Ellipsis.

What is it with people being disrespectful lately? You know, I am not some sort of object that you can talk to like a...well, an object.

I am not some promiscuous hooker.

I do have morals. But you obviously don't recognize that I am indeed a person just as much as you.

One thing that I also dislike is almost always being the odd one out of a situation.

Is it really so hard as to be somewhat...considerate? Maybe even a little bit? It's not like I'm asking the world here.

I chose you because I thought my life would change. Well, of course it has. It would have regardless.

There are too many stupid situations that arise that are unnecessary. Is it impossible to just speak what you feel? I don't think I'm being unfair here, but come on. Look at where it's gotten us.

Into a sticky hole, that's where.

Curiosity + me = unsettledness.

Life is one big decision.

I feel like every situation I come across is just another fork in the road that I've happened to stumble upon. It is extremely frustrating, because I never know what is the right decision. I'm afraid if I make the wrong decision on accident, my life will end up completely different than how it would if I made the right decision.

The only problem: most of the time I cannot decipher what is the right decision and what is the wrong decision. It really gets me into a lot of shit once I realize that I made a mistake because my head was not clear, and then I end up beating myself up about it. And then I become curious in the highest degree about how different my life would be if I'd just made a different decision. Growing up shouldn't be so complicated.

[Side note] I hung out with this totally awesome guy today.

;)

“Life is not so short but that there is always time for courtesy.”

There is something about etiquette that should be somewhat automatic.

For instance, you don't just go into someone's wallet and take their money, regardless if they owe it to you or not.

You are polite, and maybe subtly remind them of the money they owe you, and then they will give it to you themselves.

Or, what if, say, you accidentally eat something that wasn't meant for you, and are caught.

Earlier that day, your dad had given you money to buy a ticket, and expected $10 in change.

But instead, you inadvertently eat those chocolates that weren't meant for you, and your mother freaks out and demands you pay for more, and without your permission, digs in your purse and takes the money that you owed your dad, out of your wallet for herself.

Some things, you just don't do.

One of them, is to take money out of someone else's wallet regardless of the situation.

Also, has anyone noticed how disrespectful it is to be late?

To just walk in right in the middle of when someone is talking?

Well, it is extremely rude. Not to mention embarrassing for yourself, what with a bunch of beady eyes all shifting in your direction because of all the noise you make entering the premises.

You can almost hear their thoughts in the thick silence:

'Late again, as usual.'

'Do they just not care?'

'Such a disturbance.'

Probably the absolute worst thing about being late, is when it's not your fault.

How about those last few times you were two minutes late for work, and your boss yells at you for not being on time, and threatens to deduct the time from your paycheck.

You try to tell him "My mother made me late," because really, it is the truth, and there was nothing you could do about it whatsoever.

Of course, as anyone would, he says, "Oh, blaming it on the mother, are we?"

Or, "Take it like an adult, and stop making excuses for your actions."

That's a fun one.

Some people are just terrible at prioritizing, and have never grasped the concept of pacing themselves. It is really the most irritating thing, and you would think after a few situations of embarrassment would be enough to be on time.

Some people just lack in dignity.

Band-Aid?

There are lots of things we like to use as bandages.

There are those over-the-counter medicines that we use to cover up the pain of a headache, to stop the bloating, or to loosen up that goddamn constipation.

There's good ol' fashioned band-aids, that shield the wound from the elements while it heals itself.

And then there is that smile, that we plaster on so carelessly and automatically, disregarding yet again what's underneath it.

Forgetting what happens when we are alone, we remove the smile.

We place it on our bedside tables just to pick up once again and stick it on our faces the next morning.

But occasionally, we run out of glue. Or it just keeps falling off our faces. Those are the days when nothing seems to be going a certain way, or when we'd just rather leave the glueless smile on the table forever, because it's just easier that way.

But alas, all in a day's work, we haul ass over to the store and grab a new tube, because really, that frown isn't very attractive.

Marks.

There are stains that you leave on the world, as your life passes you by.

That time you left your skid marks from your tires on the road when you stopped suddenly for a squirrel.

There's that garage sale sign you nailed to the telephone pole which still hasn't come off for over 3 years.

There's a stain of red nail polish on your carpet where you spilled some.

Each time you see these, you are reminded of how they got there.

Then there are the blemishes which you don't look back on as facetious.

There are the wine stains on the walls where a wine glass was smashed.

There are the dents in the floor from where plates were thrown.

There is the wax from a once lit candle embedded in the carpet.

Each time you see these, you are reminded of how they got there.

I'll make it.

