New Beginnings

So I've started writing this story with Jules, one that's already half finished and kind of developed, but the girl who was doing it with her flaked out on her and she really wanted to finish the story so she asked me to help her, but i'm terrible at writing fiction, i guess she must have been desperate, but I decided to do it because I want to get better at writing in general, which means fiction as well, but I'm kind of scared because there are already these people who have read this story that Jules and that other girl have written so far, and review it and love it, but Jules said not to worry too much about it cause it's not that big of a deal, in fact, someone told me that all you have to do is write something down, she said, I guess to make me feel better, but it didn't, it made me lose a bit of motivation, and it didn't make me any less scared, strange readers on the internet can be uber critical but so far they have been really supportive of me stepping in for that other girl, who they apparently adored, others were honest and said they were disappointed that Jules had replaced her, but said they'd give me a chance, and I was like, okay, that's good, I guess, that they're going to give me a chance, and I really like the story that they've written so far, so it's easy to jump in and write the way that i'd like to see the story go.

And I saw Inception today. Argued about the ending with my family. It was a little confusing, so I sort of lost interest a little and got a little bored, but the music made it exciting in a way, and I was on edge the entire time because I was still semi-aware of what was going on on the screen and for the majority of the movie they were running out of time, I just wasn't as invested as I thought I should be for a movie. I thought, what am I feeling, excited boredom? That's an oxymoron, for ya.

I've been feeling a lot of guilt about the littlest things lately. Like, I'll be snippy to someone or I won't spend enough time with someone, and I'll feel bad about it for a long time. So I've been trying a little harder to be more involved in the world lately. Watching what I say more carefully.

My dreams have gotten really specific. One time it was so bad that when I woke up, I thought I was still dreaming and had to check my phone to realize where I really was. I remember them in so much detail, I've been looking them up to see what they mean. So far, they've all had a pretty common theme. I'm losing a part of my true identity and feel out of control of my emotions. Which isn't great. But I don't think I can do anything about it. So I'm not going to worry about it.

On a lighter note, the dream interpreter site can be pretty entertaining. One night I had a dream I had lost my wallet and this is what it started out with,

"To dream that you lose your wallet, suggests that you need to be more cautious and careful about your spending and finances. You need to be more responsible with your money."

I thought, okay. That makes sense. But then it when on to say,

"Alternatively, losing your wallet, indicates that you are losing touch with your true identity. You are experiencing some anxiety over changes and uncertainties happening in your life."

Then I thought, okay, that kind of makes sense too, in a way. But which one is it? Because I'm terrible with money. But the other one makes sense too, because I'm going through a lot of changes. Curse you, dream interpreter. You have confused me even more.

Another realization before I go. I found out I have a slight social phobia. Which, if you know me, makes COMPLETE SENSE. I was self-diagnosed, sure. But I looked up the symptoms and I felt like I was reading my brain out on paper, er, screen?

Listen to this,

"Social phobia (also sometimes called social anxiety) is a type of anxiety problem. Extreme feelings of shyness and self-consciousness build into a powerful fear. As a result, a person feels uncomfortable participating in everyday social situations.

People with social phobia can usually interact easily with family and a few close friends. But meeting new people, talking in a group, or speaking in public can cause their extreme shyness to kick in.

With social phobia, a person's extreme shyness, self-consciousness, and fears of embarrassment get in the way of life. Instead of enjoying social activities, people with social phobia might dread them — and avoid some of them altogether."

THIS IS MY LIFE. I hope now that I know what's wrong with me I can do something about it.

Growing too fast.

I registered for classes a couple of days ago. I was excited. I felt like a college student.

But that got me thinking about the future and being on my own. All alone.

Then I started thinking about how bad I am with money.

Then I realized how much I'd hate to be poor for the rest of my life.

Before all this I thought I'd marry rich or something, I don't know why, though, because there's really nothing about me that a rich guy would want. But I thought I'd live a comfortable life with my future husband while I got to write and dream and someday make a little money off of my work.

But this week got me thinking that I should probably stop thinking like this. I need to take care of myself. In every single way.

I've also learned that I need to enjoy the time I have now. It's the only thing keeping me sane.

I think it'll be fine.

Or, at least that's what I'm hoping for.

Remembering.

It's funny what you remember when you're lying in bed at 4 am, sick and starving because you ate food, just the wrong kind.

I should have looked at him when we were dancing. Maybe then he would have told me that I looked pretty.

I want to write so bad I can feel words on the tips of my fingers burning to get out. I just wish I had some motivation. I wish I had more faith in my work. But I just end up hating everything I write down.

I'll keep trying, though.

Time to Think.

I was really dreading summer. Like almost so much that I couldn't stand the idea of it.

But I've come to realize summers have made me who I am today. All the constant time in my head, alone, has made me crazy. But I like to think it's the good kind of crazy. The kind people can laugh at. And the kind I can laugh at too.

I'm kind of okay with who I am.

Not entirely, of course. But I like to think I like myself more than some people I know.

I think a part of me knows I won't be doing anymore changing for a while. I'm pretty much stuck with myself.

I do wish that I could change my perspective on some things.

