Drifting

OHMYGOSHYAYHAPPYSOPROUDOFYOUTELLMEALLABOUTITGOGOGO!!!!

Wait just kidding. Don't ever talk to me. I won't talk back. Stupid teenage girl.

I've been posting three or four times a week. Because my thoughts are no longer flowing. Just trickles, and they dry up so damn fast, I'm afraid to lose them. I'm afraid to lose my mind.

I mean. I said it would happen. Bet my bottom dollar and won the million, baby.

"To be so vulnerable does not happen to me"
(nonono! NO!)

In your two-ton death trap, I finally saw

A piece of love on your face that filled me with regret

And you drove me places I'll never forget

And we are so fragile, our cracking bones make noise and we are

Just breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys

Something about a beautiful girl.

I don't blush. It just doesn't happen. To be so vulnerable is something that does not happen to me.

Someone. Punch me in the face. 
"How could I be so stupid!"

[And wow. Little things like that pull me all the way back to fucking fifteen. Punch me in the face. I can't even think of a plus side right now.]



No, that's a lie. At least... I dunno. At least I know I have some guts now.

Gracious: 

1. pleasantly kind, benevolent, and courteous.

2. indulgent or beneficent in a pleasantly condescending way, esp. to inferiors.

I'm almost resigned to waiting until college. Almost.

 

[out]

I feel super super cathartic right now, except I don't know what's happened. I feel like I should be working on something. I feel like it's the few days after my birthday, like there should be a big difference between before and after but there's not. There is nothing taking up much space in my head. Everything seems very trifling to me, very... ephemeral. If that makes any sense. I always say focus on today, but today is nothing. I feel out of place.

Mostly just flustered.

I can tell the difference between a kitten and a bunny, but only just.


"I can't really see it, that she's a beautiful. Maybe it's just me."
Maybe it's just me.


 

It feels like a birthday.

Which means it feels like almost nothing. How many times do I have to say it to myself before I'm really (seventeen)? 

On your birthday, they ask how old you are in every class. And in every class, you look at the room full of people and you say, "I'm seventeen". Of course you say that, because it's your birthday and you're fucking proud of it, but you don't tell people because that would be childish. You talk like the grown-ups!

It's funny because it's not a change. It's been in there, somewhere, in my DNA or something. It was always going to be like this, just the same as I was always going to turn seventeen.

It's just difficult. People say 'Mulder' and I can't tell them not to. I don't have evidence.

It needs to be sealed with a kiss.

Find the window.

Windows that are open now:

ear

driving

pit

life

sleep

romance

BROmance

That's seven to one. Maybe seven to two. So really, it's like the window is closed and the door is open.

Chocolate chip cookies make everything better.

Better Than Last Year

I say that almost every day and I don't know why. I don't measure my words like I used to. I say it all the time without really considering the comparison I'm making. Last year... It's like I'm telling myself that at least this is better than the worst, most 'learn the hard way', 'shit hit the fan daily' year of my life thus far. Stronger than the weakest link, bigger than the smallest fish, happier than the man who looks in the mirror of Erised to see himself dead, free at last.
So I'm not really saying anything. So.
Clean slate. Basically. Friday may be one of the few smears I leave on this year, hopefully not.
Scratch that. Maybe not.
When I'm not busy worrying about someone, I can focus much better on something. 


It gets more real every day.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f5X6Y9vFVe0

Blush. And nothing else. It's the best part anyway. DUH. facepalm.

 

------------------------------------

This afternoon, the lady on the corner asked me for some money. Her manners were impeccable. She smiled her one-tooth smile at me when I said Of course! and gave her everything in my pocket (all of one dollar and twenty-five cents), and she walked over to the counter to get something to eat. When I turned back to my burger, I'd lost my appetite. 

We as a community can do much more, but.

Be the change you wish to see in the world. 

I wonder how she got to where she is. What job she had, who her family is/was/should have been. what she wanted to be when she grew up, because it sure as hell wasn't 'homeless'. Mostly I wonder about her name.


P.S. 10% of our people own and/or control 90% of our wealth. Do you know what that sounds like to me?

Where are we

What the hell is going on

I really appreciate dissonance. Just about as much I appreciate resolution. You know, dancing in the rain and all that bullshit.
I really like short stories.
Ingrid Michaelson knows what's up.
I will bet my bottom dollar I will get my heart broken into a million little pieces in the next year and a half. I'm going to let it happen.
My customary shield of being afraid all the time has all but evaporated. I like myself too much to cover me up.
The wanting comes in waves.