Those terrible experiences that we all endure at one point or another really aren't that bad.

Well, of course they are bad.

In fact, they are horrible.

They are disgustingly nauseating. [redundancy]

But, like everything else, time eventually heals all wounds.

It's quite convenient that it works out like that.

Except at the time, it seems like it drags on and on, and you will never see the joys of spring again.

You cannot even believe your eyes that the rest of the world is still spinning, is still running like nothing even happened.

And you hear it over and over "You'll pull through. You'll make it out of this mess. You won't believe me now, but trust me, you will."

But of course, you never believe it.

Nothing can pull you out of this pit of despair you've drowned yourself in.

But before you know it, things start to repair themselves.

Like magic, someone decided to hold out their hand and pull you out of the trench.

It really is the most euphoric feeling: finally knowing that things are going to be okay after all.

But that's not all.

Oh no, that's not all.

You have just remembered how to laugh and smile again.

You have also [gained the knowledge] to force yourself out of this mess when it happens again.

You have broken free of the cocoon with thicker skin.

This in itself, is life altering.

It is the most useful tool in the shed, without question.

Essentially, the most painful and horrifying occurrences can end up saving you the next time around, and you will be thankful that it ever happened.

A treasure called life experience.

[get some]

The Game of Life.

Some things I hate.

But of course, they are things that I can do nothing about.

There are people, and the way they view things. There is stubbornness that cannot be avoided. They will stick their head in the sand and not a word that is said will phase them. They will not read into your whims or cries for help. The only thing they care about is themselves.

There are the fights. The fights which are meaningless and the fights that would be easier if just left alone. The fights that just become so routine, civility would be out of place. It's sad, really, that relationships have to be like this. I really wish I got along with you, but you make it impossible. There's really not much I can do to save it at this point, it's too late. Then again, I don't know any better.

There is the stress and the anger, that piles up inside and does not desire to show its face until one day you have just had enough, and you snap. It would be nice if stress just ceased to exist, it would be a whole lot of weight off the shoulders.

Shit will happen.

Rehab.

What is it with Facebook?

I just finished a Facebook detox for two weeks. I didn't have anything to do with Facebook for that long. That is a quite amazing feat, knowing me. I honestly didn't know if I could do it. It really is the most pathetic thing. I never realized how sad it is to spend hours on a single site, only to find out what other people are doing. Who they're in a relationship with. Who went to that party. Who is on his side or her side. It's a complete violation of privacy. Suddenly everyone knows you're cheating on your boyfriend, and they're all bashing you, via wall posts, of course. Everyone knows you passed out, bare ass, in the bathroom at that party and cracked your skull on the toilet bowl, because he took a picture of you on his phone and uploaded it to Facebook no less than thirty seconds after it happened. Ten minutes later, nineteen people have liked it. The next Monday, you have to walk around school hiding your face because everyone saw that picture of you on Facebook, and you can't bear all the stares and laughter, and people patting you on the back uttering 'champ'.

Or that time when you were dropping your brother's friend off at his house, because your brother lost his license. You were too busy flirting with him and didn't notice a kid run in front of the car, and you knocked him over. You got out too see if he's okay, and luckily he's a tough kid and just suffered some scraped knees, and ran off. When you got home and went on Facebook, you noticed your brother's friend had updated his status saying '...just experienced a hit and run, with Katie being the hitter and a 5 year old being the hittee.' It already had forty-seven comments of 'what?!' and 'holy shit! She killed a kid?' Of course it got blown out of proportion. It's not like you can do anything about it though. He was always an asshole.

Or how about when you had a nasty breakup with your boyfriend, and he ended up removing and blocking you on Facebook. He posted nude pictures of you on everyone's wall, to get revenge for your bitchiness. Chances are you'll never be able to leave the house again without having a paper bag over you head. You knew you never should have posed for him naked, just so he could jack off to them when he's feeling lonely. Your implants and platinum hair helped.

Maybe I'm getting carried away, but shit like this happens.

And it all starts with life revolving around a stupid site called Facebook.

Brb, I'm going to go check if I have any notifications.

Here we go again...

I sometimes honestly don't understand you at all.

I know your heart is in the right place.

I know you can be extremely sweet.

I know you're capable of making me feel special.

I know you don't intend to upset me.

It's the part where you don't really try that pisses me right off.

Some things you should just know, and I shouldn't be the one to always have to tell you.

You should be able to realize your actions and think about how I might be feeling on what you decided.

When I act a certain way, you should at least be able to tell that there's something wrong.

There are bare minimal requirements, which somehow don't seem to occur to you.

