Monday, December 10, 2012

Friday, December 7, 2012

Having the most "oh-well" kind of a day. Even my writing is oh-well-worthy. And now that it's time for me to be tired I'm going to do laundry and clean my bathroom.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Wishin I wasn't so terrible at keeping friends.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

I always come up with the most half-vindictive half-hilarious ways to get revenge, but my too-nice mindset won't let me. I want to show up at his house in tears, while his new "not really hot OR cute" girl is there, and pull him aside (but not so far aside she can't hear) and tell him, "Hey, so, I'm pregnant with your kid; I remember everything you told me though, less than three weeks ago, mind you... You know, how you loved me, and you would wait for me, and you didn't want anyone else; and I want to let you know that I am ready to take this step with you." AHHH IN YOUR FACE! I'm so funny. cx

Sunday, November 11, 2012


THAT exact moment. That's what I want to remember. If I had the power to freeze time and make feelings last forever, I would have done it right then and there. My heart was so full.


It's a good thing we have things like birthday cakes and presents to remind us how old we are, or I would still think I'm 12 years old.


So I get scared and choke my dream of a picture-perfect family and accept a newer, easier, & more tragic fate of a forever single cat lady.


His world was spinning & he reminded her that he usually starts saying things he regrets around 1am & she gently reminded him, it's usually closer to 3 or 4 but with alcohol in his bloodstream it could be earlier, so he should probably get some sleep.


I knew I didn't have much of a social life anymore but I didn't realise it had escalated to the point of my perfect day including nobody but me & John Wesley Harding (whom I'll probbaly call Wezwee).


Then I laid in bed thinking about my puny life and woke up feeling like someone strapped me to a stainless steel counter and force-fed me black liquorice through a syringe. The world is extremely lacking in colour today.


I wish you'd love me back so we can do cute things like hold hands and leave each other notes in special hiding places & raid grocery stores & make ourselves bowls of cereal in the middle of the night and then go eat them in a fort we made that smells of attic and that's constructed of old refrigerator boxes.


Today was better, though. Today was actually so good.


& YOU. Don't you ever tell you me love me ever again. Ever.


My mind keeps revolving around this idea of the "false self," this "imposter," a mask we put up for the world to see while we let no one know our true selves... Where do we draw the line between who we are and who we want to prove ourselves to be?


See, this is why I find journaling to still be so relevant to my life in the world if blogs and tweets and Facebook statuses (stati?)...


I'm having one of those days. Those days where I have a trillion thoughts bouncing 'round in my head, but I don't want to take the time or effort to have to explain them or even try to understand them.


Regardless, I'm still in a good mood. Good enough to use different colors again when I write.


Why did I just do that? To remind myself of the youthful, sweet hopefulness that is now just a distant memory? As "inspiration" to get my effing head on straight again? Out of embarrassment that I once actually thought it was possible to think and live that way? Well. Welcome to the real world.


I don't want to look back on my life in 30 years and see that I passed up an opportunity to feel truly alive.


Proclaiming loudly the name of Him whom I do not know is dangerous territory, methinks.


I always have loved looking back on old times I've had with fun people, and seeing how my perspective on life switches as I mature.


I got totally rid of my MySpace today, ah! I don't know what to do with myself.


You know life must suck hard when the current highlight of it is when the hottie of AI makes it through to top 12.




Like seriously, I see him and I get butterflies and my heart pretty much explodes.


It already cost me 4 hours, a bruise on my neck and $160.

Saturday, November 10, 2012


But it's kinda like a "nanna nanna boo boo I am who I am and you need to leave me alone and stop trying to mold me into who you want me to be."


I have no way to explain how I'm really feeling right now. I guess there's a little bit of everything. I'm shocked, upset, sad,..... I don't know.


So then Aspen's freaking out because she thinks Mom & Dad are, like, gonna kill Gus & starts bawling then Aidan starts it, too & then I'm trying to calm them both down, all the while wondering what in the world were they gonna do w/ Gus & peroxide...


And, he said (notice this is in quotes) "very nice" eyes & "an amazing voice."


I've been reading, but I've been reading for an interminable amount of time and now I'M BORED OUT OF MY SKULL!!

