I like Myrrh and Cigarettes.

>_> Someone just shoot me. Just do it >_> First I'm bitching about how this guy won't leave me alone and is like I want to date you and I'm like being a really, cynical bitch, and I'm like what a dork who is getting clingy, eww. and then he txts me "thank you for staying up with me last night" meaning that we text until we fell asleep, while we both got our shit done, and I found it sweet because I know what that feels like, the absence of not having anyone "special" to txt before sleeping, and I was touched, and then he stopped texting for awhile and I missed his constant bothering texts of "what you up to???" xD So someone just shoot me for being so damn indecisive.

I'm an idiot. a sexy fish idiot. Whatever. we'll see how it goes.

And I feel fine.

Sometimes I just take a good look at myself and the way I am and I scoff at how different I am and I enjoy my lifestyle. I am a selfish whore who loves the attention, above all the attention. Sometimes I think it's because of fact that I didn't realized or blossom into the social butterfly I am now till very late, 18. or so. And still even then it was one or two guys over the year before I got involved in a serious relationship.

Even with that view and how I am happy, sometimes I just look at myself and think that's fuckup, even for me.

Like the fact that I got more excited in getting a text back from a guy who apparently didn't even get the meaning of my text, from a fellow whore/player/ and I know that if ever gets what I want to do, that we will, and then we would say goodbye. Love them and leave them, and I get more excited about that, about him

than the guy who is literally trying to move the moon and stars for me in order to woo me, to date me, and to him I'm being a little bit of a bitch.

And I think it says about me how what I really want is to have fun, and I will but some part of me tells me to watch out because once I'm done having fun, I don't know if there will be anyone who is ideal for me.

Maybe I want too much when it comes to relationships which is why I'm not bothering. Is it so wrong to want someone completely mind-blowing, completely extraordinary?

And the guy who wants to date me, isn't. But I'm giving him a chance anyway, just because he's giving me attention beyond my sexuality.

But I'm still hoping for Christopher, the fairy tale guy, the ultimate fantasy, and I guess until I get my chance, I won't know.

They say she needs to slow down

He gave me hope. It's as simple as that. It's why I went denying that I wasn't obsessive, just curious. Just because he gave me hope. Hope that maybe this guy might actually want to date me, maybe. So I allowed myself to feel something beyond lust. Totally my fault, should have waited a bit, see what would developed, but I was just so damn happy. SO happy to be called pretty for once, bonita, linda, the difference between the two is that linda is more personal, and the difference was how I felt about it.

For that day, that moment. It meant something. It meant more than any comment I've received because I thought he was just using a bit of the old southern charm on me, just playing the gentleman card, saying before me, opening doors offering me what he was drinking (I refused). And before I knew it in the time frame of 40 minutes. I was attached. Attached to that idea of me and him, maybe. It's not that I was expecting a relationship, more just like a date or two, maybe a few texts, a friend, nothing serious, but fast. A friends with benefits with having the potential to be something more.

And I just need to get it out of my system. I need to exhaust the topic and thoughts of him and just let him go.And I think part of my problem is that when it comes to love, lust. I either go all the way, (most cases yes) or I don't. I was looking at my past blogs and read how I've been blogging about him since December when he was the elusive picture of my exhookup's friend who was nice, sweet. I wrote how I just wanted to talk to him, get to know him, how I knew it made NO SENSE, that I didn't have a chance in the world because he's the friend of a hookup and now Look at me. He's free game and I have his number and back then, that's all I wanted, his number. And he has mine, and he hasn't called, and stupid of me to even think that he would call, and he did, once and I Missed it. I was in the shower. And would I be in a different place if I had not been and answered? Would I know the truth? he hasn't call, and he isn't calling (me back again), and he's moving FAST on the track to being a number. just another hookup, to meet, and do, and forget. And I'm not afriad of it anymore if he is because I'm already getting dissattached.

