I don't have many friends.
I like people, I really do.
I just don't trust them.

I'm more intrigued by them than anything, actually.
I've taken a liking to sitting in the background by myself observing what they do, and trying to figure out why they do it.
I feel like I'm deciphering a secret code nature has laid out for my pleasure.

Lately I've taken to sitting in some form of seclusion, picking my own habits apart.
But other people, strangers, they're much more exciting to decode.

There are certain perks to being an introvert, I suppose.
They say 'always watch the quiet ones'.
I have no hidden vindictive agenda, though. What you do is your business. You deserve no punishment for it.
I just find it so intriguing that sometimes.

I could never hate people. They may do awful things, but I think everyone has a personal battle that they're fighting behind closed doors. Everyone has their own reason for their own bizarre behavior.
I could never hate something that is so compelling.

I'm bored by everything lately.

happiness

It's not what you look for, rather how you look for it.

I believe that one can find a reason to smile in the most unusual places.

Inspiration lies everywhere. Just open yourself to it.

Don't set out on a search for inspiration or happiness; it's not buried treasure. It's treasure hidden in plain sight, just like anything else you desperately want to find.
It's the 'how', and people take that and turn it into this complicated process.

I don't understand what I do to deserve these things.

I actually don't like many people right now.
I don't feel like I have anyone who cares to hear what I have to say, or anybody that I can be honest with.

this weekend was hell for me and not a god damn person knows about it because nobody really cares.

so I figure, rather than being alienated, why not just start doing that job myself?
why not just withdraw from this facade called social networking?
why not shut my phone off for hours, even days at a time?

I'm frustrated. I'm PMSing. I don't want to be in school, and I don't want to be at my mom's.
I can hardly eat and I could probably cry at the drop of a hat right now.

My mother lives for money.
She and I have two very different opinions on it. I care more about enjoying life and being happy, and she cares more about how much money she's got and what she can ultimately do with it in order to be happy.
I think that that's far too artificial of an existence; to find happiness only through monetary value.
She gets very excited when the checkout woman forgets to ring up an item.
I want to share in her excitement, but I can't.
It breaks my heart.
She's done so many rotten things. I want to look at my mom and think "that's what I want to be when I'm older", and I can't.
I hate that I can't, because I feel like a bad daughter. I wish I wanted to spend time with her. I wish I could trust her. I wish she didn't have the problems that she does. But wishing isn't solving anything. I'm drained physically and emotionally. I've cried over it so many times. I'm crying now. Crying solves nothing.
I just have to accept that this is our relationship, that she is who she is, and no matter how badly I want to see her be a better person, or how badly I want to drag her out of this hole she's dug herself into, I can't. She's content there, somehow. And up here, on level ground, this is where I'm happy. I wish we were on a similar metaphorical level, but we aren't. This is what it is.

my name's Alannah.
I'm 20.
I pretend I'm happy sometimes so that I won't inconvenience anybody around me.

I wouldn't say that I want to kill myself, but I will say that I have recently hoped to get hit by a truck.

I take it back now, it sounds dreadful on a number of levels, more than just physical. but at the time, I wouldn't have minded one bit.



I feel like most people say that they want to be there for me just because they feel bad. then they realize it's not worth the trouble, and I don't blame them. I can't even help myself. I shouldn't become their burden.

I am drained. and I'm still sad that I'm disappointing people left and right. I think it's driving me deeper into this hole. I just want everyone to be happy. I feel like I shouldn't be until they're happy with me.

I hate this.

life's a funny thing.

Some days I wake up and think it's the most beautiful thing ever permitted to exist.
Other days, I wake up loathing it, wishing I was asked whether I wanted it or not, wondering why I have to go through the motions.

Life is terribly confusing.
I'm learning to take the good with the bad; washing the medicine down with a spoonful of sugar.
It's hard, though, some days.
I have a great life, but I think everyone suffers from their own degree of disappointment and frustration and even depression.
I'm at the bottom of this deep hole right now, and it's been a challenge to climb out of. Each day, though, I think I somehow get a little closer to the light.
Then again, sometimes the hole sinks a little further into the ground, and I cry in distress, staring at the bit of sun still peeking through, desperate to reach it again.


