23

Things are easy and nonsensical
With ramblings and running down hallways
With planning and joking
And sometimes I wonder
If I created my own hell
Out of a place that wasn't half bad....
I'll appreciate it this go-around
Redemption here I come

22

I would trade my happiness for your despair.
I would return to the worst of eighth grade to get you out of this pit.
I wish you knew that.

21

I had a dream
Where you asked me to go to the garden
You asked me to pick a poisonous mushroom for you to eat
And I did just that

20

The Vast Differences Between You, Me, Them, and Myself.

19

You know,
Maybe I had it wrong all this time
And maybe now I'm finally where I should be.
Where I'm in a place where my friendship cannot be condescending.
And in a place where I'm not well-known.
In a place where I have no image to keep up with.
Rather, I just have me. With no memories or first-impressions.
So change may not be easy, but it's certainly easier.
And I can't ride on the coat-tails of the person I used to be.
Maybe it's now that I will finally figure out where I'm supposed to be and where I want to be.
And maybe it's now that I can finally be independently happy.
This isn't a goodbye to past selves and past connections.
Rather, I'm just refreshing the page.

Focusing,
Focused.
Healing,
Healed.
Rebuilding,
Rebuilt.
It's time to grow.

Focusing,
Focused.
Healing,
Healed.
Rebuilding,
Rebuilt.
It's time to grow.

18

Novelty: noun. something that provides often fleeting amusement.

17

Me thinks my blog could use some sanity.
It's a completely one sided view of my life at the moment.
So... that's something to work on.
AKA something that will never get done.

16

This week will NOT be pretty

15

My dream from Friday night:

I'm standing in the dark parking lot of a strip mall, outside of a supermarket.
I see Saskia approaching, listening to her iPod.
Soon I can hear Sleepyhead playing through the earbuds.
She tells me that her dad is the singer from Passion Pit,
And that he's never around.

Cut to:

I'm standing in the supermarket with my sister.
I look and see a can of some french food made by a company I haven't seen before.
I know that the head of that company is my "dad".
Enraged that he, like Saskia's "dad", is never around, I begin smashing the cans.
I run out, leaving my sister behind.
The second I leave, I hear wind chimes, and remember my sister is still in there.
I run in as she's being yelled at by the manager, and I take responsibility.

Cut to:

I'm back in the parking lot alone.
A man approaches me, chanting and reaching out.
I try to back away but before I know it, he knocks me to the asphalt.

Cut to:
A van-gogh style painting that moves of an egg with three red pegs pressing on it.
One on each side and one from below.
I feel as if I'm the egg. I feel the pressure from the pegs.
I also feel as if I'm the pegs, and as if they're spring loaded.
It becomes tiring to hold them back so they don't crush the egg.
I finally let go.
The pegs burst into the egg and I feel a brief moment of extreme pain followed by numbness.

Cut to:
A simplistic picasso-esque cartoon of a blonde woman that moves.
She begins speaking french as her hair falls around her face, moving like worms.
It zooms out and she begins to dance

14

I've got to be Hannah, not Angela.
Hannah, not Angela.
Just NOT Angela.

Both were sick and sad,
But one was pathetic to top it off

13

I like...

to spend hours on facebook looking at photos, and pretending that strangers are my friends

to read everyone's posts on facebook and blogger, and pretend that they were written with me in mind

to make eye contact with strangers, and pretend they had been watching me

to stay quiet in class, and fake that I know what's going on

to read past notes and yearbook signatures, and lie to myself that everyone else still remembers me

to pretend that others were just busy, and that's why they didn't stay in touch

to walk around pretending I'm happy and in control

But sometimes, I just like to lie on the ground, and let the weight of the realism crush me, purely just to punish myself for living in a fantasy

12

You came to be my Eden
My fated promised land
And we swore we’d stay together
As we lay in sun-bleached sand

We shared those precious moments
In retrospect, so few
But they couldn’t stay, soon they faded away
Leaving pain and guilt in lieu

And so I’ll lie amongst the flowers
Sink beneath them and blend in
I’ll pretend to be as pure as they are
And bleach away my sin

I’ll wait until you beckon
Crouching at your feet
But if I live in delay, I’ll wither away
A plant strangled by the heat