What I am afraid of is what if he is interested in me but because he doesn't know me, is too chicken shit to make a move. This is what I wrote about him once; SO what if I like him? What if I slept with friend? So! What if I'm delusional enough to want to get to know him. What if I have the balls enough to ask hookup#9 about his friend. I'm going to look forward to this, whatever it develops into, if at all.
And just because i play the game, doesn't mean I rule myself out for the ability to settle down either. Doesn't mean I rule out crushing on someone for who they are, not what they;re like.

And I just have to see where it goes, but that's me keeping hope. 8 School Days including today is all the time I'm giving him. Then I'm going into the game myself, no more waiting.

Sexy fish.

I was going to write about how I got attached to stupido and developed an unwanted crush BUT

I'm happy. and why bring that down?

I read this sentence in the book I'm reading, it was describing another character and it said "happy is his fallback mood".

And mostly for me, it is. then the book continue and I thought wow, no wonder people think I'm hyper/bright/blond.
"because he was just the type of person to wake up happy. and really who does that? who really wakes up happy?"

The character does. And I do. & i like it that happy is my fallback mood.

Yeah. I'll explain the stupido later but for now I'm going to be happy dammnit and play some well earn game time (sims2 <3) and maybe write, and read before bed.

Yeah sounds like a good night.

If I could find my reasoning.

It's amazing how one person can changed your whole day. your attitude. your emotions.

with a simple, overly cliche joke.

So I'm having this fraud issue with my bank (I've been hacked >_>), it's mostly resolved but I still have to wait till I get to zero in order to close it and do away with and so I was on the phone with a guy name Scott from god knows where he was outsourced. But he sounded young, and kind, and was patient with me and I'm HORRIBLE like HORRIBLE at explaining my customer service crap problems. >_> But he was extremely patient and eventually he said I got what you're saying and I'll take care of it, again -_- and then after a few minutes, he was like okay, you should be able to closed on Friday. And I was like thank you, is there anything else I should be aware of? And he said, "don't take candy from strangers..." I laugh and said thank you again and hung up." I could have hugged him. The absurdity of it, of that comment, me, ms. I'm going to lose my virginity to a 27 year old guy who was in his 25th hour for possession, dealing who I met over myspace, at 18 and talk to a few times before saying let's do it. I just laugh and realized I have to lighten the fuck up. I only got about 10 years left and that's stretching before my looks go so to hell with relationships. I'll have my whole life to worry about that. If a guy wants me for me, fine, if a guy wants me for hooking up, fine by me, if he is fine too xD. But I need an attitude adjustment, and it's not going to work with me destroying myself through cutting, through smoking, through drinking, or fucking. it's only going to work on me through writing, and living life like I want to. And that's the only way to go.

Living is easy with eyes closed

I need to find my core. Need to find my own place. Need to be able to smell the daffodils and go to Innisfree.

I was so proud of myself for how I handled today. It was such a happy day too and then I came home. Big Mistake. If I had known it was going to bring me so down I would have made some bullshit excuse to stay at the library or anywhere. It wasn't that home wasn't bad, or that there were chores and crap to do, it was just that I came home and logged into my myspace to check a message. pretty normal, right? Yeah, but what I saw, whom I saw, photos of my past coming alive in the present, recently taken pics, and I know I should just delete our mutual friend forever and just forget. And I was forgetting, every day being easier, most days becoming the norm where the time passes without a thoguht of him. Like it should be. Because by now I should just move on and go. Go live. But it still affects me, songs, they bring back memories, and some of my very favorite songs that I have been listening to forever, I can't sing to because I will think of him all through out the song. And I know that I should just say fuck him, he's an idiot who didn't know how good he had it with me, and I know that he moved on, even before he left me for her, and he forgot about me long ago. Stop caring and I hate my heart for still thinking of him. For looking at the photos and saying to myself, I don't know that house. I didn't get a chance to. I should be there, sitting, with them, and I'm not and I never will be. And I wold have been alright, been better at handling these photos, the memories, if it wasn't for this early morning.