I suppose that it's when I stop looking for the bit of sun that I've got a real problem.

living.

I've been dying to leave the United States for a while. I love New York City more than I can say, but I think I deserve to experience beauty in other parts of the world.

I also wonder where I'll live someday. I dream of having an apartment in Greenwich Village, perhaps. But where to escape to when city life bombards you?

I've visited Arizona once, to see my godmother. An eccentric, but very insightful and beautiful person. I've had dreams of deserts since; standing in one, admiring the limitless amounts of sand and sky.

She said to me, once; "I always visited people living in these beautiful places, and I thought, well why can't I live somewhere beautiful?"

It's a good point. Those words "why can't I live somewhere beautiful?" have been replaying in my head for weeks now.

Maybe I'm not meant for a desert. Maybe a beach house to escape to. Perhaps a rural area. Perhaps some deserted place, tucked away from modern living, so that I may regroup once in a while.

Who knows, now. I'm still an undergraduate in a dorm with a dual bathroom/kitchen sink, after all.

But when I finish writing this chapter, I'll have to bring myself further along the road I've been paving myself for 20 years. I'm old enough to know that being idle is foolish. I'm young enough to know that I can flit in and out of places, breeze through towns and cities and find something to smile about in every one.

I'd like to have one inexpensive escape location, though. Someday. Even if it's just a place to park my car for an evening, or a place to lay down comfortably while I stargaze.

But I know I'd like to live somewhere beautiful. Everyone should want that. Beauty isn't just a vacation stop. Whether you create it around you or you stumble upon it while you're wandering through a foreign area, embrace it. Try to be present in it as much as possible. And when you feel like you're sad to leave it, always remember that you deserve something beautiful out of life.

I cannot trust this, or any, government.

if they cared about the people, anyone with established power in the world would stop allowing money to be poured into weapons development, and put it towards improving the quality of life people have.

if anyone cared, we'd stop inventing new technologies to take into battle, and we'd start looking at ways to solve world hunger and devastating diseases.

they don't care about us. that's why the world is crumbling beneath our feet.

words.

words have been a long time companion of mine. I understand them, and they understand me, in a sense.

they take what I'm thinking and make it concrete. when I read them back, it's almost like looking into a mirror that shows far beyond my exterior.

every single day, I wish that I understood people as well as words.

I suppose I had a lot of quiet hours to spend alone with my thoughts growing up. I was an only child and I wasn't very outgoing or loud. I daydreamed and thought up stories and poems and bizarre ideas. I had imaginary friends and conjured up these fantastic places for us to visit.

I started formally writing when I was 9, and it's been my favorite retreat from the world since. when I'm somewhere that I can't sing, I write.

I write letters to people who have hurt me. even if they never get the letter, I put it down someplace so they may leave my head and make room for better things to enter.

I am socially awkward and working very hard to change it. it's difficult for me. I have spent more time with myself, retreating into the sanctities of my mind, than I have with another person.

my advantage, though, is that I have grown to be very observant.

the phrase 'always watch the quite ones' is very true. not that we're crazy, just that we aren't vegetables. we don't sit there and shut down. we see things that other people miss while they're talking.

I for one have an excellent memory for little things that others don't catch. I remember dates, times, how people word things, and several other seemingly miniscule details.

my note taking is precise and I don't let it get sloppy.

words have become something I obsess over.

I hate people who refer to them as empty or limiting. I hate people who throw words like 'love' around. what you say sticks to people. it plants itself inside of them and remains there. I think people should be more aware that negative things seem to root themselves even deeper, and every variation of 'sorry' in the world can't uproot them.

this is the barrier, though, I suppose. this is why I can't be socially comfortable. I'm analytical and my only strong point is my writing.

but this is also why my imagination hasn't been smothered by this society yet. I'd prefer to keep that than an overactive social life.

