Lantern

So I've been told that writing in anger is not the wisest idea. What about irritated? I know she thinks I'm jealous and can't stand to see her happy. But that's not the truth. I thought for a time I might be jealous. But I realized I'm not. I am fine with being single........ today...... tonight. It just seems like she and I are walking through the woods and she's the one with the lantern. Then one night, one with no stars, she decides to go off the path. I don;t know, maybe to walk one I can't see, but she's walking away, and taking the light with her. I'm not afraid of the dark, it just becomes more difficult to walk the path with no light. Things have changed. I've talked with a friend both she and I share, and we agree she's changed. She even told him she thinks that I can;t stand seeing her this happy. Whatever, it's not true. She's just so different. He suggested an intervention. That possibility has crossed my mind, but every time I try to she'll just brand me as "Spiteful or Jealous", so that seems out of the question. She has changed over time, I get that, people change but... this is a lot of little things that changed overnight. I miss her. And...... I don't know anymore.

Socksisms -- #1

Loneliness is the worst disease, because the cure is just as painful as the affliction.

endeavour

there are 2 different kinds of lovers.

the first;

they love until their hearts bleed out.

the second;

they let the other person put in the effort and time and enjoy it.

the first usually fall for the second.

it would be amazing for two firsts, or two seconds to find each other.

never, it seems is this the case.

there are those who come right out and say they like you...... firsts.

there are those who hide behind moving vans and run from you in crowded rooms...... seconds

there are those afraid of breaking hearts......firsts

there are those afraid of getting theirs broken......seconds.

there are those who find no reason to stay......firsts

there are those who find no reason to leave......seconds

the world is divided between firsts and seconds.

why must the firsts fall for the seconds?

who ever truly taught us how to love?

Was I wrong to leave?

I got a letter from my little sister today;

hi eva i miss you you r the best sistr i evre had come home plese come home no budeye hads u sistr like you mom and dad missie you miles and bubbie missie you and I MISS YOU VERE MUCH love summer.

It made me cry.

Sleep

I've been trying for a few days...or weeks to get my body back into a "normal" sleep patteren. And so far........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................ sorry, yeah, nothing is working. Is it time?

Endgame

There is something that keeps bothering me. It shows up in my Facebook updates. It shows up in the mail disguised in embossed little envelopes. Engagement. And not just ordinary engagement, the engagements of my friends. Near and far. It seems like just a few years ago we were doing makeup and whining about cute boys.....actually, that was a few years ago. I'm only 19 and while some of my friends are a tish bit older. I find more and more of them seem to be getting ready to commit to monogamy indefinably. I don't thinks it just marriage I have a problem with. It's marrying THIS young. I mean, you only have on life (If you aren't one for reincarnation) and you'd want to give up your 20's for marriage? To me, that screams mental. And while they may be euphoric in their new found bliss, you have to wonder if when they are 40, if they look back and wonder what it might have been like to be single and invincible and only 20. Eh...marriage not for me. And while I'm happy for my friends, I can;t help but felling sorry for them. in my book; Marriage = Game Over.

Mr. Brightside

I hate being jealous. Hate as in loath. Loath as in despise. Despise as in....well, you get my point. But when you work hard for something, you do expect at least a small amount of success. Correct? But when you see someone you care about do nothing, and get everything you've been striving for, a good throttling is in order, me thinks. Or not. Still, I begin to be jealous, of my best friend. I'm not supposed to be like that. I'm supposed to be supportive and caring. Not a cynic and realist. But while I used to be a romantic, that part of me is dead. And I wish I wasn't the one who killed it. Because now, I might not be so jealous.

Jealousy, turning saints into the sea,

Swimming through sick lullabies,

Choking on your alibi.

But it's just the price I pay,

Destiny is calling me.

Open up my eager eyes

'Cause I'm Mr Brightside.

