July 30, 2007

Many of the people whom are reading this probably are only doing so because I have asked them to read it at some point in the past. My previous posts have come from within a selfish, brainwashed soul. I had striven to appear a perfect visage of stone, and the one person who was completely selfless. In doing so I not only hurt myself in the long run, but I fear I have hurt the very people I had said for so long I was protecting. From this point forward, I will no longer be the person I was before. I can no longer deny that I am human, and that I make mistakes, and will continue to make them. But I can only learn from them, and try my very best to refrain from making them again. I have made many a realization this morning, and do not doubt that more will continue to flow. For nearly 17 years I have tried to impress my parents, and family to gain their pride, recognition, and love. I have been tested often in this life, and refuse to believe that even if there is no God, or even if there is; I simply refuse to believe that this much pain could so entirely encompass a life, and be for naught. I feel that my life is going to be taking many changes in the very near future, and it has already begun to spin. I may not be able to control what others think of me, or what others shall do, but I can control what I do, and how I choose to accept, and acknowledge what happens. November, 1989, My mother and father met, and decided to become a bit more than friends. August 1, 1990, in Stockton California. A baby girl is born, 6 pounds and some-odd ounces, after a rather difficult if complicated birth. After natural birth becomes impossible, the father reaches his hand in, wraps it around the head of the baby, and turns it around, so that the cesarean section birth could be possible. Cutting the cord that has meant life the the fetus, he officially becomes a father. Still in question is the baby's real father, but he is prepared to step in and be dad for a baby in need. With hair red enough to rival hell's flames themselves, and eyes black enough to be pits; it can be assumed the baby comes into the world as happy as any being could be, once consideration is made that it is spitting out the blood that has been it's life and "breath" for 40-odd weeks, and breathing oxygen, nitrogen, and hydrogen for the first time. The child leaves the hospital with two parents, life, and no history. A clean, and impressionable, slate. Life is rough at first for this small family, and the house is nothing more than a small chrome trailer-home attached to a truck. Once life begins to look up, many pictures will be taken of the infant-child on the seat of a Harley Davidson motorcycle, the other pride and joy of her father. Pictures will be taken of the hand-made cradle that the father so lovingly crafted for his daughter to sleep inside. A trip is to be made quite soon that will mean much change, and will pose for a difficult future for the small family of three. Maybe the mother and father know something of what is to come, and maybe it is choices they will have to make soon that matter as to the outcome. But small and innocent is a baby girl who has no control of her life, or her future. The family moves to Phoenix Arizona, where the maternal grandparents to the child reside. Life continues for the family, and the mundane becomes ritual. The parching desert heat batters down on the doors of everyone, and bears it's heavy presence into every hole it can. Dust clouds continue to roll from cactus to cactus, picking up small debris that will aid it in it's trek across a land of nothing. As the force behind the dirt devil finally dies down, a desperate bird pecks at the remains of a family picnic, hoping to find something worth choking down to feed itself. More dust clouds up as a jack-rabbit scampers about the dry land in search for dropped edibles. No Peter Cottontails or Cinderella Bluebirds can be found in the dry and unforgiving summer heat of Phoenix, only harsh truth as sharp and powerful as the spiney cacti that indulge the visual feast of snow-bird tourists. A young girl is growing up believing she is an intelligent, average little girl. She wears the pretty dresses her parents buy for her, and eats the food they drop on her plate everyday. She throws the fits of temper that should go along with every developing child, and does what her parents ask of her when it means she gets something out of it. Briarwood apartements are not the most child-friendly of places to reside, but are within the budget of the family, and there are plenty of people who swear their lives away to keep safe the wandering and curious child. The child is ushered outside by the usual tempered mother, as has become habitual for the two. Trying the door, the child finds it locked again. Turning around she takes a left on the concrete pathway, going the short way around the pool that takes center stage to the living complex. Finding the door she is looking for, the little girls knocks and asks for her best friend. The man at the door nods, and beckons for the girl to come in, and go on back to the wonderful bedroom of another happy young girl. Quick, excited words exchanged, and the duo is out the door, holding hands, and on a mission. To escape the heat and bore of another dismal day, or sun-burn trying. Skipping down the side-walk, they collapse under a well grown, and perfectly shading plum tree. Greedily they grab at the fruit as it hangs low on it's branches, calling on them to remove from it the heavy, and bothersome fruit. They bite down hard into the sweet violet ball of a feast, eyes tingling from the slight tinge of sour skin. Their day is spent enjoying each other's company, and saving the poor plum tree from it's pain of bearing juicy delicious treats.