I'm a naturally optimistic person, but I am growing so aggravated with the world and it's inhabitants.
a bunch of careless human beings who do nothing but hurt one another to selfishly profit.
we ruin the earth that has done nothing but give, and we demand more. we ruin each other, step on people to get ahead in a rat race built on lies and more deceit, we isolate anyone we consider different and harm them, and we put lives of others second to things that make profit. we destroy with war and don't stop to think what we're doing. we throw people into mass graves and don't stop to glance into their eyes to try and see what last thought or feeling was frozen on their faces.

sometimes at night I lie awake and cry when I think about all of the pain in the world, and how no matter how hard I try, I can never help everyone I want to.
other times I want to kneel down in a forest and touch the earth and tell it I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what humans have done to it. I'm sorry that we raped it of it's gifts and got angry when it couldn't give any more. I'm sorry that we destroy it for selfish reasons.

people push love and genuine feelings away and then preach about how others should live and let love in. people kill then act like they value life. people walk past someone who's hurt then say that they care. people cheat on someone who would do anything for them then expect life to reward them.

I am sick.
I want to vanish from this corruption.
if there's anybody left who isn't a disingenuous self centered moron, I'd like to meet them.

I find it curious that children seem to see the world far more clearly than us 'educated' adults.

children face death with selflessness courage, acceptance, and with more of a concern for their loved ones than themselves.
they see people, not skin color or other petty outer appearances.
they know how to dream. they aspire to be the most beautiful and innocent things when they grow older.
they want to be an astronaut to see the universe and learn, not to become famous. they want to act to make other's laugh, be doctors and nurses to help people, and bake just because it's fun to get your hands dirty. none of it for the money. the dollar sign is transparent and hardly phases them. they want to become police and firefighters to save people's lives, not for power.

how can you possibly overlook how genuine they are?!

I pour so much energy into every second, minute, hour of my life. I pause before making decisions and I thoroughly plan what I can.
But it's curious to me that in one hundred years from today, my brain will have rotted, my flesh decayed, and my thoughts, actions, words, feelings, all will only be a faded ripple, long since forgotten after pushing others outward.
I like to believe that there's a soul trapped inside of this body, something that will be able to look back at everything I've done with greater understanding and enlightenment.
It's a bit unsettling knowing that all of your work will be remembered for, perhaps, another generation or two that follows you. Unless you achieve this false sense of fame and power, that is, and they decide that some of your actions are worth recording in some form or another.
However, one must bear in mind the effects that the sparks of your life provide.
every action feeds the fire in it's own seemingly microscopic way.

my fear of death is characterized by my fear of ceasing to exist. my comfort in death is knowing that every action creates a ripple in the water, or throws a spark into the fire. although obscured by the rest of the world's developments, they're present.

I have come to terms with the fact that my parents are separated, but I don't think they consider how it inconveniences me.

I know it's not my relationship, but I'm still in the mix. I have spent so much time at home this summer because I go back and forth between two houses, and if I'm with my dad, I can't visit anybody. all of my friends are near my mom's.

I also lose all of my books and movies, not knowing which house I left them at last.

My mom also thinks it's okay to tell me how badly she wants a man in her life, meanwhile my dad always tells me that he hates being alone and he just wants someone to care about him.

When I use my mom's computer, I always stumble upon her dating profiles, and mens' facebook and myspace pages who she meets through them. She always lies and says she'd never date someone seriously because it'd hurt my dad, but she's doing it in secret, which I think is worse.

I hate that she uses my longing to find my soul mate as a means to relate to me. I'm very close with my father, and she's done something awful to hurt him that he's still unaware of. I wish I didn't even know. She asked him to move out. He's been miserable on-and-off since.

I hate seeing people I love hurt so bad, especially my father, who still goes back to her house to fix things and move furniture for her. He shouldn't feel obligated to anymore, but I guess loving someone makes you stupid, even when they don't appreciate what you do for them anymore.

