I’m sinking like a stone in the sea.

June 6, 2009

6/6/09

I keep taking deep breaths because it feels like forgot how to breathe. I breathe too slow or to quick; not taking in enough oxygen or too much air. During the school year my little brother would breathe through his mouth heavily. Sometimes he would cry at night and I didn’t know why. It annoyed me terribly and I kept trying to explain to him why he didn’t need to breathe that way. Now I know the feeling. All of the sudden in the middle of the day I think, I don’t know what to do. You are probably thinking, About what? Well, I don’t know either. I just feel so utterly overwhelmed by everything. It’s summer time, right? I shouldn’t bother having to feel this way, but I do. And I am scared. I don’t know what will happen in a few hours or even a few days. Nobody really does. I mean, you might have a few events mapped out, but you don’t know what those moments of the day will feel like.

I went to my mother for advice and what she said was, “Just go and babysit. Once when you get home you can figure out what to do next.” I liked this idea, but this is all new for me. I’m used to planning out my day and setting goals, whether I realized it or not. This unpredictable schedule is throwing me off a bit. Today, I don’t want this day to slip away from me like all the other days do. Wasted and chasing time. Please time, stand still for only a day or two.

Brand New’s album Deja Entendu feels like my soundtrack. The events probably don’t quite match up, but the instrumentals capture my mood. In some songs Jesse Lacey almost whispers and I turn up my volume to savor his words. Especially in “Tautou”, which is one of my favorites though it’s only a minute and a half long.

I want to make this day last, but I don’t seem to know how. All I know is that I don’t want Monday to come. Please, not yet. If everyday was Saturday then I’d be fine with that. I’m still confused why I’m scared of what is next to come….

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Be Somebody

March 4, 2009

If I had to choose one song to die to, I would never be able to choose. Thursday’s “Understanding In a Car Crash” is just so perfect to me. Almost like poetry. The lyrics are just so brutal and beautiful. The guitar puts you on edge as goosebumps crawl up and down your arms and legs. Hot tears bubbling at your eyes; deep breaths.

So push the seats back a little further
Roll the windows down and take a breath
I can see the headlights coming
They paint the world in red and broken glass
The spinning hubcaps set the tempo for
the music of a broken window
When the lights are on and the cameras click
We open up the lens to broken glass and it’s over in a flash

Or another favorite of mine is “The Scientist” by Coldplay. The lyrics, Nobody said it was easy. Nobody said it would be so hard. ring in my ears like they are something to live by. Honestly, living is the hard part, death could be rather easy. You just die. That’s it. Everything. Gone. Over. Nothing more than that. Now Lovedrug’s “Doomsday and the Echo” is oh so lovely. I adore every last lyric to this song. I cannot even begin to explain how much I love it. “Everything Starts Where it Ends” is brilliant as well, though there is something about “Doomsday and the Echo” that makes me itch over each sentence as though I should be analyzing it.

Can’t walk it off
Can’t come clean
               Later going on to…

Hey, just woke up and already I’m a losing
Messed up everything again
Drink up, pass the gun again
Hey, just woke up and already I’m a losing
Messed up everyone again
Someone pass the gun again

I got to thinking about this subject after thinking I was a failure. Playing guitar is one of my dreams and I have to succeed at it. Guitar lessons have been going… not so good. At least I don’t feel I’ve been doing nearly good enough. I want to friggen’ shred! I want to riff and rock. I want to be up on stage, sweat dripping from my body. Being a phenomenal performer such as Jason Hale or Jimi Hendrix. The spectacular sound as well, maybe the cleanest you’ve ever heard? I want to be the best of the best. Each lesson I’d like to be told I am amazing at guitar even if I am still a beginner. I would love for those words to be spoken honest and truthful. I guess plan “B”, which is writing, is what I should try to shoot for, for now. I’ll do my best to improve my writing each and every day. Giving every writing assignment 110% percent whether it is stupid or not. As most have you have heard the saying, “No problem.” let me introduce a new one to you all. No promises. 

Reader,  I don’t fully understand myself either, but leaving earth with a sad song just seems like a good way to go. When I die I want to be cremated, I want my (Alleged I suppose. Though trust me, Kat Von D IS going to tattoo me.) tattoos to tell my story before I am burned to ashes. I want them to play one of my song choices for death. I want to be remembered.

