more important than your family or something about a bad past relationship and sell it. I hate those shirts.
The most interesting part of the night was the skankers. It looks really ridiculous (Even though I learned how to do it tonight). In the front, the ever so notorious mosh pit, looms over the meek, but welcomes the rowdy and the intense concert attenders. It was a mix of skanking, pushing, shoving and running around in a circle. I stayed far back with my friends. When it starts though, everyone backs away quick. It's so sudden and kind of funny.
This tour was called the SKA IS DEAD tour, which it kind of is. If you're interested, the acts that played were:
The Fad
We Are The Union
The Forthrights
Stuck Lucky
Royal City Riot
The Beatdown
No Good News
In that order.
They are all pretty much inspired by the same people/band. You can hear it in the music, their mannerisms and how they react and interact with the crowd. Unfortunately, the sound systems for some of the acts were very poor and you couldn't understand what the vocalist was trying to convey. Although, you can assume that they were saying something about your friends, or late night drives, or how their ex sucks and they should choke and die.
The drummers, I should mention, know how to hit the drums hard and play fast. I suppose that comes with a lot of practice. I shouldn't forget my fellow bassists. They were excellent. They were able to move their fingers across the fretboard with such speed and precision. I was taken aback. The guitarists were typical, unfortunately. I mean, I love chords just as much as the next guy, but keep it fresh. Play a single note is always good, too.
As a summary, if you decided that this was too long, didn't read: Despite the ability to hit obnoxious highs in terms of loudness in the drums and guitars, it was a good show. The crowd was noticeably divided and if you hate mosh pits, stay as far away as possible from the front.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Now you're crying in your sleep. I wish you'd never learn to weep.
I just discovered this song by the Lightning Seeds. It's called "Pure". The host on 1st Wave described the band as one of the few bands Morrissey likes and when you listen to the lyrics, you can hear why. They are very similar to what he writes about. My favourite line of the song is the title of this post.
The bruise has faded. Well, not really. It's still there and mocks you. Reminding you of your stupidity. When you punch in kickboxing, it hurts. Why I have switched to second person, I don't know. The point is: I punched hard yesterday and I began to bleed. I feel like this bruise will never fade.
There's not much to say right now. It's spring break and I feel more tired than I usually do during a school week.
The bruise has faded. Well, not really. It's still there and mocks you. Reminding you of your stupidity. When you punch in kickboxing, it hurts. Why I have switched to second person, I don't know. The point is: I punched hard yesterday and I began to bleed. I feel like this bruise will never fade.
There's not much to say right now. It's spring break and I feel more tired than I usually do during a school week.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes.
I think I need to document this. Just to tell myself how stupid I am currently acting. To tell myself never to get to this point again.
Your skin is being ripped apart, the skin between your knuckles, red and ready to burst gushes of blood. Your knuckles between your nail and the hand, ripped. Your ring finger is bruised, red and swollen. You can't tell if you actually harmed yourself or not, but you know that it isn't good. Something is definitely dislocated. What have you done?
Oh, it hurts. Lord, does it hurt. You're torturing yourself with 'Numb' by Linkin Park. You never listen to Linkin Park. There are hot tears running down your face. You don't want attention. You want release, exemption. You want redemption and you want fury. You want everything to be as bad as you think. You want everyone to be evil. You want polar opposites. You want to see everything in black and white. Nothing in between. No colour, no shades.
You feel like nobody cares about you. You know they do. You don't want them to. But, you do all at the same time. You search for love, but are backhanded with cold.
If there's anything I need to periodically remind myself: I am beautiful. I am not alone. I have a good life. There is no need for these kinds of actions.
Your mother doesn't know what she's doing. She's pushing you to the edge.
You don't need to be at that edge. She doesn't mean it, you know it.
Why take it the wrong way?
Just breathe.
Your skin is being ripped apart, the skin between your knuckles, red and ready to burst gushes of blood. Your knuckles between your nail and the hand, ripped. Your ring finger is bruised, red and swollen. You can't tell if you actually harmed yourself or not, but you know that it isn't good. Something is definitely dislocated. What have you done?
Oh, it hurts. Lord, does it hurt. You're torturing yourself with 'Numb' by Linkin Park. You never listen to Linkin Park. There are hot tears running down your face. You don't want attention. You want release, exemption. You want redemption and you want fury. You want everything to be as bad as you think. You want everyone to be evil. You want polar opposites. You want to see everything in black and white. Nothing in between. No colour, no shades.
You feel like nobody cares about you. You know they do. You don't want them to. But, you do all at the same time. You search for love, but are backhanded with cold.
If there's anything I need to periodically remind myself: I am beautiful. I am not alone. I have a good life. There is no need for these kinds of actions.
Your mother doesn't know what she's doing. She's pushing you to the edge.
You don't need to be at that edge. She doesn't mean it, you know it.
Why take it the wrong way?
Just breathe.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Under a blood red sky.
I'm really sick of my browser (Google Chrome) randomly shutting down and taking all my tabs with it. It's such a problem. I didn't write much here to begin with, but it's still frustration. Microsoft Word, unlike Chrome, auto-saves periodically. I mean, I know blogspot does that sometimes too, but I haven't had that done for me for a while. Maybe I should start hitting the 'Save now' button more often.