I want both of them to be happy, but it's hard for me to know that my mom is looking for someone else secretively while my dad is hoping that they'll work things out in the future.

It's not fun living out of a duffel bag and planning my life around which house I'll happen to be at on a given day. especially when I have work, I have to be at my dad's, since my mom won't drive me to the city.

I get nothing done because I'm constantly going back and forth.
I had so many plans for this summer.
and somehow, not finishing them doesn't seem to be what bothers me most.
it's the fact that my parents are both unhappy no matter what, and they think that I'm going to be this rock that won't be affected by what's going on with them.

I normally don't like to post things about my personal life on the internet, but I need to vent, and I have too many people who claim to be my friends that will vent to me then give me the cold shoulder when I need some help.
I also know barely anyone reads this, so I guess it's a safe place to release some negative energy.

the way this society ruins self-image is a disgrace.

Beauty pageants always portray thin, busty, leggy women.

There are so many gorgeous women in this world who don't fit that bill.

I've seen beautiful women who are curvy and embrace it, I've seen people with disabilities who glow with more confidence and radiance than some of these "beauty queens". I think it's shallow that we have women strut half naked in front of a panel to be judged, while there are coming-of-age girls out there dealing with self-image issues. Imagine just growing into yourself and watching cookie cutter women be judged for perfection? it's gross.


growing up I was always really tiny and thin, almost scrawny. I was always made fun of, people would joke that I was born premature, as if that would even be something to laugh at if I were.

I was always self conscious, finding fitting clothes was a nightmare, and then bigger people would tell me to stop complaining, because I was luckier than them.

I internalized my body image problems until I recently realized just how much I like my body. I am so fortunate to have health and love that I realized there was nothing wrong with me physically. and when the beauty fades, it's the personality that matters. when the face wrinkles, your smile's all that you've go to physically portray your internal radiance.

I want to live in a world where big girls, small girls, and all of the in-betweens feel beautiful about who they are, and who can embrace their bodies' uniqueness. I want people to learn to see their individual traits not as 'flaws', but as their individual and beautiful characteristics. everyone is beautiful. everyone deserves to feel confidence and love and hope.
if anyone tells you otherwise, they're ugly on the inside, and they're nobody to talk.

Sincere thanks.

I would like to extend my deepest thank-yous to all of you who tried (and continue to try) to break me.

nothing motivates me quite like the world's negativity. I think this is a common trait I share with many people who have achieved wonderful things; people who saw things that were wrong, who were told it couldn't be fixed, and still said, 'I can do this. I can make it right. I'll prove it to you'.

I may not make some grandiose change in the world, but I WILL be something and achieve my goals.

but I waned to say thank you for motivating me. the thought of the look on your face when I succeed... oh, goodness.

words have been exhausted.

what's left to believe in?

a most tragic flaw.

I will never be able to stop caring.

One can only attempt to bury their own emotions for so long.

At the end of the day, I'm alone with thoughts that I'm ultimately incapable of escaping.

personally

I think this world is a funny place.

I don't think people get what they're doing half the time.


everything can go wrong and yet people still freak out about morals and tradition.

obviously, your age old tradition isn't working out so well.

the world is a changing growing place. we need to treat it like that.

progress is necessary.

if you stuck to crawling your whole life because it worked for you as a baby, you wouldn't get too far, would you?

if you sit there bitching and moaning about how screwed up everything is, then fight tooth and nail against a change for the better, you're being your own barrier.

why don't people get that?

musicians

you're artists.

sound and air are your tools.

your canvas is any open space.

don't leave anything blank.

singing

sometimes when I sing,

and I mean, really sing and get into it,
I feel like the air around my body is vibrating and encasing me in a completely new way.
I feel like I'm on a different level of feeling, and I feel like nothing around can hurt me.

It's the most difficult thing in the world to explain.
I don't even feel myself shift into that state, but when I snap out of it, I always have to re-assess where I am. Then I just want to get back there, again though.

maybe this is the most natural state a person can reach, and I reach it that way through this form of art.

