why does it feel so good but hurt so bad?

I'm searching for excuses to fill my Smoothie King addiction. I just spent the last ten minutes looking up the health benefits to smoothies and bullshit. I just want to feel like I'm purging my system.

I mean, they don't really mention anything unhealthy, just the turbinado. Primarily, it's all fruits and natural juices.

Anyway.

It's so strange being a senior on the badminton team. I never really thought I'd actually make it here. Well, you know, of course I did, it's expected. But, now that it's here, it's really surreal. Like, the freshmen on the team this year are looking at me as the untouchable senior. They won't remember me past sophomore year, but occasionally they're come to mind. (It happens with me with my own senior class as a freshman. Fuck you, Arielle).

Today, Sam sent me a text message, out of the blue, saying, "I actually love you" and of course, I reacted as, "what did i do" because honestly I never know what I do to warrant a message like that.

And then she responded, "you are like my big sister". I just thought that was probably the nicest thing someone has said to me.

I'm trying really hard to be a mentor, a good one. I'm trying to teach people how not to freak out on the court and be better. I want to practice with people and teach them.

I break the badminton silence rule every day.

i swear i'll never wrong you again

It's funny. Death has always crossed my mind, not in the sense of suicide or murder, but just the idea of it. The idea of perhaps crawling into your bed and quietly passing into the black, never to return to the sun. Yet, it knocks on my doorstep (not mine, per se, but you get the general idea) and I can't run fast enough from it. I want to run towards it, ward it away and bar it from the world, but I'm no Winchester and I'm no angel.

Grandpa is dying; Grandma is gaunt. I am powerless, seeking answer in God who seems to have His line on busy.

For the first time, I broke down in public, in front of Oriani, Kuster, DelGuidice and Tiffany. I didn't mean to, I swear. But for whatever reason, I express emotion around my family and it's all a joke. I've just been so used to cooping up my emotions that when someone shows genuine concern, I play it off as a joke. All I know is that the more I do it, the cracks begin to spider and eventually I do crack.

I know I have people I could talk to if necessary, but I can't really talk to people about my problems. I rant into a fucking pixel board.

Honestly: I want to talk about it. I don't want to cry in front of people. Crying is weakness and a sign of hopelessness. I don't want to have no hope.

Kellie asked me after Inkspots if I was okay. Apparently I looked distraught. And what did I say? "I always look distraught."

"You look worried about something."

"We have to get to practice."

Yeah, I'm a tumblr basket case. If you ask me if something's wrong, I say, "I'm tired.". If you ask me how I'm feeling, I'll respond, "Fine" but on some stupid smile that I've mastered at doing and go back to doing whatever I was doing.

I just wish I could look at my grandparents without feeling like crying all the time.

Light up, light up, as if you have a choice

My computer is breaking, so I've been off it recently. My iPad has been a life saver.

I went out with Janelle, Michael and Tiffany to The Witches Brew for an overpriced meal. I mean, it always delivers, but I'm a cheap bastard these days.

I'm more frustrated with the fact that it's impossible for me to hang out with any of these friends of mine because they're chronic cancellors. Granted, they can't do much about it, but you figure they would tell their parents they have something planned and they'd work around it. I guess not.

So, I spend my weekends watching Supernatural, fawning over Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles. I'm hoping I meet someone in college who loves this show as much as I do.

It bothers the hell out of me that Tiffany complains about all these people but does nothing to remedy the situation. You are not obligated to continue hanging out with them, Jesus Christ.  I feel like a broken record, telling people the same things because they won't listen to me.

Claudia is pissing me off too. Unfortunately, I can't drop her like I usually do people because I have my off-period with her and lunch. Yay, my socializing hours are clogged with people I despise. 

Janelle asked me if Michael was okay, so I honestly responded to her and told her that he's not bad, but he's not fine, either. I told her not to make it a big deal and she went to go talk to Nuzzi about it. I don't know why I bother speaking anymore.

Especially with Nina and Inkspots. Jesus Christ, man. I ask you to do something, something which involves PUBLISHING YOU in the magazine and you throw me some bullshit. She's so wrapped up in her fucking head I can't even believe it. 

I don't understand why following a request is so difficult. 

I'm so fucking tired. 

under your thumb.

I just needed to get this out here.

There's this kid I've known for about three years now, always been in my science classes. I met him when I was a sophomore and he was a freshman. I'm talking to him right now and he's telling me how he's going into the military straight after high school.

It's really weird because this kid is younger than I and I don't really know.

He's a good kid, I don't think most people see it.

Go navy, though.

girls like mystery.