Lost

While Insomnia seems to be the new trend in music, I find it incredibly annoying. Even if I try to set my sleep cycle to where I'm up at 7 a.m. and try to go to sleep at, well at least 10 p.m. I'll still lie in bed for hours and hours thinking and getting more and more frustrated that I can't fall asleep. My body is tired but my mind won't shut up. It's the things my mind thinks that I need to focus on. Like my failure of a life or, the fact that I'm mostly alone. Like even now when trying to write, my cousin, comes and wants to talk. I put this aside. But instead of talking about the mixed messages she's getting from this boy, she goes of on me about how mean I am to her dog. I'm effing allergic to animals, and he's a huge foul smelling dog, that invades personal space and is ill behaved. Yeah, sorry I don't want a smelly stupid dog drooling all over me. So since I stood up for myself I'm in the kitchen alone. Again. See, this is what my mind want's to think about during the night. Like why my cousin is being all snooty with my lately, I can't figure it out. And honestly, I could care less about it at 3 a.m. So.....my point......yes well, I can't sleep. I'll sit awake watching re-re-runs of House on Hulu, with a box of graham crackers. It also may be that I really have no one to talk to anymore. I used to have Socks, but she's got her own issues and even if she thinks that she can handle mine she can't. So even though I promised to let her in, I can't. She can't deal with it. And now I've even lost my profound train of thought because of her being a twit. Eff.

Nothing Changes

All this about years making a difference, I never usually believe it. But I do believe 19 is better than 18...well it was...is...I got kicked out of my dad's house by my step-mom, and while I always told him he should pick her over me, I think that this time, he should have picked me. I follow rules, some of the time. I'm just not one for tons of structure. Maybe that will hurt me eventually. But seriously, I don't believe that trying to be like my step-mom is going to help me. Anyway, I get kicked out which puts my dad in a tough spot. And now he is concerned that I am going to end up a dead beat, or in a abusive relationship. Seriously? Please.

Games

Most the time I'm fine with the games boys play. But sometimes, it goes to far. This time, it was just weird..... I know strange segway.........what boy hides from a girl?

Drama

So I thought I was done with drama. Ha. Never. But seriously. I finally find a friend that I have little to no drama with. And then.................*POW* Everything explodes. It's always over boys. She'll never do anything. And I can't because she's my friend. Ugh. And he's so perfect, well, I think he is. The boy you never think exists. Oh he does. But he's already been called. "DIBS!!!!"

No Wardrobe

I thought that writing would make me feel better. And while it sometimes does, now isn't one of them. I thought I just wanted to go home. I thought that all I wnated was to spend the night in my old room, and feel safe. Never would I get the chance I thouhgt. I did. I know now, that I will never be able to go home. Life doesn't let you go back. It doesn;t give you a do-over. I found myself falling back into old routines. And silly things, like the way you walk down the stairs. You realize you can't really ever go back home

Shelled

I have to be myself. I have to. If I am not, what else am I? A mere shell of what I once wished I was, or the happiness that others derive from me, being what they what they want me to be. I keep wondering if I will find one to keep up with my quirkiness. They all seem so focused on themselves, even though I stand out, they can't see me. What am I doing? Waiting, hoping, waiting.......open your eyes, I'm right here.

Forward Motion

You find a place where you can just 'be" and then suddenly, it's gone. You try to rebuild that place over a few months time, and then, suddenly it too is gone. When you finally have the opportunity to, perhaps, build that place again, do you take it? Do you spend all your time and effort trying to fool yourself into thinking that; "You are home."? You can lie awake at night in a strange room and pretend that it is the one place that you actually felt safe. You can pretend that the sounds you hear are familiar, but deep down you know that they are not. I've moved........yet again.......back into a place that was not once as I left it though the small things remain the same. My room is the way it was. But it's not my room. It never will be. My room is a little solarium facing the port. Were you can see the moon, the stars, and the clouds. You could hear the creaking of the plexi-glass and climb on the roof. I will never be in my room again. I will always be moving, but I hope that someday, when I actually do have a home, that I will have a room. All my own.

Rendezvous

I know, it’s been a long time. Like parting ways with a very dear friend. You think about that friend from time to time and wonder if you will ever be reunited. This was once my haven and I lost it. I tried to find a new one, but it failed. There is something that the Circadian Heartbeat fills that nothing else has, not even a new blog could do that. It’s also a good way to deal with life when you have no one to talk to. My other blog will be for that boy, but this is me and my life. I miss being able to say things in here that I know only a few people will ever read. It’s my secret. Like hoping that someone is watching you as you make a fool of yourself splashing in puddles when it rains. It’s your secret, yet you hope that someone knows and is keeping it too.