I don't understand people who go through life simply doing what they think is accepted of them.
I don't get how people seem satisfied this way.
I don't believe that life has to be as uniform and boring as it is.

if everyone else is going right, take a left.
you might like what you find.

I don't think there's anything as fascinating as the human ear.

Think of sound. Think of what it is.

In reality, it's our brains interpreting waves in the air.
Our ear catches the vibrations, they travel through, hit our eardrum, vibrate the ossicles, moves the amplified noise into our cochlea, which then divides the frequencies, and finally transfers it to our cochlear nerve, which leads to our brain.

it sounds crazy, but after learning about it for a month in audio, it's completely fascinating.

our ear tells us if we're on our side or standing upright.

but what really gets me about it is sound.

sound--an interpretation of waves moving through the air. how we interpret vibrations.

we are literally built to hear music, to hear waves around us and make something of them.

how incredible is that?!

think of all the things that go on around you... sounds you don't even know you're hearing half the time.
you can literally sit in the middle of a busy neighborhood, listen to all the different frequencies moving through the air, and form SOMETHING musical out of it.

I love the subway.
I love hearing breaks squeak, heals click, things tap, the hum of a moving train.

and how do I hear it?
it makes a vibration
that moves through my ear
that my ear catches and directs into my brain

if a tree falls in a forest, and nothing or no one is around to hear it, it won't make a sound. sound is simply an interpretation of waves.

don't argue and say an animal will be around to hear it, it's obviously a hypothetical situation.
nothing is there to catch the waves and turn it into a sound.

how lonely that must be.

and when you think of how sound effects you it's even more incredible.
it switches moods, it saves lives... an instrumental song can sum up everything that words can't say.

what power... I could go on for days.

I seem to have been fitted with a weirdo magnet sometime before college.

I have gained quite the following of what I refer to as 'creepers'.

my most recent one irks me on several levels.

but I think what irks me the most is that he's one of those guys who basically feeds you compliments constantly.

when I was younger I thought I'd like that, but now it gets on my nerves.

not that that's all I'm turned off by, I mean the fact that his life revolves around playing video games and avoiding the sun/outdoors is enough to bother me. (not to mention, he cyber-stalks) but the constant praising really doesn't sit right with me.

I always thought it'd be nice for a guy to tell me all the things he found great about me.
but now I'm more mature, and I really don't need a guy to sit there and shower me with compliments.

I don't need someone else to try to point out the good in me.
I can identify it myself.

and if I can't, someone listing it for me probably won't do much, anyway.

I'm not perfect.
I'm not the best looking girl.
my figure isn't like Kim K's.
my hair never does what I want it to.

but I have my own unique flaws
I have my own unique physical traits
my figure is nobody's but alannah's
and my hair is all mine, and as in-cooperative as it is, some people don't have any, and I'm very lucky.


on top of that, I like how I write. I like how I'm able to look at the world like no one else can. I like how hard I try, even when everyone else tells me not to bother.

I love how even on a bad day, I can get out of bed, look in the mirror, and face myself with pride and a smile, and honestly promise myself that everything will be okay.

I don't need any guy to tell me any of that.
I never will.

I was long overdue for a lame poem.

how do you mend a broken heart
when the pieces are all scattered,
when none of them are even with you,
like it never really mattered?

and how do you demand the return
of something you willingly gave away,
and thought would be safe with someone
who you thought was there to stay?

if I had saved it for someone else,
or even kept it on a shelf,
it would still be whole,
and I'd have saved it for myself

I wonder where you tossed it,
or if you even thought to keep it?
I wonder if you did
and you're just keeping it a secret

maybe if you bring it back,
I'll now know what not to do,
but if you came around me,
I'd probably still want to leave it with you

so if you have my broken heart,
and would like to let me mend it,
please don't bring it here yourself,
I'd ask you just to send it.

trial & error

It's been my understanding that I see the world very differently from many people around me.