Current song of choice at the moment, “The Undertaker’s Thirst For Revenge Is Unquenchable (The Final Battle)” by Chiodos.

And all the world’s a stage
I existed because I dreamed
And well, I dream no more
I’ve given up on the entire human race


Brought To Tears…

February 18, 2009

02/17/09

Last night while watching a To Write Love On Her Arms video on YouTube, I came across a video called “The Way She Feels Part 2”. Curious ol’ me, I clicked on it. It happened to the be the making of Between The Trees’ music video for “The Way She Feels”. You see Between The Trees are big supporters of the TWLOHA foundation. In fact, they knew Renee Yohe before To Write Love on Her Arms was even started. The lead singer, Ryan Kirkland, had befriended Renee. Though it was a big burden to carry, Ryan remained trustworthy of Renee. Finally it got to a point where it was almost too much, and they needed to get her to rehab. — Anyway, back to the video. — The song was written about Renee and her struggle with cutting. As I watched this video for the first time last night, I was just barely in tears and had become the start of a new Between The Trees fan. As of today, I know all of the lyrics to “The Way She Feels” and I savor every last bit of them. Reader, the beautiful song, “The Way She Feels” by Between The Trees.


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.


The Little Things

February 2, 2009

Today I was at least hopeful, and not completely negative. In fact I was secretly excited to go to PE, but keep that a secret. I’m trying hard to focus on my work when Sarah, Veronica, and I get to talking about the Katy Perry concert. Veronica: “I really want to go, but my mom says no since it’s at a bar. But I might get to see The Killers!” My heart sinks. I cannot remember if I spilled the beans or what, but I pray to god that the tickets will soon be sold out before she gets her hands on them. Me: “Oh.” That was all I managed to say. Veronica is barely a Killers fan; I wish I could strangle her right now. I come back with, “Yeah, I love The Killers. I have all their albums.” I understand that was a total cat-ish thing to do, but to be honest, that was what I was aiming for. Yeah, yeah, she knows one song. In my book, that is called a poseur fan. You might not understand how it can get under my skin so much, but I like doing things on my own. Without friends to ask to “hang out” with me when all they do insult me.

 Sarah speaks, “Phoenixx don’t take this the wrong way, but my brother thinks-” I finish for her, “That I’m to young to go to Warped Tour. I know, you told me.” She goes on about how he said I was too young to go to concerts, listen to this kind of music, “besides I might think I know what they are talking about, but I really don’t”. Now, the last of that sentence was a quote. All I could think was, WHY DOES HE (YOU) ****ING CARE?!?!?! It’s not like it is any of his business. Note to self: Never speak of any concerts near my “friends”… ever. This is one reason why I love to isolate myself from everyone. Just when I’ve dusted myself back off, they bite back with words. I reply to Sarah, “What I am I supposed to listen to, Hannah Montana?!?!?!” I wish I could scream in her face. In fact both of them, but I’ve got a “good girl” reputation and I wish I could show them my venom.

 Later that day Madeline comes over to me, “Phoeni, I can’t believe you are gonna bail on me with the Katy Perry concert!” I’m sorry, but I would like to save my money for other concerts and merchandise money. I reply to her, “I’m sorry, but I wanted to see The Killers.” “Yeah, but still.” she continues. I respond, “Yeah, but it’s THE KILLERS.” Veronica was sitting next to me. Of course then she starts talking about bands, which leads to a dream she had, which leads to money. With that someone asks what she would do with the money. Veronica: “Um, go to concerts, buy clothes, shoes.” Go to concerts was her first answer. I know for a fact she wouldn’t even have thought about it if I hadn’t brought it up. God, why do I have to be such an idiot?!

I suppose, I shouldn’t get mad over things so little as these, but it’s the little things that make me itch.


What a Day

January 29, 2009

Today I was shadowing at the school I will go to next school year. It was nerve wracking thinking about it, even though I was only going to follow a girl around her school all day. I had to be awake by six thirty this morning to make it on time. School starts at 7:10 for them, which sucks for me. The school is in the downtown area which is about a twenty minute drive.