I am really fed up with everything and everyone right now. For those of you who will attack and say this is for attention, or that I should talk to real friends, not people online; I'm not doing it for fucking attention, and I've already talked to my friends. Nothing they say is helping me and I really just need to do something to keep busy. Hence I am typing out everything I am feeling at the current moment. I have no water or gas in the house, my dad may be dying, I may have to go back to living with my mother, whom I call Satan for very good reasons; In just the past week alone I have had my ipod give out completely, my new backpack for school get ruined and trashed, my cell phone get washed and become worthless, and my mother and father both blaming everything that is wrong in their lives on me. I haven't been able to shower for over three days now for multiple reasons, and I am trying to get a job right now as I am badly in need of money to call my own. My best friend may be pregnant and I am trying to be here for her. And on top of all of this, my boyfriend has told me that he is going to jail for 3 years because of a lie his "friend" said to said friend's parents. He was/is being charged with assault 2 because his "friend's" knife cut his own face. He wasn't even supposed to have the fucking knife there anyway, as he was at my boyfriend's house, and there were really young children present. So now I'm basically losing everything that I have. My possesions are still 2100 miles away on the other side of the country, and there is so far no definate plans to retrieve them. One of my pets died a few weeks ago, and I have nothing to do with my day other than sit online all day. But as this only prompts me to think, I am constantly thinking about what is going to happen to my life. I have recently begun to regret NOT killing myself when I had the opportunity 5 or 6 months ago, but I have promises to protect certain people, and have to carry on the legacy of two departed friends, therefore am finding it impossible to do anything I want. I am currently planning to walk around Lexington tomorrow just to walk. Even though there are certain people who will probably kill me for doing so, I don't care. I really need out and am going to try and apply for emancipation soon, as well as find a place of my own or someone to stay with. I am going to apply to as many jobs as I can tomorrow and am hoping for the best. Right now I am so scared however, that I can't feel anything. Scalding food didn't even phase me, and I can't feel anything in my heart either. Which is odd for me. And even though I have been crying for the past few hours, which is another odd thing from me, I cannot feel them, or anything else. As much as I'm sure you don't care, all I can say if fuck off. I don't care for flamers right now. And I don't care for people with attitudes, or people who cannot spell or type worth shit, or people who are just trying to boost the number of posts they have. All I can say to all of you is to fuck off and leave me alone. I don't have to explain myself to anyone, yet I did at the beginning of this. So go away and shut the fuck up. Yes, it is a lot of drama. And considering I've survived the murder of my grandparents, the suicide of my best friend, and the death of another friend from a car accident, I'd at least say I'm hanging in there. It comforts me greatly knowing that I can at least help someone when I'm hurting. Even my life isn't the worst, Imagine how my boyfriend feels, knowing he's completely innocent, and is facing so much time in jail for a ten year olds mistake. I hope there's no one reading this and not responding because they are afraid. I did not intend for this to become a haven, however it shall be as such from now on. I really would like to hear what other people are going through, and together maybe we can patch up a little bit of ourselves before facing another tomorrow. People who complain incessently and do not believe there are people with worse problems are rather annoying, but I suppose they haven't had the chance to lead an unsheltered life for long, thus not gaining the level of maturity it takes to accept things as they come and realize that not everything is absolutely horrid. I wouldn't take anything back in my life, not one thing. I've considered a couple things, but I wouldn't because every detail, no matter how horrid, makes me who I am today. And I accept and even appreciate that. I don't doubt I will make it. I promised his mother I would keep him safe. "Keep my baby safe for me okay?" And I intend to keep my promise. But it's going to be rougher than anything I've ever had in my life before, and that is what makes me so anxious and worried and...well, scared, right now. Trying to imagine a hell worse than that which I have thusfar overcome. If there is ever a time I needed him, it is now. But I'm afraid I simply do not want to risk annoyance, as I am sure they are under a lot of stress right now, and would like some time to think things out on their own, as a family. I do not like the idea of leaving this alone, but I fear I have no choice in the matter. At least not currently. Farewell for now. Hopefully I shall post again before too long.

I am very confused right now by something someone wrote. I just got back from Rocky Horror Picture Show, and should be happy. My friends are in my bed sleeping and I am on here, feeling more tired than I believe I have ever been in my life; Yet I cannot bring my mind to overpower itself and give in to the extreme burning sensation in my eyes. I don't care if any reads this. I really don't need anyone to read it, I just needed to see it for myself, in the hopes that it would somehow help me. This person is currently about an hour and a half's walk from here, and I really want to go see them, but it is 5:30 in the morning, and my neighborhood isn't one for a 16 1/2 year old girl to be walking alone in. [pause] *sigh* For once there is a puzzle that utterly escapes and confuses even my mind. And as if there is not enough inherant worry in that itself, the cause for the confusion, i.e. the words said person wrote, are superbley mind-blowingly...complex. The words are not. The words are as follows: "FUCK LIVING A FUCKING LIE EVERY FUCKING DAY OF YOUR FUCKING LIFE, BECAUSE YOU'RE FUCKING CRITISIZED FOR BEING WHO YOU FUCKING ARE!!!!!!!!!!!!" I even counted the number of "!" this person put. 12. There are 12 exactly. I have not eaten since about wednsday, and haven't drank since yesterday, in which I consumed the barest of volumes of water, maybe a tablespoon's worth, to swallow pain pills. Just 2. 2 pills for the pain. Pain. Yes. Pain was my friend so often before, and I dislike it greatly when it resides in those so close to me. Is there pain in this person's words? Surely. But what do they mean? How do they hurt? Why can I not help? Who is critisizing them so harshly that they must resort to living a lie? When did all this start, and when will it stop? I beg pardon from those of you whom have wandered into this emotional deathtrap. I understand I do not know any of you, and that none of you really care about what I'm saying. But as I said before. I really didn't post this to make you guys read it, reply, or do any such thing. I don't want attention, I've had enough for the night. But I simply had to see these thoughts out and attempt to connect some sort of logic to the illogical strand of nonsense that so obviously is of utmost importance to this person. [blink] If you have read this, I apologize for time and space wasted. Please do not argue anything right now. I have no patience for unintelligable idiots who choose to wander around picking fights with easy targets. It's low. I despise low. And will not stoop to that level. Not now. Not tonight. Maybe later. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe. Good-night.