The Best of You

I've got another confession to make,

I'm your fool

Everyone's got their chains to break,

Holding you

I just read through my last post, and while it sounded totally kick ass and had the whole "i'm over you" vibe to it, I think I can say it maybe a lie. I probably typed that when I'm in one of my moods, one of my I don't want to love you moods. Where I get completely pissed off. It is, an intergral part of my overall process of getting over someone. Because for all I do, for all I try to forget, he's got the best of me.

Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
The life, the love
You'd die to heal
The hope that starts
The broken hearts
You trust, you must
Confess

There'll always be a soft spot for him in my heart, and I know i'll be able to forgive him for whatever he may do. It may sound utterly pathetic and weak of me, but I'm no fool. I'm getting tired of starting again somewhere new. So I'm not going to go through the whole cycle. Instead I'm going to do something I should have done, instead of hiding behind my words, or tears, I should have dealed with it. I can't go through my life hiding. Well writing is, and always be an outlet for me, but it shouldn't have to be the mask behind which I hide.

I try my best not to indulge in hypocrisy. But honestly, its hard. I don't think I can ever truly always say what I mean, and mean what I say. There will always be those little moments where to save my pride, or to put up a brave front, I'll lie. And maybe that makes me a lesser person, but I'm not ashamed to admit it. So with this whole issue about this one boy, who's always in my thoughts, always the catalyst for my actions, all I can say is that I should never underestimate the power of time. Time is too short, to fast, to ever completely dwell on one issue forever. So this boy, whose name perhaps one day I'll be brave enough to type, will be a fleeting memory. When I think of him, I'll always have that small tinge of regret for what could have been, but then I'll remember all our moments, yea, we had alot of moments. In those moments, we weren't burdened with anything else. It was just him and I.

It may sound cliche, but thats the only way I can describe our friendship. Its so unhealthy and all consuming, its destructive, but I love it. I wouldn't trade it, even if it is what causes so much heart break. I know I sound stupid, crazy and slightly physcotic, but I can't help the way I feel sometimes.

I tend to swing from the opposite ends of the spectrum, always either scalding hot or icy cold, never neutral warm. Never grey, always black or white. But I don't doubt for a second that its wrong. Its gotten me into trouble yes, caused me to be too passionate, caused me to make stupid choices, but it was always what I wanted to do. Never have my choices compromised who I am as a person. And that is one thing i will never ever change.

I needed somewhere to hang my head

Without your noose

You gave me something that I didn’t have

But had no use

I was too weak to give in

Too strong to lose

My heart is under arrest again

But I break loose

My head is giving me life or death

But I can’t choose

I swear I’ll never give in

No, I refuse

So in due time, I will get over everything. The problem with teenagers, is that they face every ending as if it is the end of the world. I am no excpetion to this. I am only sixteen, and my life has barely started. To place all of my hopes on teenage boys is maybe naive of me. I have realised that when you're looking for something, you rarely ever find it. Most of the time, it comes to you when you're not looking for it. Instead of actively trying to find someone, for once, I'm just going to enjoy the journey and not worry about the outcome.

Why is it that people need to find people to be happy? Even the most seemingly uncaring of men would probably have loved, wanted and needed someone else at one point in their lives. So much so they stop caring about everything else. Like the fact that instead of moping around, I could get off my ass and do something different for a change.

Sometimes I feel as if I've grown up, but then I look at my posts, and realise that all I am is a scared, sixteen year old, not ready at all for the world. As much as it pains me to say it, I still have my rose coloured glasses on. Though I am not illusioned about the plights of the world, it seems that I am still blinded when it comes to people on an emotional level. Mainly the relationship, friendship part of emotions. Is there ever a time when you'll just know everything?

Maybe when it all ends, when you're taking your last breath, as you're surrounded by your loved ones, and you smile, then everything makes sense.

So to that boy, I'll probably never forget you, but over time, I'll think of you less and less until you're memory, stored and kept away.

Hollywood Whore

I almost told you that I loved you

Thank god I didn't cuz

It would have been a lie

I don't think much has happened since my last post.

No, I lie.

I got my head out of the clouds where I keep all my thoughts of him. I am happy to say I couldn't care less about that fucktard. Yes, he's a fucktard. Perhaps you don't beleive me, since I

'm actually taking time off to write about him on my blog, something that contridacts indifferance.

But that's just the way I deal.

I write, be it because I hate or love someone. So I decided that I had enough of whining and crying over some guy that barely saw me in that way. Well it might be the end of our friendship, but if he was really my friend, lets just say things would have turned out differently.

So I guess here's the part where I give some vindictive speech about how its his loss, how sorry he'll be, blah blah, but I can't say that'll be true. Lets face it yea, he might be as good as it gets. But that is not going to stop me from having fun.

I decided to take the advice the many over cliched "live your life like its the last day" crap feel good movies, and move on. Crap something's wrong with me. First I start to identify with sad angsty teens, then I start to take advice from badly written romance movies?

Dammit something's wrong with me.

In other news, in an attempt to salvage any romance I might have had before the whole spectacle, I went on a date today.