I've been getting really emotional over playing badminton. I'm not happy about that. I start to lose and then I start to cry. It might be the human thing to do, to cry. It relives stress in a way, but I am the type of person who needs to keep their tears inside. I don't like people seeing me cry. Today, it wasn't so bad. I tried playing through my tears, but I couldn't breathe. I was gasping for air and I felt like I was being smothered. The shots I lost were pretty simple. I wish I wasn't so blinded by anger, frustration, rage. (They're all the same in the end). I'm an angry crier. I don't think I really cry when I'm sad. I haven't done that for a while.
Marching Band has started up again. I think I've been welcomed back. I still feel some sort of tension, but I wasn't expecting to be welcomed back with opened arms. I have strange dialogues and scenarios in my head; they never go the way I'd like them to.
I know that I'm not doing Marching Band for my friends or for myself. I'm doing it for Rob. I can't lie to myself. I can't mask it over. I can't do anything to hide it. I want to prove to him that I'm better than Jenna. In all honesty, I do believe that I'm only doing this because he's the only guy who's acted like a guy around me and has treated me like a girl.
That's a bit of an overstatement. He's called me a guy. Since he's said that, that's all I think of. It makes me angry and I want to change my wardrobe. You can't have it all. I know I shouldn't have to. I should just be myself, but with something like this, it's difficult. I mean, when a guy tells you he likes how you fit in his arms, it's really hard to not fall over at his feet. Then again, with reading him, he might be telling all the girls that. I'm such a pessimist. I can never see the brighter side of things.
I have been told repeatedly that I'm pretty. It takes me a while before I see it when I look in a mirror, but I know it is not a lie. I'm not drop-dead gorgeous or make-you-vomit ugly, but somewhere towards more pretty but not horribly ugly. I feel like that my looks are all I have to hang on to right now. That's a stretch. I feel like I'm never going to get into college (We did this college thing for school today, my grade does not make the cut).
I'm waiting for real Spring before I break out Jack Peñate. He reminds me of this time so much. I try not to listen to him in Winter and Fall. I keep it to a minimum in Summer because his music epitomizes Spring. Don't ask me why I think that. Everything Is New has a Spring connotation for me.
Jaxson is doing well. Health wise and all. His ear mites are almost all gone, but his excretion policies are poor. We almost had it. He's trying to test us and our limits.
In addition to all of this mess, I was asked to play bass in a band with two pop-punk kids. Kim's pretty cool, Natalie is a douchebag. That's it. It's not going to go anywhere. Might as well as say yes and then say I did.
I should go to sleep now. I've got so much to do, including for blogging and updating boats-and-trains-beyond-the-sea. I hate that I can't submit anything without it being one to two years old. Hesitation is always bad. I over think things. I wish I wasn't such an over-analyzer.
Goodnight, my lovelies.
I've been getting really emotional over playing badminton. I'm not happy about that. I start to lose and then I start to cry. It might be the human thing to do, to cry. It relives stress in a way, but I am the type of person who needs to keep their tears inside. I don't like people seeing me cry. Today, it wasn't so bad. I tried playing through my tears, but I couldn't breathe. I was gasping for air and I felt like I was being smothered. The shots I lost were pretty simple. I wish I wasn't so blinded by anger, frustration, rage. (They're all the same in the end). I'm an angry crier. I don't think I really cry when I'm sad. I haven't done that for a while.
Marching Band has started up again. I think I've been welcomed back. I still feel some sort of tension, but I wasn't expecting to be welcomed back with opened arms. I have strange dialogues and scenarios in my head; they never go the way I'd like them to.
I know that I'm not doing Marching Band for my friends or for myself. I'm doing it for Rob. I can't lie to myself. I can't mask it over. I can't do anything to hide it. I want to prove to him that I'm better than Jenna. In all honesty, I do believe that I'm only doing this because he's the only guy who's acted like a guy around me and has treated me like a girl.
That's a bit of an overstatement. He's called me a guy. Since he's said that, that's all I think of. It makes me angry and I want to change my wardrobe. You can't have it all. I know I shouldn't have to. I should just be myself, but with something like this, it's difficult. I mean, when a guy tells you he likes how you fit in his arms, it's really hard to not fall over at his feet. Then again, with reading him, he might be telling all the girls that. I'm such a pessimist. I can never see the brighter side of things.
I have been told repeatedly that I'm pretty. It takes me a while before I see it when I look in a mirror, but I know it is not a lie. I'm not drop-dead gorgeous or make-you-vomit ugly, but somewhere towards more pretty but not horribly ugly. I feel like that my looks are all I have to hang on to right now. That's a stretch. I feel like I'm never going to get into college (We did this college thing for school today, my grade does not make the cut).
I'm waiting for real Spring before I break out Jack Peñate. He reminds me of this time so much. I try not to listen to him in Winter and Fall. I keep it to a minimum in Summer because his music epitomizes Spring. Don't ask me why I think that. Everything Is New has a Spring connotation for me.
Jaxson is doing well. Health wise and all. His ear mites are almost all gone, but his excretion policies are poor. We almost had it. He's trying to test us and our limits.
In addition to all of this mess, I was asked to play bass in a band with two pop-punk kids. Kim's pretty cool, Natalie is a douchebag. That's it. It's not going to go anywhere. Might as well as say yes and then say I did.
I should go to sleep now. I've got so much to do, including for blogging and updating boats-and-trains-beyond-the-sea. I hate that I can't submit anything without it being one to two years old. Hesitation is always bad. I over think things. I wish I wasn't such an over-analyzer.
Goodnight, my lovelies.
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