Early morning; I woke up, don't know why because I was having a wonderful dream in which Mr.Viking paid me a visit and we were just sitting across from each other on the floor, talking. That was it. And I woke up, couldn't fall back asleep. I started reading my current book; Belong to Me by Marisa de lo Santos. And it was going great, I was really enjoying it until a new character emerged, A new character who was dying already of cancer. And the waiting, the frustration. It just got to me, and I whispered down to the book, whispered into it. "I miss you grandma..." I really do, you were the one teaching me how to cook, even though you lived 300 miles away. No one else bothered, parents too busy, household too busy, and it was all by phone, and i was just trying to help, to cook dinner, and I just needed a bit of instruction, what spices to put, which ingredient is boiled first, how to make those salsas. How to cut that, and you answered every time and guided me through and they came out delicious, every time. Why wouldn't they? I'm real good at listening and you were good at directing, and I miss you and I haven't cooked anything since. Not anything complicated because sometimes being the kitchen it hurts, knowing I can't call you anymore and that damn book, she was dying,and there was nothing that could be done about the cancer, just like in real life. and I should be writing this in my private journal, my new journal, beautiful as it is, but I don't want to. I want to fill that with my hope, and just past these entries once I paste them out into the back of the book, as an afterthought, because that's all they should be to me. Afterthoughts of no real importance, and I should be happy. No real problems now. Nothing holding me back, so why do I keep holding on? I need to let go. I need to just be strong enough to let go.

And I want a cigarette still. and a drink. and maybe a fuck (for which the possibility is too real and oh so tempting). But maybe maybe I'll be strong enough to throw off those urges. maybe not. I just need to breathe.

An epiphany with a song.

Sometimes there is that gem of a song that you have been listening for years because it's a great song on it's own with a sweet beat and nice vocals. And then days, months, years past, and the song is still there being great but then you just find yourself in a place, on a night, listening to music and the song hits you. And it hits you again and again and the lyrics just grabbed at you, and you just find yourself relating and going, I never figured that one day I will be in a situation that I could sing this song with my actual heart behind it. and this was just a cool song and now it means the world. Now it describes me and I just wonder at how the songwriters knew. How they knew that people would find themselves relating to this and what had they gone through in order to be able to write down so well, to capture it, and to form it into a song that just makes you breathe and realized that yes, this song is you, and yes it is other people too in their own way, and that out of everything, that life goes on, and that you're not the only one with those feelings. And now finding myself there with those words. I get it.

Am I more than you bargained for yet
I've been dying to tell you anything you want to hear
Cause that's just who I am this week
...
I'm just a notch in your bedpost
But you're just a line in a song
...
Drop a heart, break a name
We're always sleeping in, and sleeping for the wrong team
...
Wishing to be the friction in her jeans
Isn't it messed up how I'm just dying to be him
...
We're going down, down in an earlier round
And Sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it.
...
Just pull it. Just fucking pull it.
.

I can honestly say I get it. I actually relate, and not just fake relate to it like many teeny-boopers middle schoolers who related to the love game, or who wanted to make a bad romance. No, you don't you're only 11-12 years old, and you don't know what it's like to be a dancer in the dark, and if you do. I'm sorry, but I'm not talking about the exception, I'm talking about the majority, the normal girls.

But I can honestly say that I relate to those lyrics. :/ And I had my motherfucking epiphany, sitting here, typing up my homework, and the song comes on and I'm listening to it, singing along, not even paying much attention to the lyrics when I hear that, I'm (he's) just a notch on your bedpost and he is, you're (I am) just a line in the song, I really am.

If it comes to anything, that is just what he is going to be, and all my potential might be just that but I'm just letting this out. just writing it out, get it out of my system. Because I'm just going to take it as it comes, and let the chips fall where they will, and I'll be right there to step it up.