Last night I went out to the Witches Brew with Janelle and Michael. It was nice to hang out with them. I had an amazing sandwich that burnt the top of my mouth, but entirely worth it. I had a papaya passion fruit tea drink and I finally got to relax after the past hellish week. I was exhausted, I still am, but again, it was nice to hang out with them.

It's been so liberating since Michael got his license. There's so many places we can go now without our parents hounding us down. I mean, of course we have to be back by a certain time, but you can push that further blaming it on waiters, traffic, you name it. We were out until about 12:30.

It was a taste of freedom and it was nice.

I made them listen to The Vaccines. They are so good, it hurts.

Michael wants to come with Brenna and I to see them. The only problem is that we always go front and Michael doesn't really like crowds. I don't want to ditch him, but The Vaccines are so much fun live. I couldn't give up the opportunity to be shoved up against a bunch of sweaty people, jumping around to "Wrecking Bar (Ra Ra Ra"). The little things.

However, I just wish he would stop berating me for choosing Manhattan College. I don't understand why he's hounding me for it. I don't really want to go to Ithaca anymore, but I keep it as an option because I haven't committed to Manhattan yet. He keeps making fun of the fact that I'd be living in the Bronx; his mother asking him why I want to live in the Bronx. It's the same question I ask myself, why would he want to live in Rochester?

He's not supportive of me, yet I have been supportive of him. I just don't understand sometimes.

I can't tell if he's just mad because I won't be two hours away from him, but six to seven hours away.

Whatever.

I think I'm getting sick. I've been drinking a lot more green tea to load my body with antioxidants. I hope it works.

try sleeping with a broken heart.

I am tired.

I am excited.

I am ready to live.

It's a brand new year and I have been pretty neutral recently. I haven't really been angry, particularly happy or sad. There's something liberating about being a blank slate. I have been accepted to all my colleges and I have my heart set on Manhattan College in Riverdale. I can't believe I'm graduating this year. In six months, I will be a high school graduate. In six months, I will never have to enter the high school for educational purposes again. In six months, I will be considered a legal adult.

In seven months, I will be preparing for going away to college. In seven months, I will be wrapping up my work at Key Food and solidifying my ties there so I have a job during the winter break.

I don't know, I feel like I have worked out a lot about the future. I'm not as afraid of what the future brings, simply because I've planned to lay out a solid groundwork to propel myself forward.

There has been no self-loathing, but no self-loving.

I've been trying to spend more time with my parents just because I know I won't be home next year to do so. That makes me sad.

I've been trying to stay out of Catherine' hair simply because she's going through her British fandoms right now. I remember going through that, too. It's a frightening time. Only, she has it for the worst things of British-decent and likes about ten thousand more things than I did. That and Taylor Swift. For obvious reasons, it's just easier to avoid that than directly confront it.

Everyone is worrying about prom, but I could really care less. I'm not really sure if I'm even going to go. My parents didn't go to their prom so I really don't feel any incentive to go. Our school throws really crap dances, so I don't feel like I'd be missing out on anything other than the after party. That's the only thing I'm looking forward to, but you can't go to the after-party if you didn't go to the party, right?

I'm more concerned about Janelle going to college and dorming somewhere. She's beginning to confide in me more and I'm glad she trusts me.

I want to stay close with all my friends once we go to college, but I know we all suck at correspondence. I promised Tiffany that I'd buy those weird BIGBANG postcards and send them to her sporadically with no message on them.

Oh, right. I saw BIGBANG in Newark on November 9th, 2012.

I had a nightmare that my guidance counselor forgot to tell me I needed an extra credit to graduate and I had to redo senior year. If I didn't graduate with my class, I would cry. I know I hate about 98% of them, but they're my class. I want to graduate with them.

put a wetsuit on.

I believe I am happy. I can fully enjoy life, knowing that it has all these wonders for me to enjoy. I understand that there will be ups and downs, but again, that's life. You trek through and you enjoy the fruits of your labour.

You meet some oddballs, you handle them. You press on, like a good soldier.

When I get down, I always tell myself that good soldiers always march on. I want to be a good soldier, so I hold my head up high and work hard. Other people say I don't work hard at all, but work to the point where I physically sicken myself. (Physics? I studied to the point where looking at the review packet made me ill. I only got one question wrong on the part one).

I'm a pessimistic though, as a safety net. I'd love to think that the world is entirely good, but it's not. It's not even a matter of turning on the news, it's an understanding of reality. Pessimism is viewing the world as it actually is (some say depression, I say pessimism).

The leaves in the fall are red, yellows and purples, yet they will die like everyone else will. The blue in the sky brightens the colours in our eyes, but it too, fades into a black. The stars never really light up the sky like they do in the movies. They only fade.

The universe is pulling apart as we speak.