changling

i love: the changing leaves. the cold weather. the holidays. upcoming snow. vermont friends. gaining freedom. sleeping late. getting okay grades. buying dresses. running when it’s cool. getting thinner. sleeping over. little neighbors. painted nails. snuggling. hot chocolate with fluff. nice parents.

on the other hand: having to rake. freezing in school. having no clothes to wear. stupid drama. feeling like i’m not good enough. waking up at 6 every day. feeling stressed all the time. feeling fat. getting yelled at. doing nothing. ap biology. honors english. american history L1. honors precal. honors spanish. not being able to carol in voices. feeling useless. failing.

fuck

that was not fun. i don’t remember things. i threw up. alot. i feel gross. i’m embarrassed. i’m never doing that again, even though that’s what i said last time, and this time was twice as bad. i should’ve stopped, but i didn’t. i don’t like having to be force-fed water when all i wanna do is lie down on the pavement and sleep. i don’t like being babied by my other father of a friend, even though i love him cause he cares so much. all i remember is looking at you while you were making me stay awake. you looked so scared. worried. you and your blue eyes. i want to be able to remember how i slept. i don’t want to hear about it from other people. goddamnit. yeah. i just used the lords name in vain. wanna scold me? not you tess.. sorray. that was an interesting night to say the least. we must abide by plausible deniability. what happens at ya house. is supposed to stay at your house. even something as awkward as the boys and you. this year is out of control. i drank cause i was upset last weekend. alone. i never told anyone. not that anyone reads this..so it’s basically the same thing. i didn’t get drunk. just a little spacey. that’s what this year is doing to me. fuck school. fuck work. fuck cindy wallace. fuck working 9 1/4 hours on my fucking saturday. i can’t deal with it all. and no matter how much i keep saying that, i’m not going to do anything about it. so yeh. that’s my life. i hate the word “yeh” i meant to write yeah. does leaving that one letter out really help anyone?

http://www.flickr.com/photos/carolsbored25/

for all my avid readers….

friends?

why should i be crying…i shouldn’t. and you shouldn’t fucking tell me off about how i’m supposed to act in the middle of a fucking restaurant. don’t tell me i act like a mom, because you don’t know the half of it. don’t tell me to “live my life,” because i’m sorry i’m not a sorry-ass idiot of a kid with zero responsibility. i can’t live like that. i’m sorry i’m not a stupid boy that can go around causing scenes because “that’s just what boys do.” no. girls are supposed to be respectful. put-together. in control. yeah, if i were to shout at the top of my lungs in a restaurant, i would not get disapproving-yet-laughing looks. i would just get disgusted, what-are-you-doing looks. i’m sorry i can’t shoot stupid balled up napkins into people sodas, that would look dumb. i’m sorry if i get embarrassed by your guys’ dumb-ass antics, and i try to stop you. i don’t think i’m fucking better than you. that’s bullshit. i don’t think i’m more mature, i know it. just because you go out partying all the time, drinking, smoking, doesn’t make you fucking mature. it makes you an idiot with nothing better to do but throw your life away. i’m sorry i want to get into a good school, therefore i actually need to try in highschool. sorry i want to end up with a good career. fuck you.

the duel made me sleepy

despite stress. i’m excited for this year. remember everything that happens in a year? i’m so ready for the leaves to change. for the temperature to fall. for snow to come. to make hot chocolate and watch the stars while wearing snow clothes so you never ever have to go inside, you might as well sleep out on the roof. i want to snowboard again because god knows there’s absolutely no better feeling than bombing down canyon after a night full of fresh powder, speeding down at 25 mph with nothing to stop you. i want to be able to ditch everything and just drive a couple hours to paradise. forget about school. drama. work. stress. all of it. nothing but friends and snow. maybe some pool. i want to dress up like an idiot on the 31st of october and run around with all the 5-year-old, asking for candy. i want to stuff my face so full of sweets that i wake up with acne the next morning. i want to dress up and get all pretty in a short dress and dumb heels that i’m going to take off after 30 minutes and dance the night away with you. as awful as it sounds, i want to get so drunk i just don’t care anymore. i want to say things that are stupid and do things that are even stupid-er. i want to drive around and blast shitty music all around guilford, and count the number of dirty looks i get at stoplight and from those stupid people running in the road. i want to celebrate another year of life in this place we call guilford. i want t0 watch the ball drop and sip champagne at the stroke of midnight, and i want to celebrate with my friends for the first time in my life. i want to turn 17, not because it comes with any special benefits, but just cause it means i’m that much closer to finally experiencing the world. i want to travel to spain and asia and antarctica. i want to learn to speak three different languages. i want to not stress out of the dumbest things in the world. i want to be happy for the first time since june of this year. one can only hope.

i always feel..

fat. bored. hungry. nervous. stressed. lame. confused. ugly. dumb. failing. flawed. not good enough. selfish. stupid. unruly. ridiculous. controlling. weak. ashamed. hidden.

yeah…whatevs.

moon

i missed playing the piano. i didn’t even realize how much i missed it until just now. ┬ábut it feels so good playing again. it’s just like warm fuzziness everywhere. don’t know why i even stopped in the first place.

george winston is my hero.