Hello hello

I didn't get into a slump but was unusually wearing an indifferent frown, with all the bouncing being blown out of me. But today I woke up and I decided no more. I woke up and decided just like I always do, I'm going to do my own thing, and to hell with everyone else. & I remember that the place where I belong is not in the arms of another, that's just a comfort, but within myself, in my writing. & even if that sounds egoistically selfish, bordering on narcissism, it's my truth. my life. my passion. My words, my books, reading them or writing them, fulfills me more than any hookup ever has and ever will. So it's back to writing. To getting up early and remembering to make that sacrifice to make time to do it, even at loss of sleep. I'm sleep deprived anyway. With that, I just have one thing to say:

Stop calling, stop calling, I don't want to think anymore

about you anyway)


*Dance dance*

Destiny is calling me.

Listening to: Mr. Brightside- The Killers, I've just seen a face-The Beatles.

Reading: A scanner darkly- Philip K. Dick.




Truth: I'm scared that it's Just a hookup. And nothing more.

Truth: I'll be okay with that. but not really, and I don't want to get attached and I know I'm overthinking and just let it flow, see where the dice finally land BUT I need to write this out to get it out of my system. To just admit that for once, I don't want it to be just a hookup and I'm scared it is. & it's just going to make me wonder whether I'm just good for hookups but not for dating. There I said it, just a good fuck, nothing else. Is that just going to be me?

I Hope NOT. I really HOPE not, and if it is, if I don't find that person that just meant for me or CP, then I'll know I'll happy and find substitutes for it. Substitutes in my writing, and live out my life to the best without another chance at the big L, and not lust but Love. So I hope and after today, after unbelievable, I saw him, chances of chances on campus, and then ran after him, literally took off and left my best friend calling me a bitch for ditching me (xD I SOWEEE xDDD I love you Mikko, haha) but I just couldn't let it go. i had to go, because i didn't want to live with the regret what if I just let him go, let him walk by. It's that determination that drives me, not towards guys but everything in general, people just don't take opportunities standing still, they go, run, fly after it with their heart and hopes, and I did. & it was nice, beautiful, sweet, rad, cool, nothing out of the ordinary normal conversation between a girl and a guy, two people connecting on a level of knowing something is happening but not knowing what and I was happy to leave it at that, not over think it, over-analyzed and just get his number and he has mine.


And then he called me. Tonight, a few hours ago. And I missed it because I wasn't paying attention to my phone and now I'm just thinking, what does he really want? Why is he calling me??? Hookups don't call. They say they're going to call and they don't. & he didn't say anything but bye after exchanging info and "he keeps calling" (me back again) & is it just a hookup? & if it is, then why do I care so much if it is?
I can't. I shouldn't. I know my boundaries way too well, and the only thing I can do is see what tomorrow brings.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow.

Too Late, or not?

I know I have been using this blog to vent out, rant out, and just write hate, and all the feelings of the downside of humanity on and in between, have ignored posting anything else and making my lie if anyone reads it, a living hell. But it is not, on the contrary, hard to believe, I am known as the happy, the cheerful, chirpy, actually funny, amusing, bright, too hyper one, and I intend to keep it that way. Once I write down my soul and the breaking of it here, I'm good in person, and I guess that's just called therapy so without further ado I present the reason why I started writing this blog in the first place: BOOKS :D and to keep track of just what I read and when because I like lists like that.

Winter break 09' December 09- January '10:

And I started with

1. The Hottest State by Ethan Hawke.
I adored it for it's fuck up-ness of it all. Short, simple, and yet unnerving in it's portrayal of reality when it just goes wrong and there is nothing more ordinary than that. And yes it's that Ethan Hawke who wrote it.

2. Destination: Morgue!: L.A. Tales by James Ellroy.
I was amused and then he lost me. It started out as CSI and then it just blended in, there are some very good stories in this collections, and others not as good.

3.World War Z An Oral History of the Zombie War by Max Brooks.
Just plain AWESOME :D

4. No Time to Wave Goodbye: Jacquelyn Mitchard
Sweet sequel, but The Deep End of the Ocean still has my heart.

5. A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess.
What a mindfuck, and how lovely it is.

6. Impulse, Ellen Hopkins

and

7. Identical by Ellen Hopkins.
Both separate novels but I love Hopkins' writing so much that I was binging on her work.

8. The Wonderful Wizard Of Oz (Comic book form) edited by Eric Shanower
Just beautifully done.

9. City of Thieves: A Novel by David Benioff.
A seriously underrated writer. I thought 25th Hour was bad ass and Benioff outdid himself in City of Thieves

10. The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
Might be the only children classic I didn't get into. Something about the narration not connecting with me. I liked it, just not connected with it.

