I like secrets ’cause they keep me in line.

August 13, 2009

I wish I could play dead like Johnny Quid. Johnny knows a good RocknRolla is worth more as a dead man, so his record sales go up. Johnny is a clever junkie, but like any junkie, you can’t trust him. Why do I want to play dead? Simple, my summer is almost over and soon I’ll be heading to this unfamiliar new school. Wandering the halls mostly alone and probably keeping to myself most of the time.

I want to keep looking back to last Tuesday and thinking how quick a week goes by. Time is very frustrating. I have realized time almost always does the opposite of what you want it to do. I know school won’t be completely miserable, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m nervous like anyone else. I have my school supplies, some new clothes and a new pair of shoes (all black Authentic Vans to be exact), and my school books. Everything is set and I want to pretend like nothing is going on.

Yesterday was my school orientation. A woman in the office told me where to go to be assigned a locker and be given my books. It was overwhelming and I most likely blocked out what she was saying. “Where do we go?” my mom asked me. I shrugged my shoulders and replied, “I don’t know.” Why is it that whatever advice or direction someone gives me, it goes in one ear and right out the other? Oh right, because I’m in denial.

Sighing is nice. It feels like I’m releasing a bunch of toxins that had been in my lungs. I sigh often now. I am melodramatic and slightly hystrerical. What are ya gonna do?

Song Of The Day – “Finders Keepers” by You Me At Six http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J36je4NC4zo

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Just a dream, right?

February 12, 2009

02/12/09

Last night I had a dream. You see, I don’t really like dreams. Mine usually seem to be connected to inner fear or just something stupid that scares me while I’m asleep, though when I think about it later it seems idiotic. It wasn’t terribly frightening, though it was strange. It had something to do with a couple topics I’ve had on my mind a lot recently. Cutting and To Write Love On Her Arms. (In fact I’m wearing my one of my TWLOHA tees right now.)

In this dream I was in some hospital/psychiatric ward. The setup was similar to parts of my house, yet like a hospital at the same time. It was vacant. I wandered the halls with a few of my family members (I only remember my mother and Eleanor), yet I kept ending up in the same place.  As if I was going in circles. So while wandering these empty halls alone, they seemed dirty or abandoned. Finally I came across a bed, in which was my former house guest, Abby. I was scared I didn’t know what to say or do, I didn’t want to go pleading sorry. I ran back in circles, trying to think things over. Finally, I entered a bathroom. In that bathroom I found a razor blade. No, not a three bladed razor you would use to shave your legs. I razor blade. I began to cut little slits in my hand, the one I remember most was on my thumb. I hesitated a moment and went on. They were not very deep, but enough to sting. Blood didn’t ooze, but I saw blood. — My hands are shaking while I type this post.– I was tempted to go for my wrist, but I didn’t slice through the skin, only because I had a fear of “bleeding it out”. All through school the thought of cutting racked through my brain, and I was scared.