It's not as if I'm asking the world.

Just a little observation.

I'm here too.

[The Pitiful Mind]

The world is an inescapable prison.

All the human soul really aches for is a significant other to be connected to our own.

It is the pain of the realization that this is impossible that kills.

The only thing entirely necessary to fulfill the heart's desire and life's purpose is to be loved.

We dart around, from person to person, to try and grasp that feeling, to trick ourselves into believing that if we search hard enough, life will finally be complete.

The unnaturally warm feeling one receives from their fingertips merely grazing the surface, just out of reach.

And then falling, back to square one.

Then all those complications of self-loathing begin to intensify.

The welling feeling of blame upon oneself, because there is no one else closer to the heart to play a scapegoat.

The shed tears, the dubbing oneself as a failure.

We begin to search for someone, anyone, to help us put our feet on the ground again.

Repeat.

Sadly, we only have the apathetic expanse of the internet to document our human condition.

IMPOSSIBILITY.

So.

I think you're a pretty amazing guy.

You're smart, and funny and sexy, and you just have that charm about you that I can't seem to escape.

You care about me, except you show it in a slightly different way than others.

You can actually hold a conversation, and I have never met anyone who has such abstract thoughts.

You always know the right thing to say.

You can make me laugh when I'm feeling down.

There is only one thing missing.

Failure to trust myself.

:)

Randoms that are cute/apply to me on some level/are random:

Sometimes an "I don't know" means "It's too difficult to talk about."

I'm always torn between wanting to tell my story to everyone and let them know exactly what is in my head or keeping it to myself. The problem is being outwardly unhappy and consistently pushes people away, no matter if they say they're always there to listen, there is only so much your best friend can listen to. On the other hand, to pretend that everything is fine is to poison yourself from the inside out; it is to ignore who you are and lose yourself. So which is better? To have friends that think you are melodramatic, seeking attention, and pessimistic, or to drown in your own mind?

Life is better when you decide you don't care.

"It's okay."

No. It's not fucking okay. I just said it because I'm tired of explaining why it's not. I don't want to argue anymore. It doesn't mean that I'm weak, it only means that I love you too much, and I don't like seeing you like this. I hate seeing you mad and torn up inside. Everyone gets tired of arguing...

Of explaining...

Of fighting...

Of getting hurt...

So I'd rather say...

"It's okay..."

Than getting into something that would cause us to fall apart.

If you've ever had one of those times when you've clutched a pen or something else in your hand for a long time, only to look down and be surprised that you are still holding it long after your need for it has passed, you'll understand sometimes we get so used to holding that we forget to let go.

Ignore me. I'm sad and I will make you sad. We will disappoint and hurt and leave each other- and then you will forget me. I become too attached to people too easily. People like you. It's already happened, but I don't want to ask too much of you. I don't want to ruin all the fun you're having. I'll just leave now. I'll go away so you can enjoy yourself.

It's like this.

You have to have the nicest jeans, or the cutest purse, or say the newest thing so that it catches on. You have to be skinny, you have to buy this, wear this, say that, be on his side, her side, be neutral, have white teeth, have straight teeth, your hair can't be frizzy, and you can't wear that because it just doesn't 'work' anymore. You have to go to parties, be friends with everyone, trust no one, pose like this, smile like that, tilt your head this way, and put your hand on your hip, because that's how it is. And let me just say, fuck all of that.

(On the phone)

Wrong

Girl: "You know what? I'll ttyl. Bye."

Guy: "Fine." *Hangs up

Right

Girl: "You know what? I'll ttyl. Bye."

Guy: "No babe, what's wrong? I'm sorry..." etc.

Girls are bitches, yes. But if she's worth it, you'll chase after her instead of letting her go. We say bye, walk away, hang up, and all of that stuff, but the only reason we do that is to see if you love and care about us enough to come after us and make things better. When we say go, we mean stay. We want you to stay.

Saw some of them and could relate, and others are just true.

:)

What's next?

Department is unnecessary when fixing the seal is a proposition.

Is the surrounding exertion irrelevant?

To feel the warmth within is a near impossible task.

Instead only fingertips can graze the surface.

Reaching, wanting.

Wishing for granted happiness, but knowing succession is unattainable.

Relief is present when welcomed with open arms.

A single chance, has balanced collapse.

Mistakes, unbound.

Failure to grasp what was waiting.

Failure.

Keep a Mystery

Here I sit.

Head clogged.

What can I do?

To live.

Likeness unknown.

Bottled.

Broken?

Pieced away.

Some things.

Should go.

But which?

Condemn me.