11. Go Tell It on the Mountain by James Baldwin.
School's Book club requirement. I was skeptical because of it's grim covered and thought I would not enjoy. Oh how wrong. I enjoyed, greatly.

12. Prophecy of the Sisters by Michelle Zink
I adored this YA mystery, just adored to the point of picking it for my own personal book club, and so far so good, everyone has loved it, and how exciting, we're going to have a skype chat with the author at our next book club meeting :D

13. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson.
A classic, a weird book, creepy.

14. The Burn Journals by Brent Runyon.
Another underrated YA, this one a memoir often mistaken for a novel because no one can hate themselves fully to set themselves on fire, could they?

15. Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. I was finally pressured into reading it. Enough said.

16. Girl, Interrupted by Susanna Kaysen. Very well written, especially for a person who was "unstable". Ends abruptly.

17. Peter Pan by James Matthew Barrie.
Don't ask me why I didn't read this before. It's a classic for a reason. <3

18. Tricks by Ellen Hopkins
Another Hopkins' book, and my last one before school officially kicked in with a new semester. And I really finished with a bang that this book offers. Hopkins just brings out the worse in humanity in YA Novels pair with the best of her writing, making us aware that how we were taught as who are bad guys, those stranger dangers, are just ordinary people and how easy it is to fall into a path you thought only 'troublemakers' fell into.

--- And unfortunately that's all I had time to read for in my winter break. Many visits from both family and going about with friends, distracted me from reading and writing too much. I'm hoping that Spring Break will help but as for now, school days are lovely in these gray cast skies.

Hello Toilet.

What the fuck is wrong with me! >_> I have no reason to be emotional. I'm fine. But yeah after making a call to goddamn pizza hut I went to the bathroom and heave, nausea being within, demanding me to get on my knees because I might spew whatever I had for breakfast. And why?

Because I was on the phone placing a damn order for pizza. I was on the phone and this guy who answers. I know him and I don't. He's always there. I picture this guy, in hs, with a greasy forehead from the kitchen, rolling his eyes at having to explain everything because I don't order often. And yet I can hear him smiling, and says no problem when I ask for him to repeat, and most likely because I smile too on the phone.

I wonder what he would say if he knew he's the only guy I have talked to on the phone outside my friends. No boyfriend means no phone calls. & I missed the phone calls the moment I thought about it. I probably spaced out which is why I had to be like excuse me a few times. Whatever.

BLAH.

can't wait till I see burn.

I don't care much for Januaries. I disliked them very much and try not to hate them very much. Nothing happens in January except for bad news in the past few years.

Jan 07- learned my grandma's cancer was back. Has it really been 3 years? Years. Weeks. Days. I still miss her.

Jan 08- Learned my dad had a hernia and had to undergo surgery. As well learned that my grandma was not expected to make it through the spring. She made it to the summer of that year. At least we got that.

Jan 09- ... Who knew? & I still haven't recovered from it. Mostly maybe, but until I have another guy to kiss beyond lust, I won't know.

Now I'm just waiting to see if this January will break that curse and I hope. I hope that I will wake up and find these overcasts days as romantic instead of damn depressing.

Brightside

I bought a new journal today. It's beautiful. I love it. Does it mean I should stop posting here? One part of me does because who really reads this? I can hardly imagine even my best friend to go through this muck and take a look at every post. I doubt, I know he loves me, but he doesn't have to love me that much. I think what I'm going to do is print out (nearly) all of my posts paste them into my journal. That sounds like a good idea and then once I paste them, I delete on here. Because more than anything, this was my journal, till I got something concrete, something that I can write in. And it's bittersweet because of what happened to my last diary which I wrote in for nearly two years. Two years of writing gone, along with my booklist that I've been compiling since 2003. Gone in less that a week, a day, gone to me because of that trust, that relationship that ended. Gone along with other books, and my music. My CD's. Everything just gone, along with my heart. It hurts me still, and it's been a year and I start breaking down and I just write because if I don't, I won't know my place in the world anymore and just hurt. I need to write because it gives me hope and buying a diary just makes me move on because I bought it for myself and like CP says, I have a responsibility to the reader, to me, to take care of myself in this case, and it is hard, but so what, I have to move on.