For example, I wish I could realize that it doesn't matter how much weight I carry around my stomach or my face or my arms because deep down I know that's not really the problem that I have. I've seen plenty of people get passed their insecurities and find people that are good and who are good for them. There's something else that's wrong, something I can't see yet. I just hope that I can figure out what's wrong soon enough. And hopefully, I'll be able to fix it.

Having too much time to think isn't such a bad thing now.

I just wish I had more things that I could read.

And Another

I can't wait for this day to be over.


I'll Find Something Better

I would marry you for your family.

You’re sugar powder
I’ll breathe in,
choke while you trip
into the wrong hole,
and then stand up again:
surprise me with your stamina.

Swerving off the road,
I’ll laugh;
you’re a joke I’ve heard before.

I’ll get sick spinning
on tire swings
not made for us,
grasping its ropes
like it’s holding us together.

Another

We love in holy positions.

You catch a glance
of my profile
I pray you won’t notice
my stubby nose
flattened from years
spent in Junior High,
drilling stares into quary tiles,
my head on the desk in study hall;
hope you won’t be put off
by my protruding upper lip
cascading, noticeably condescending.

“Do you think he likes me?”
she’ll weigh me down
with her answer
like leftover spaghetti at 3 am,
put me back where I belong—
dreaming of broken tiles
locked in the second floor bathroom.

Some Ideas

Once I was Giantess.

How could I tell him
I felt nothing
while his arms wrapped
silk bows around my waist
No, I felt nothing
except the part of his neck
where I nestled my painted thumbs,
I used them to send messages
down his rectangular body
Dot dot dash dash
What can I tell you?
I thought it’d get easier
Once we were closer


And it did,
in a way:
the same way it’s easy to learn
you’ve settled your entire life.
I keep waiting for something
(someone)
To consume me
Flood my insides
Warmer than blood,
It’s easy to bleed.
I expected
too much from him.

Can't Change Mine

Bad week bad week bad week bad week bad week bad week bad week bad week bad week.

I want to bury my head in pillows and drown in feathers. Or stuffing. Which ever is quicker.

I don't even know what I need. I guess that's the worst part.

I fucking hate it when people open my mail.

Aging

Last night I was freaking out that I was turning 19.

But then I thought, no one else cares, I probably shouldn't either.

A-DORABLE.

I'm supposed to be doing something else right now.

But I feel like drowning in LCD Soundsystem and Mew.

I wish I was Someone Great.

I AM A POET

I think sometimes that the right poem has the ability to make you think in a completely different way.

A Better Tomorrow.

I think I wrote a poem in my head for you.
I hope it comes out on here how I hope it does.

If I had a nickel for every time
Someone has tried to cheer me up
when all I wanted to do
was soak my feet in pity stew
that God has made especially for me
I think I might be as rich
as white chocolate truffles
during Christmas time.

So when someone leans their head
on my shoulder,
my first thought is how much
I like to watch my toes wrinkle
in bubbling hot sadness
"Don't say anything.
Sometimes people just want
you to be there."

But I can tell it's more than that:
I just don't know what to say.

But I know that if I could find
the perfect words
they would be encrusted
with the finest jewels
and I would break my teeth
biting down on them
making sure that they were
the real thing.
I would wrap them in bows and ribbons,
watch your eyes squint
until they disappeared--
because I was the one who gave them to you.

If I found the right thing to say
I think everything would be okay for once.

And I'll Sing My Little Heart Out...

I wish I knew how to sing.

If I could, this is what I would sing:

"Letters To Noelle"
By Something Corporate

Letters to Noelle
Marked up cardboard boxes fell
I fell with them
Crushed like them I am
Letters to Noelle
Years of waiting, nothing fading
Emptied out my pen
Carved the rest into my hand
Letters to Noelle
Written from my darkest cell
Filling up my wishing well
Waiting on their return
But the driveway's clear
You pray for silence
Step into my quiet violence
Do you see pictures in my words?
Standing still, I'm moving faster
Searching out my next disaster
You're gonna get what you deserve
Letters to Noelle
I see them in a box inside a case
That she keeps locked up in a place
I'll never be
Letters to Noelle
I emptied out my veins onto a page
Set to a scream you just can't gauge
She cannot see what's inside of me
But the driveway's clear
You pray for silence
Step into my quiet violence
Do you see pictures in my words?
Standing still, I'm moving faster
Searching for my next disaster
You're gonna get what you deserve
But the driveway's clear
You pray for silence
Step into my quiet violence
She smiles, takin' off her shirt
Standing still, this world moves faster
On her back my next disaster
You're gonna get what you deserve
But the driveway's clear
You pray for silence
Step into my quiet violence
Do you see pictures in my words?
Standing still, I'm moving faster
Searching out my next disaster
You're gonna get what you deserve
Letters to Noelle
Tied on ribbons in my brain
Obsession don't give way to pain
I know that nowI know that now.

Andrew McMahon is a poet.

Don't Make This Easy, I Want You To Mean It

So, today I found out that there is another person with my exact name.
First, middle, and last.
Apparantly, she lives in Texas.
She's the second wife of a man named Kevin and has a daughter named Samantha.

Which is really odd, because I have a sister named Samantha.

The internet scares me. IT KNOWS EVERYTHING.

Sometimes I Think I'm White

I'm not white.

I think that's why I got into this one college.

It's a college that I really wanted to go to, so I guess it's okay.