CRAP. I HAVE BECOME ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE WHO BLOG ABOUT THIER DAYS!!

I better go now, before I start recounting everything that has happened to me.

Fuck.

Painting Flowers

Strange maze

What is this place?

I am even more so in love with All Time Low. They haven't changed their sound since they first started out. Originality is something that has become a raritey, in pop culture. They try to produce a conformed sound, take out the essecne of what rock represents. Imperfection. Each song is a story, its feelings, poured upon a piece of paper.

Speaking of feelings being poured out, I have a lot to let out. This week has been, suffice to say, a total wreck. I haven't been able to sleep at all without wanting to cry. Friday, was the last day I would ever spend with my friends before its time to move on to other classes. Perhaps you think its silly of me to be so affected, but as I think I have been saying in most of my previous posts, I don't feel things at their surface value. I tend to think too much, and too deeply. I am a brooder. I love doing nothing more than thinking about things. Mind you, its substantial things.

So, on friday, it was water works. I could not stop crying. Throughout the entire day of "don't worry", and "we'll keep in touch," and "friends forever," there was this feeling inside of me that simply refused to believe anything that been said. It was the part of me that been left behind before, the part that been forgotten, when my previous friends picked up their bags, dusted their shoes and stored their memories, ready to start anew. I was left behind, unable to move as quickly as they did.

I am afraid this will happen again. I don't think I would be able to take it. I love these people too much to ever walk away from them. The problem is, I fear they will not have the same difficulty as I do. I hope and pray that they never fade away. I want them to be a part of my life, watch me make mistakes, and be right there to make them with me. I want them to be there when I need a shoulder. I just really want them to be a part of my future.

I fear I may have lost one of them already. He's my best friend, and god, I need him. But I'm so scared one day he won't be there anymore. One day he'll leave me like everyone else has. He already seems to not have time to spend time with us. I fear he'll replace me... I think that'll break my heart.

I know one of my other best friends, she's the most loyal friend anyone could have ever asked for. Fierce, confident and wild, everything I know I'm not. I love her too, and I'm scared one day she won't need me anymore. Without this two people, I don' think I can go on.

Perhaps you're thinking its too stupid of me to depend so much on people. Maybe it is stupid and naive to put too much faith into people. Like I've said, people change their minds so easily. So fickle, so easily swayed. I'm too trusting. I love these people too much. So invetiably, if things end badly, I'll be hurt. But it'll be with the knowledge that I had real friendship.

God I love him. This is a sperate issue all together. I love him. And thats why, he's the one who can so easily break my heart. I can finally indentify with those sad tragic girls people sing about in songs. Like that Taylor Swift song. The one about the girl being in love with a guy who's in love with someone else. He doesn't know anything, and I want it to stay that way.

He's got my heart, and he doesn't even know. Whenever he's not with me, I can't help but to miss him, I can't help but to wish he was there. Sometimes I wish he would just look at me, like really look, and then he'll know. Sometimes I see flashes of it on his face, but they disappear as quickly as they come. Like he's guilty he feels like that. And it hurts me that I made him feel that way.

Maybe its a blessing in disguise, this whole not seeing each other as often. It'll give me the chance to make things okay. It'll give me the chance to move on. Because I do not want to spend my days pinning for a guy. Angst doesn't look good on me.

I wonder if he knows he's all I think about at night...

One by one, the leaves began to fall.

I have a story planned out in my head. I know what I'm going to write. I have a plan. For my character. She's going to be a lost girl. Because everyone gets lost sometimes. It just depends if we're willing to find them.

Have you seen this girl?

She's about my height, she's got brown eyes too. She's quiet, shy, loves to read and write.

She loves to please other people. She can't remember the last time she had fun.

Have you seen her?

I'm thinking that the concept should be something like that. A sort of a "self" looking for "self". I'm not saying its going to be good, but its going to be honest. And real. As much as reading is a form of escapism, if your character's aren't real, then they'll forever be stuck on a page. They'll always be 2-D. The art is in trying to get the reader to identify with your character. To make them feel what she's going through, but still give them that objectivity that allows them to make accurate assumptions. If a book makes you cry, it accomplishes something. If it makes you think, it has accomplished everything.

That's my opinion of what makes a good book.

The Meadow

The rain pours down, wrapping the world in a blanket of dark grey storm clouds. A girl sits at her window, wishing she could play in the rain. Though it looks cold, harsh and unassuming, anything is better than staying her room, surrounded by bittersweet memories of love lost. Instinctively, she gazes into the trees, allowing her mind to guide her, once she can no longer see. There's a winding road, with brambles, and a ravine flowing close by it. Further and deeper into the forest she goes, as the path comes to end. Now, a choice has to be made. Continue on, and not know what lies in store, or turn back, and never come again.

She chose to continue. She always chose to go on. Because at the end of the path, there was a meadow. And there was a huge, old oak tree. It was filled with mystery and suspense, and as the girl sat under the tree and drifted off, she would dream of castles, princes and happily ever afters.

But she always woke up.

She always had to go.