I haven't walked this earth for too long in this lifetime, but I'm very conscious of the fact that I've been here before. I'm also conscious of things that people forget.

I think people need to understand that life itself is one big learning experience.
it's okay to mess up. it's okay to change your mind.
a mid-life crisis, in my opinion, is nothing more than a re-evaluation of your progress so far.
tack the words mid-life and crisis together, it really does sound catastrophic. but why describe it that way? we're still learning.

life moves quickly, and if you expect yourself to perfect it by the end then you're going to be very disappointed.
you can be imperfect and still be thrilled with the outcome.
we all are imperfect and perfect in our own unique ways.
we find these ways out through trial and error.
the life process is trial and error.

each direction we move in is a risk. at any moment the sky can open up, lighting can strike down and hit the exact spot you're about to step in. does it happen often? no. but do we realize, at least subconsciously, that there's a risk there? yes.

every new endeavor is not a guaranteed success.
we're allowed to make mistakes.
society has made it seem so that every time we change our mind, we're committing some social crime.
we're made to think that realizing something we didn't see before is a contradiction.
why learning and admitting it is so shunned, I'll never really understand.

through my own experience, I've been yelled at for questioning different schools I've been in.
my mother was angry that I wanted to switch majors, switch schools, etc.

but why is that so bad?
was I honestly to know what was in store for me? no way. not until I experienced it.
but we're just conditioned to think that we only have so much time to figure out everything. while that's true, it doesn't mean we should rush through life and simply go through the 'acceptable' motions.

we need to experience different things.
we need trial and error.
we need to fulfill that part of us that gets neglected when we only concern ourselves with rushing to figure everything out.

I'm a little more than sick and tired of racism.

I think it's run it's course long enough, and it's done nothing but create difficulty for society's growth. I'm ready to put this nonsense to bed. Unfortunately most other people aren't.

I've heard racial jokes, and I've told racial jokes. That's not the problem. The problem is when we make someone feel like less of a person because of pigment in their skin.

Not long ago I went to a show put on through my school. I went alone, and it was majority black. I got such dirty looks that I left halfway through the show. When I tried to pass through an aisle, I said excuse me and got dirty looks. Nobody moved. So I found myself climbing over chairs.
I almost cried.
I don't care if people are mean to me in general, it's your prerogative. However, if I was with a crowd of whites and there was one black person there, I'd treat them with the same amount of respect as any other person there. Because they aren't simply a 'black person', they're a human being. That's just how I treat people. So when I'm looked at different, it hurts a little.
There's such a lack of mutual respect among human beings and it makes me sick.
So I'm moving forward with my life, and I'm going to continue to look past petty things like race and religion and culture.
Care to join me if you feel that you're mature enough to handle such a concept.

doing it right.

Growing up, I never had a ton of friends. I was never popular, and I was never really pretty or cute.
It used to bother me a lot. I'd always wonder why nobody liked me, why I had so few friends. Why couldn't I be surrounded by groups of kids all the time? Why wasn't I invited to every birthday party?

My first two years of high school were similar. I just sat with people who I barely spoke to. I still didn't get it. I didn't get what I was doing wrong. I tried to show people that I had similar interests. But I was still not popular, I still was closed-off, I still never went to anyone's parties, or went to the mall with anyone.

Now I'm in my second year of college. I'm still not popular. But now I love it.

Because that whole time, I thought I was doing something wrong, when all the while I was right.

For every person that doesn't like me, I'm reminded that I'm living my life exactly the right way. I'm not living to please anyone else but myself. The more people that dislike me, the more I realize that I'm living for Alannah. Then I don't mind having a small amount of friends, because I know it's genuine. I don't mind not going out to parties, because I don't enjoy them, anyway.

Alannah would rather sit at home and spend quality time with quality people.

So I'd like to thank every person that doesn't like me for being honest, because you remind me that I'm doing it right.

disgrace.

yesterday I read about a boy who killed himself because he was gay, and he couldn't deal with the grief the kids at school gave him.

