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2016-02-18 01:56:23 (UTC)

Musings (Not The Interesting Kind)

"Sleepy Eyes" by Marcy Playground

But you're not around
I'm riding a ghost
You're already gone

**And I wake up to a cold day
Just another in a long line
Of cold days**
But you're just a dream
I'm walking alone
And I should have known

**You'd find another soul mate
I'm just another in a long line
Of soul mates**

February 18, 2016 Thursday 1:02 AM

I have an echo-y headache. The kind that puts a bad sort of taste in your mouth and makes your head feel too light, like your brain went and left you. Yeah. It's milder than it sounds. I'm not in severe pain or anything. I am simply noting its existence. Hello, headache. Welcome to the world!

Jesus, what am I talking about?

I freak myself out. Yesterday I spent literally THE entire day writing. As in hours. I had to force myself to stop and eat. See, that kind of scares me??? I get really into it and suddenly I can't stop myself and I just go on and on and on... It's better when I'm home alone. When my mom's home and she sees me typing away, she thinks I'm doing something mindless and tells me to get off the computer.

Which, okay, I see her point. But then there's so much in my head and it's nice because this stuff isn't really ABOUT me. I want to get it out. Let it be... free and shit. Okay. I got bored of this subject.

I texted Liv something weird a half an hour ago and I don't know if she'll understand?

It was this:

sometimes I wanna say
stuff to you but I
can't :///// like I'm pretty
sure I physically can't it's
weird :////// hmm. I miss

What I meant is this: at that moment, I wanted her to just be here? Because I want to cry. On her shoulder, to be exact. Her real, physical shoulder. Not the metaphorical one.

I'm not even sad! That's the... the fucking weird ass thing about this whole thing! I am perfectly content!!!

But I want to cry. Want to release something. Because, yes, I know it's there, I know it's waiting for me to get too tired to hold it back. Like a fucking animal.

(Hey, you know that plant my momma bought me a couple weeks back? I'm naming it Benjamin, after my flower spider who is regretfully dead. Although I'm pretty sure Benji had a kid. I saw a spider in the window the other day, among all the old webs)

There are times in which I kind of just want to kill myself. Short times. A blink and it's gone. But they're there. Just a split split split second of exhaustion, of thinking that there's too much ahead of me and I won't be able to do it all.

Too!!! Much!!! Pressure!!!

I've made a decision. Just now. Literally just now. If I don't make it into that science program, which is pretty likely, I will focus on art and writing during my entire senior year. I'm tired of this. I always kind of knew that's where I'd end up. Kind of.

I mean, I'm still a bit unsure because of the extreme curiosity I have when it comes to cutting shit open. To figuring out how it works. I want to DO that so bad. I want to get my hands dirty, bloody.

But yeah. I'll focus on art. Take some easier classes. Maybe that way I can get a job. I've always wanted to work at a library. Or an animal shelter, though I think the last one would be volunteer work.

This all seems far-fetched. Most likely, I'll end up sitting on my ass and that thought makes me so sad.

"So sad"

I'm wearing a dead expression. My emotions did not dip or rise when I said that. Maybe the mild hopelessness was already there.

On an unrelated note, I think I'm pretty which is sort of comforting except not really because it doesn't help much. I still see the rotten bits. That's so much worse. I want to be alone.

My head's all buzzy. The headache is gone. THat or I've gotten used to it. I wonder if I'm any good. As a writer I mean.

Whole world a hospital???... Sorry that's a question for Cold War Kids.

I want to tell you about this odd emptiness, but it's so... hard... what with this imaginary fly in my mind. Something.. is wrong. Is missing. Is off. Like when my vision slid that one time, when it slanted to the side and it seemed like nothing was where it was supposed to be.

A human would be nice right about now. I wish people wouldn't love me so much. I can handle being liked by a few people, like four or five, but more than that sort of kills me.

I don't think I have room in my heart. It's weird, I have a shitload of empathy for lots of people, but I can't seem to really care about them either??? Sometimes I can. Ugh. I can't explain.

I just. Please, please, please stop liking me so much. I'm not worth it, for one thing. Second... I have no second. Just stick with the first. This doesn't apply to everyone. Some people I want to keep.

I feel bad. (Not really, I'm just saying that. On the surface I suppose I don't feel great about it but deep down, I really really really don't care).