It feeds my soul.

I write. That's not secret anymore.

What is a secret is my state of being when I write. What people don't know is when I'm writing, I give all of me, no holding back, and it's the reason I do it at night with my door lock. I tend to get as emotional as my characters are when they are going through situations.

& I thought my second book was hard to write. This one is proving to be a trip, making me listen to those songs I shouldn't be listening for my own good. Songs that bring back heart ache, bring me back to a place of pain, a place of where I should be getting over from. & I take that hurt and I try to put in my writing. But once I stop typing, it's still there.

& I just hear the lyrics over and over again.
Do you even know how much it hurts?

You gave up on me to be with her.

Lyrics that haunt me. Burn through me as I write.

& what really makes me just want to die, just die, is that he didn't even say he was sorry. Didn't say any of that. What he did say was that he found the love of his life, and that he was getting married, and it wasn't going to be to me, and she was right there listening to him, break up with me, over the phone. Listening because I was on speakerphone and he said those same exact words to me. To me, he told me I was the love of his life. He and I talked about our children, names, about how after I got my B.A. we were just going to get the hell out of town, both of us, and start anew, with me in school, and him working. It was beautiful, and it still hurts, and it's been a year and it explains why I'm so fuck up.

& why I cling, desperately hold onto every inside joke, every word, every speech, every little dorky geeky little reference that my dream guy makes. Because every time I hear him giggle, actually giggle like a little boy, and say wow, and then reference this armor racing snail arms dealers that his sister wrote about him, about him, I forget. I forget and I laugh and I smile, and I think there's hope for me yet. There's still hope. & it's a stupid dream really, but I dream it because if I don't, I don't want to know, I really don't.

I just hope that my books are enough to get to a place where I could make my dreams a reality.

I hope with a broken heart.

...

Never feels more at peace than when lost in her own world, writing, while daydreaming away of him, tugging at the edges of her heart of hearts. Her dreams. Hoping he is more than one.

& I found that love was more than just holding hands.

I'm dreaming of him again.

& it makes me happy. He makes me smile. I just wonder how long will I dream this time, and whether I will ever be able to make them come true.

& I hope so much that it's heartbreaking to think of him sometimes. It just hurts, not knowing. Always wondering and being almost powerless to change it.

& it's silly, loving him like this, but the way I smile when thinking of him, I just can't deny myself the chance, the what if. & I work towards it. hoping. always hoping and waiting.

Looks away.

Sometimes I amazed myself at how well I can play the part.

Meh

Just another verbal vomit entry. I feel so unwanted. I want to hope. I like him more than I thought I did and it's so hard to admit to myself that it means nothing. It's just emailing back and forth. and that's it.

I'm trying to keep my spirits up and I'm on this up and down trek of emotions, having a really great time with my family visiting and being out playing tourist at nearly all hours, discovering new views of my city and all it has to offer (clubs, eateries, slots) and people watching, seeing all the hotties come out to play from all over the world, and yet when I'm done playing tourist, and I get a little time to myself, why is it that I just want to shut myself up and sleep and not be aware. Not be aware of anything being wrong but I feel it. The melancholy taking me in, and I just don't know.

Le sigh.

I'm hoping despite knowing it'll take a miracle of miracle, and the more guys I burn through, the more guys I get to know, I get to meet, to fuck, to play with, to just flirt with, to dance with, the more convince I get that the dork is just for me. & I know he is just a dream but sometimes his geeky speeches with their fantasy, sci-fi overload references are the only thing that makes me smile.

:(