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Literally all I want to do is sleep. I want to close my eyes and forget everything because too much of it reminds me of you. Canadian accents and Michael Buble and Michigan and this shirt, and that place, and sometimes I roll over on my right side and half-expect, half-hope to see your face. At the same time, though, I refuse to let myself forget because those memories are all I have left.

Sunday, September 23, 2012


- like, legitimately writing, with a pen and a pencil - so much, you guys.

And yet, here I sit; it's one o'clock in the morning, I got nine hours of sleep last night and the fact that I'm still able to even form complete thoughts that don't sound like "mmmmmmmmgrunjk" as a result is kind of throwing me off, but I feel like I can't even do anything with them because they're all coming at me so fast, from all sorts of different directions, and are invisible until they punch my brain in the face, like Roxy Richter. My fingertips can't move that fast.

I had a whole checklist of things to accomplish after my 20th birthday and I haven't even looked at it.

My mind ninjas are forever rendering me helpless.

Thursday, April 12, 2012


The sun is filling up the room, and I can hear you dreaming
Do you feel the way I do right now?
I wish we would just give up 'cause the best part is falling
Call it anything but love

And I will make sure to keep my distance
Say I love you when you're not listening
How long can we keep this up?

Please don't stand so close to me, I'm having trouble breathing
I'm afraid of what you'll see right now
I'd give you everything I am - all my broken heartbeats
Until I know you'll understand

And I will make sure to keep my distance
Say I love you when you're not listening
How long can we keep this up?

And I keep waiting
For you to take me
You keep waiting
To save what we have

So I'll make sure to keep my distance
Say I love you when you're not listening
How long can we keep this up?

How long 'til we call this love?

Sunday, April 8, 2012



Now all I can think about is how wonderful it'd be to cuddle at this moment in time.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

As of late.

i just want to burrow even deeper into the corners of my own mind, get cozy, & sleep until i'm twenty.
i don't know in which ways i think my life will improve by then, but i figure if i sleep for almost six months, when i wake up, everybody i know will have either moved on or moved out. maybe i can toss a pair of pants, a jar of peanut butter, & an ukulele in a backpack & tiptoe out of my life & into someone else's.
some successful journalist who lives in a busy city & has a smile for everyone but time for no one except her bernese mountain dog named john wesley harding & her every-tuesday phone call to her parents.
she dreams big & actually does something about it. she doesn't just talk about africa. she takes money out of her bank account, time off of work, & travells the world.
she'll get all dolled up on any given saturday & go out, even though she has no strong arm to wrap her delicate fingers around.
she sits poised at the bartop & makes easy conversation with everyone who approaches her, & will sometimes let charming young men buy her a martini - just one, though, & she never goes home with any of them, because she's a lady who understands she can't trust or be trusted.
at the end of the night, she looks out the window at the same city, sometimes tinged with different watercoloured hues but always the same canvas. she's not sad about it, though. that's the thing. she's not lonely, she's content, she's whole; nothing's missing.
the last thing she thinks about before her dreams silently steal her away always leaves her smiling. no one knows what it is except for john wesley. she'll whisper secrets sometimes into his big, warm fuzzy ears, 'cause she knows he couldn't possibly tell anyone else or make her cry later & wish she hadn't shared that part of herself.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

I prayed for you tonight.

I prayed that someday you'll realize what it is you're looking for, that you'll chase after it, and that it will give you the same sort of fulfillment and overflowing joy a beached whale probably feels when it miraculously finds its way back to the ocean, if whales are even capable of emotions of that capacity.
That someday you'll meet someone who will knock you flat on your back - in the best way possible, of course. That she'll mend all of the broken pieces of your heart, and that you'll let her.
That someday you'll associate the word "Father" with so much more than the absentee who impregnated your mother and sent you thirty colored pencils for Christmas.
That someday you'll be able to see yourself the way He sees you.
That someday, somehow, He'll let you know that someone out there sees you as someone worth fighting for.
I prayed that someday I'll be able to let you rest in His arms instead of my heart.
All of the memories, the feelings, last February - that I'll be able to let all of it go.
And I prayed that all of these somedays will happen very soon.

"Is anyone crying for help? God is listening,
ready to rescue you.
If your heart is broken, you'll find God right there;
if you're kicked in the gut, he'll help you catch your breath."
~ Psalm 34: 17&18