I haven't been paying Lily and Laney enough attention. I really think they're starting to get annoyed with me, and with Liv too because Liv gets more of my time than they do. Liv's my best friend. Of course she does.

But then, they were my best friends, have been my best friends for years. Still. It's hard to explain. I love them and all, but my relationships with them were hollow sometimes.

I remember talking about this with Pat a long time ago. She said I needed some more friends, people who were more like me. I have very little in common with Laney, more in common with Lily but there's always something separating us. An invisible barrier.

In comes Liv with her natural ability to make anyone feel important. Liv, who, for some strange reason REALLY wanted to get to know me. She came on sort of strong but that was for the best. That's what I need. I'm kind of oblivious sometimes. Even if on some level, I'm aware of affection, I convince myself that it's not possible to avoid disappointment.

Yeah, well. Liv's there. There are no boundaries with Liv. Well, barely anyway. There's no reason to try with her, she doesn't need my effort. This is why I give her so much of my time!!!

(I seriously wish she lived next door to me. If she did, I think I'd hang out with her every fucking day until we both sort of hated each other)

I'm not good enough for any of my friends, god damn it. I can't choke out the words. I can't show them how much I seriously fucking love them.

Like Adrian. I feel so terrible because I KNOW what I was doing. I KNOW I was being an asshole to him, I know I was trying to keep him away from me even when he was the nicest person in the whole damn world. I don't think he trusts me now. I think I could've gained that trust if I weren't so... me.

But I was.

Again, I'm not upset or anything. I am simply thinking about these people. Thinking about what they do for me. And then thinking about how little I do for them.

I... don't want to be here, in this area of thought.


Boys are such strange things. So strange. How do they talk to one another?

I'm pretty sure the South Park creators said that they chose to be so vulgar because they wanted to show people how boys actually talk to each other. I found that so... weird.

I mean, I've heard guys' conversations. They're usually fucking weird. I don't remember. Mostly insults, but playful ones. Conversations with my friends are kind of like that too sometimes. With Lily at least.

There are gay jokes and if the guys are decent they embrace them (as in, "dude you're gay," and then dude goes "hell yeah I'm gay," even when he's not??? that's not a good example but it gets the point across).

Yet again, I have the somewhat disturbing urge to just.... watch people. Like behind a one-way glass window with a clipboard propped up on my hip and a pen in the pocket of my lab coat. I just want to watch them. Watch them interact, live their daily lives... it's fascinating.

Not that I will ever do that. I may be creepy on the inside, but I can't even comfortably stalk people on Facebook okay. No way in hell will I ever stalk anyone in real life without their permission. Is it stalking if you have permission? Whatever.

Same with murder, by the way. Only I probably wouldn't murder anyone even if I were allowed, unless they were trying to kill me. In that case... I'll go for the carotid artery. Sorry, first one I could think of. That's in your thigh, right? No, that's the femoral artery. Carotid is by the jugular vein???? Yes.

Veins, veins, veins. I've got trees on my wrists.

Okay I should seriously go. I have another field trip tomorrow. Meekah can't go. I'm surprisingly anxious about that. Anxious because I know I'll be fucking sitting alone whenever we have free time :/ unless I somehow manage to make friends which is unlikely.

I'm not exactly a friendly person.


Dude!!! I need to stop listening to sad music!!!!!! I keep thinking about the missing bits it's awful!!!!!!!!!!


I like it when my forearms hurt while I'm playing piano.
I like it when I write all day and I feel satisfied.
I like it when I wake up early and do the dishes.
I like it when it rains.
I like it when I look nice.
I like it when I'm comfortable.
I like it when I'm social and can be around other people. I mean I like when I have the energy to do that.
I like music, I like it so much. Probably more than I like myself. Sometimes, I wish music were something you could touch because if it were I'd clutch it, try and fuse with it.

I'm so so sorry. Agh, stop it self! Stop doing that! Ugh! Okay!

I'm in a good mood. :) That's not a lie, I promise you. I am weirdly separate from the rest of me, if that makes any sense. Oh yeah.

All this week I've felt strangely unreal???? Probably because I've been writing most of the time. But yeah. It's just... interesting. To me. Not to anyone else.

Gotta go. It seriously is late. Almost 2 AM.