California English.

I'll be completely honest. At the beginning of "California English" by Vampire Weekend, I have a hard time understanding what he's saying at the beginning. It's along the terms of, "Is this still English or some foreign, ancient language?".

I bring up the question that has been plaguing me for months now.

Is a female still a 'slutty' if she wears more skin revealing clothes if she heats up easier than the average person?

Or is that just early menopause?

d'you know what i mean?

I realize I can do so much better. I shouldn't have to deal with assholes like you. Why do I keep running back to you?

many of horror.

I sit here in fear of nothing. Does nothing mean the unknown or just simply nothing? They always say that ignorance is bliss. But, who is 'they' anyway?

I turn sixteen in four days. Two years until my high school career is almost over. Truthfully, I am so grateful. I don't want to grow up, so, in essence, I have very conflicting views. I know for a fact that when I leave for college, my OCD will fade away. I can promise this to myself and to many other people. I wish it didn't have be cured in such an abrupt way. Whatever that can make me stop being a germaphobe with OCD tendencies after three, four years, is welcomed.

I'm not playing my bass, Patrick Dennis Harold Monaters, in marching band. I'm playing the stupid glockenspiel. Does anyone ever realize what I fucking do to find love? I don't even want to do this. I'm doing this for fucking you, Rob.

Together, alone, we have great conversations. At least I think so. I know I'm only hurting myself; Ali tells me this quite a lot. But, I just want him. I want no one else. It seems that everyone else is jumping into relationships and I've been left behind in the dust.

I guess I'm just overtired, stressed and hungry.

feel safe.

Whistle.

I find it ironic that I'd love to be an independent female and be able to roam the Earth whenever and however I please, but I want to be protected by a male.

Run to space on the horizon.

My favourite part of Google Chrome is how it just randomly closes all my tabs. This seems only to happen when I come to blogspot to blog. It then says on my post count that I have one more post than I actually do. I checked "Edit Posts" and nothing is there. Oh well. I love the Internet.

I have unrealistic expectations of life itself and I suppose that everyone does. I like to pretend that everything will go my way, but nothing ever does. I could have it right in the palm of my hand, but the wind picks it up and takes it forever away from me. I can never jump into things; I have to sit there and analyze the pros and cons and later the state of my stomach.

To be honest, this is why I had so much apprehension to telling Rob I liked him back in Autumn. My stomach would twist about and I had butterflies (Which, I guess, is just normal). I mean, the thought of being with him scared me. I hardly knew this kid, but I liked him. It took me forever to finally admit to myself that I liked Michael. I do believe that it was his way with words. But then again, how many other girls have you been telling this garbage to, Robert?

My house seemed so foreign to me after you explained to me that you sort of liked me or whatever. You didn't at all and it became painfully obvious after you jumped into your relationship with Jenna. You can act like such an ass to me, but I still can't move on. I never dated you and I don't understand why you've snatched my mind and heart. It's not fair.

All I can think about is your stupid face and your stupid long hair and your stupid blue eyes. All I can see is your stupid walk and your stupid facial hair. All I can feel is your stupid arms around my stupid self and how much I wanted for that to be us forever.

I want to be able to tell somebody this crap, but I know I can't. Moving on.

School's been good. I've finally taken that AP exam and a mighty weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Besides the girl Katie who chewed gum the entire exam behind me and the kid who essentially ate his pen cap noisily; it was good inside the exam. I heard the three bands play loudly in the auditorium. Generally, I can work pretty well through noise, but I couldn't this time. They're really good though. If it was during another time, I would have really enjoyed just listening to them.

Jaxson is quietly sleeping on the cold tile next to the red foot rest. He really likes sleeping on tile. He's twenty-eight pounds now. I love him so much. I feel like I have more reason to be pro-active. I have another to protect.

I had a badminton party tonight. We're Conference Champs! We haven't won anything for badminton since '75. That's thirty-six years. What now!? Coach said that our banner is so old that they're getting us a brand new one. I'm so happy.

I've never really felt a whole team unity before; I have experienced it today. It's a good feeling.

nuxx.

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.

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.