I mean what more can I add to that?
what a disgusting world we live in sometimes.

I have so many problems with this that I have a hard time lacing all my thoughts on it together to post here.
odds are it'll come out like an angry mash-up.

but can you really blame me?

first of all I'd like to say that I think it's a crime that kids can make each other feel so poorly about themselves.
kids are cruel.
but where are the teachers?
you can't sit there and say no teacher saw this kid get picked on, because 1) if they did and didn't discipline the bully, they failed at doing their job, and 2) if they weren't around to see it, then they're still not doing their job.

the kid was about 13.
I don't even know what else to say

I'd say that it sucks that people can't be different, but he wasn't being different.

different from what?
everybody's different from everyone else.
so that's an irrelevant statement.
he was just a boy trying to be himself, and god bless him for that, but damn everyone who made him feel like he was less of a person for it.
he was more of a person than ANY of you and you have the rest of your lives to think about that.

someday

Not soon enough, though....

seasons

I learn a lot from watching the seasons change. I feel enlightened as I watch the leaves fall. I am reminded how much happens worldwide in the time it takes for one leaf to detach itself from a branch and gently touch the earth's surface.
it's incredible when you think about it.

irrelevant, but

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how to these myspace jerkoffs find me.

I can't get angry

if someone contradicts themselves.
my own mind is a paradox and that's exactly why it's so enjoyable.

I mean there are circumstances, sure, where I'll get frustrated at someone who does it continuously, but what do any of us really know for sure?

nothing.
that's why we have to come to several, sometimes opposing, conclusions that don't always meet at the end.

I am.

I am 19 years old. I have green eyes and hair that changes colors more often than a horse from Oz.
I'm messy and imperfect. I'm clumsy and I trip over nothing. I dwell on things and sometimes I have a temper that's far too quick. I'm forgetful and I apologize relentlessly even if it wasn't me who messed up. I miss the same people for far too long and I give too much to people who don't give me back half as much. every night, I lay in bed and am almost brought to tears by dissatisfaction.
I'm dissatisfied that I can't help all the people who I want to. I'm dissatisfied that at the end of the day, I have no one to call and talk to who wants to do the same with me.
I'm not fashionable and men don't look twice at me. sometimes I lose sight of what's important. I get frustrated easily, yet I have tremendous patience for all the wrong things.
I rant on twitter a lot because in reality, nobody listens to me talk. people shout over me and don't pause to hear what I need to say.
I want to be successful as a singer so someday, I'm the one with the microphone and they have to shut up.
I've learned to become an observer since I can't be a communicator.
I shake my leg vigorously because it relaxes me.
I look everyone in the eye when they talk to me, and that seems to intimidate them, when all I mean to do is show respect.
I fear disappointing people who I care about, even the ones who don't care about me anymore.
I am an old soul.
I have been very conscious of death since I was young.
I have OCD with certain things. I have a planner that I write everything in, even things like snow days. I like to know where I was on any given day.
I also keep a back up planner in case I lose the main one.
I'm a major people pleaser.

sometimes I wonder why I can't find anyone to rely on, then I look at all my flaws. I remember what Marilyn Monroe said; "if you can't handle me at my worst, you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best"


I haven't met someone who can handle me yet, I suppose.
When I look at it that way, I think it'll be worth the wait.
because I'm not an easy person.

guilty as charged.

I think the world is a lot less complicated than we make it.

the biggest problem is telling people how we really feel. people seem incapable of it.
I'm so guilty of this.
I'm even guilty of being afraid to ask someone else how they feel.

