Restless.

I not mature, I'm just smart.
because being mature requires experience, and being smart requires being observant.
Sitting and watching. And that's all I've ever done.
And I have to stop. I can't get any smarter.
I'm restless.

Wrong section.

I think of you sometimes, when I look in the mirror and see the person you used to see. And It makes me happy to be that person again, and sad because you were the only one to see her.
And you are gone.
How did I go through this much of high school with out going to a hockey game? I looked over at all of them and noticed that I was sitting in the wrong section. These entire four years, I have been sitting in the wrong section. With the wrong people. And I know that I will look back and wish that it was more than it has been.
I've never been able to understand how she can be content with not taking chances. It bewilders me to an extreme that she can watch people having fun and not wonder what it's like and not want to join them. It seems inhuman. And I've missed my chances, because high school is ending. And I'll never know.
On graduation day I'll cry, because of every homecoming, and basketball game, and dance that was not enough. I feel like I havent "done high school" the right way. I haven't had all of the fun experiences so many other people have. And I want to know what that feels like. Why can't I know what that feels like?

In this moment

I've been getting this odd dizzy feeling lately.
It's almost like I can feel the earth spinning.
Like there's something in me that refuses to stand still
In this moment.

Fear is the heart of love

Fear is the heart of love because youre afraid to hurt them.
You're afraid to dissapoint or embarrass them
Or be somone they're ashamed of.

And she said, "It's so ugly, It's almost beautiful"

Goodbye.

I don't fucking have my entire fucking life figured out.
I won't pretend to know what I'm doing, or that I'm happy when I'm not.
So goodbye.

2/11/11

We're all murderers and saints.
There is no difference.

Places.

There are places in my heart that even I don't dare to go to.
A dave matthews band song reminds me that I'm alive tonight.
I finally looked at the clock, just in time to make a wish.

Warning: this post is cliche.

See that I know what I'm doing.
I've gotten here without any help from you.
And you are what's keeping me here.
Suffocating.
And now I know what to say on a job interview.
And I know how to talk to college representatives.
And I've figured it all out by making mistakes.
And I don't know if I will stop being disappointed
When I ask for help and you don't bother.
And I embarrass myself. Again.

Why would you want me to end up like you?
Killing myself to do work I hate until I can't function anymore.
Why would I want more of that?
Unhappiness

Turning down the music.

Lately I've been finding myself in more and more of those unexpected situations where you don't know how to react how how to respond or what to say first. Sometimes I wish I was one of those people that could come up with a lie to smooth everything over on the outside when I need to. To save myself the embarrassment of being so painfully honest. Caught on the spot, I am an unorganized, stuttering mix of messages. Too much all at once.
I don't know how to talk to you, in a way that you'll hear me.
And sometimes I wonder, when you yell the way you do, if what you want more is to be heard, or to hurt me. Each time you hurt me differently. It's a different reason for the same thing.
Why don't I turn down the music for you. Maybe it's because when I want to find quiet I have to wait until three AM. Or maybe because if I did, that would make me "good" in your eyes, and I'd rather you just see me. Maybe because you're already mad when you ask me to. You assume your "authority" instead of just being. Can't you just be?

The worst feeling:

Seeing your friends having an awesome time without you.