Or don't.

Hold down.

Decision?

Amplify disguise.

I can see.

Barely.

Unspoken lies.

Under my skin.

Explode-

Perspective?

Who is in view?

Not I.

Rage.

Bliss.

See line five.

So similar.

Travel.

Patiently.

Need to look.

Need to find.

Peace of mind.

Keeping still.

Holding heart.

Walk away.

Smiling.

Pull me in.

Distribute.

Grasp and fall.

But stay.

Stay.

Stay.

Near.

Far.

See line five.

Continue.

Not.

Here.

Again.

Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda...Didn't.

I want to help you.

Even though we don't talk, I can see you're depressed.

I know you.

I am afraid to approach you, because I do not want to get involved in your life anymore.

I should not interfere.

I am just another girl.

I once cared about you, I will always care about you.

Real friends are forever.

Hai?

So I know it's bad, but I think I might like you.

Yes. Very bad.

Shit hits the fan though, right?

The worst thing is, is that I dig myself into these holes. They are just there, so I just do it. I do not care to stop myself, because I simply do not want to.

It is inconvenient to the maximum.

'cept not really, because I do it to myself. I don't have to be like this, but I choose to be, because I like the rush.

Just another thing to add to the 'oh well' pile.

It's hard to fill a cup that is already full.

Sick.

I hate my life. Hate hate hate hate hate.
Not just this, everything is going against me. Worst month. Negative outcomes are overwhelming. Happiness. Is. Over.
It upsets me because I care about you and know you deserve so much better than that. You do not see the manipulative side. The worming ways into your heart are false. You do not see through that. Screams artificial.
As for you, our friendship is over with. Forever.

Dear -------

What you have done has really upset me. I never thought you would stoop so low. I've never been so angry at a person in my life. You are not a friend to me. What you have done is unforgivable. You mean nothing to me. I do not understand your ways. No one does. Thanks for nothing.

Fuckity.

What is going on? Nothing is going right. Absolutely nothing. School, parents...other people. I don't know what to do. Life does not agree with me. I feel like it's never going to get better. Ever. I don't want to 'just forget about it', because that can't happen. I can't just think of nothing, because what I do think about, there's something going on with it. I find myself crying and not being able to stop at the worst times. Oh well, shit happens I guess...

The End

Don't lie.
You betrayed me.
You hurt me.
I do not understand.
You do not deserve anything.
Anyone.
You are just a stupid, lying, self-centered bitch.
You do not care.
You are inconsiderate.
You do not give two shits about my feelings.
Hypocrisy is your sin.
Extreme.
Oblivion is your path.
Artificial friendship was your gift.
Dishonesty.
Your presence is sickening.
Deceit.
My respect for you is absent.
I will never trust you again.
Never.
Get out.

Exterior & Interior

On the exterior, she smiles like no other.
She is a positive soul.
Her actions sometimes take over her thoughts.
She laughs with those around her.
She isn't afraid to let impulse overthrow what is supposedly right.
She is fearless.
She does not get embarrassed easily.
She is honest.
She makes mistakes.
She learns from them.
She has been taught to think abstract.
She is alive.

On the interior, she does not want to live.
Her heart is an unrecognizable object.
Her mind is nowhere near where it should be.
She can only see in the dark.
Those who surround her are the ones she slips away from.
Her skin is ice.
She speaks noise but no words.
She falls and does not care to pick herself up.
Her thoughts implode.
She hates for love.
Her hiding place is pain.
She is lifeless.

Nothing.

There are no words.
No words to describe you.
No words exist to begin to describe how I feel toward you.
Die.
Die.
Die.

Let downs are always fun...

It's not even that big of a deal, but sometimes you bug me. I get the vibe that you don't really care as much about me as you think you do. I feel like you only care about me when you want to...the rest of the time you just let me deal with it myself or you figure someone else will so you don't have to. In fact, it's not even about dealing with it. It's about making me feel like I'm cared for, and you obviously don't give a flying fuck about that. It's like, just because I've been lenient with this whole situation gives you the right to abuse it. That shouldn't be the way it is. That's not what I set myself up for. I know you're more intelligent than that.

Arrhhjsjnghghhhvvvnvnghjghhgh.

You know those people that you just want to punch in the face? You just want to beat them down and see all the blood all over their face and rip out their intestines and wrap them around their neck and...
Maybe I'm going too far.
Some people just infuriate the fuck out of me. They do something, and I'm left thinking "What the fuck was the point of that? Are you seriously that immature?"
It makes me want to commit suicide. People are SO DUMB it makes me ill.