I'll ask anyone but that person. I'll ask my friends or their friends, I'll check my horoscopes and ask god to send me signs about friends and different people who's feelings I want to be aware of.

why is it so hard in this world to achieve honest communication?
we have so many technologies that you'd think they would perform as a catalyst for communication, but rather it's inhibiting the genuine meaning of it from reaching through.

we talk, but we don't communicate.
we hear but we fail to listen.

social networking is destroying human interaction and honesty. it's name is an oxymoron. instead of confronting each other and expressing feelings we hide behind a keyboard, armed with anonymity and several hundred harsh words at our disposal.
it's sad, really.
there are so many people who I'll never know much about because nowadays the only way to get information on someone's life is by checking their latest tweet or facebook status.

what's happened to us all?

pardon me if I sound conceited but

I do pride myself on being, from what I see, a bit more compassionate than the average human being.

oh, humanity. you nearly bring me to tears on a daily basis.

life is so funny.

once I get used to feeling like a teenager, and feeling like I can be silly and invincible and mature and immature all at once, I'm 19 and just months shy of turning 20.

it's so strange thinking that in this lifetime I can't relive my teenage years.

...

I DETEST the way I think of you.
I completely hate myself for it.



you don't understand and you likely never will.

PRACTICE.

The difference between an amateur and a professional is that an amateur practices until they get it right, while a professional practices until they can't get it wrong.

paper.

I don't like paper.

it ruins the world in some ways.

for example, paper is driving me to go through school for 4 unreasonable years. I need to have a piece of paper stating that I'm able to complete all of the technical aspects of music for anybody to "take me seriously".
but who would take me seriously?
people with more paper.
not another degree, but money.

I'd rather be lying on my death bed remembering how satisfied I was with my life and my work, and thinking about where music took me other than through school, rather than lying on my death bed counting my paper alone with nothing real to show for it.

planet earth

I wish everyone sharing this planet would achieve these seemingly simple concepts.

for eyes to be ignorant to skin color.
for minds to forget that borders divide us.
for our upbringing not to effect how we see other people's beliefs.
for people to be able to love who they love, regardless of sex, without being looked at differently.
for everyone to have an equal shot at life.




seems simple, but everyone twists it and turns it into a complicated hell to deal with.

priorities.

The priorities currently shoved on me aren't even my own, however, I'll see it all through to get it over with.


is this really living?

working out school

figuring out how to keep my GPA impressive for those who only look at those kinds of things.

24 hours

coincidences.

I personally don't believe in coincidences. I think everything and everyone comes in and out of our lives at certain times for a reason, whether or not we're aware of that reason at first.
I don't think this affects free will at all, though. I believe that what we do with these influences are entirely to our discretion. but everyone who you pass, everyone who you talk to, and everything you see, it's all there for some reason.
Even things that seem bad. Things seem simple and straight forward on the surface, but think about all these strange "coincidences" that have affected people you know.
I was told once of a man who was always late to everything. His wife said he'd be late to his own funeral. On September 11th he was late to work, and missed the train. He wasn't in the World Trade Towers when they came down.
Eerie coincidence, or something bigger.
During a heavy snowstorm in New York City, a tree came down in Central Park killing a man in his 50s. Tragic, absolutely. But at that exact moment, that man was standing in the exact right place for that tree to come down on him and take his life.

That brings me to another theory of mine. Whenever it's your time, it's your time. If it's not your time, you'll avoid death, even very narrowly sometimes.

When we're born we're stamped with an amount of time. We can't see it or know how long it runs for. It's only revealed to us when it runs out.

So don't lock yourself in your house fearing all outside causes of death. If it's your turn to check out, your carbon monoxide detector might not have been hooked up right, after all.

greetings.

I'd like to start off by saying that this is nothing special. This will contain nothing too thrilling or earth shattering. All it is is a blog for me to put down all my thoughts. Anyone who's interested in reading said thoughts, interpreting them, thinking outside the box, and curbing their ignorance is welcome to read this.

I'm a 19 year old just like any other. I deal with the daily grind in my own way that probably isn't too different from your own. I don't think any different than anyone else, I'm not living on some other world or thinking on some other plane that makes anything I say relevant or more insightful than what you conjure up within the sanctities of your own mind. I do, however, spend an abnormal amount of time alone, in a room, with headphones on, thinking deeper than I originally felt I could.
And that is why I'm now choosing to exploit the things my mind creates on the internet.

adieu.