I arrived at the school building feeling panicky, my mouth kept twitching with anxiety. (What a wuss!) I had to go through the metal detectors, then into the office where I waited for a girl named Rose. I stood there with my little bag which held a couple pens, a notebook, my lunch, and a book (“Burned” by Ellen Hopkins to be exact). When Rose arrived my mother signed a slip and left. She turned and looked at me, smiled, and spoke, “Your lip just twitched.” then gave me a half hug. Rose and I were then asked to the guidance counselor’s office to be asked questions about the shadowing. It took a couple minutes, but was taken care of with a phone call to my mother.

While I was in a few of her classes I had time to make a couple journal entries. My first was in her French class, first period.

Journal entry #1

There isn’t one boy in the classroom. I looked around the room several times to see all girls populating the classroom. The class was interesting. When they spoke in French it sounded intriguing, minus the fact I hadn’t a clue what they were saying. The words that were flowing off their tongues sounded so… hmmm… interesting, though that isn’t the right word. Oh well. The teacher seemed nice I suppose, though I haven’t known her long enough. Challenging for sure, at least from my perspective. Maybe this is a class I might want to think about taking up, it is just the comprehending part I’m worried about. The students were reading from their books, as the teacher would call out names to read sentences (some girls were obviously unsure about what they were reading). Then we had to listen to an audio tape and identify what they were saying. To end class, they played a game where the teacher would call out a word in French and the first person to write out the word in English, correctly, would earn their team a point.

 SCHEDULE 7:10 -2:10

– French

– Health

– ??

– Band

– Lunch

– Latin

– Geography

– English

A couple hours passed and I didn’t write a thing, but I did read. Health was scary. The kids were crazy, loud, rude, creepy, disrespectful. The whole deal. I just sat there staring at the pages I was easily reading. Afraid to look up, feeling like a million pairs of eyes would be staring at me. I recognized a kid who used to go to my school. Only because of his neon, lime green Converse, I saw. Then I looked up to see his long brunette hair that I remembered. Finally the bell (buzzer really) rang and I was saved.

The name of the next class was unknown to me and I never found out. I felt more comfortable in this room. As I read more of my book. I held a uni-ball pen in my hand for no reason really, just something to hold onto to boost my comfort zone (like wearing jackets ALL the time). A girl Rose was friends with talked to me. Mainly about books. She said had read “Burned” and told me it was amazing. I then noticed she was carrying “Thirteen Reasons Why” around and we both agreed it was pretty good. 

Band was next. Rose didn’t really stop back at her locker so we kept on walking  (rushing) down to the band room. In that room I recognized another boy from my school, his name is Austen. He is quite mischievous, he looked the same in the face, maybe a little more mature. Medium brown skin with a vague red tint. Whatever. Unfortunately I didn’t have much time to read during band. Though the class did not play their instruments, instead they filled a work packet while the teacher handed me one to look over.

LUNCH. Whooo!! Eating lunch was easy. Talked with a couple more of Rose’s friends. One who I thought was awful, the other liked the same kind of music as me. In fact we both said we loved Brendon Urie from Panic At The Disco, and I told her I saw them in June of last year. She was in shock that they even came here and then it turned to fake sadness. I ate most of my lunch, while still being asked, “Are you new here?” (which got rather annoying). Yet, I still felt like the odd one out. After lunch we shimmied back up the steps to Latin.

Journal entry #2

Latin. It’s interesting so far. Though I am yet to hear someone speak the language. I was handed a quiz paper and a book, even though the teacher was told I was shadowing. He told the class all of the questions to the test can be answered on page 175 in the book. I thought, What the heck, might as well fill it out. Not knowing the timer would go off I took my sweet time writing down the answers. I think I wrote down at least six, complete sentence, answers when the timer went off. With that I think I’ll just recycle the paper, besides I won’t be back here until next school year. The teacher started asking the questions from the test, which lead in to other discussion. The teacher seems nice, humorous, or at least trying. Though I haven’t seen him mad so I can’t label too soon.

Geography made me freak out. I didn’t like it, but I don’t really like school at all so…. I was in the front row, yet I still had trouble reading what was on the board.  They were taking a pop quiz and when I didn’t answer the question I felt (and heard) kids getting mad at me. I felt like the teacher was staring me down, maybe I was just paranoid. My next journal entry.

Journal entry #3

Okay so I know I want to come here next year. It is definitely challenging. The only things I’m afraid of are the early mornings (gotta be up by six and there by seven), the students, a couple teachers, and the hallways in between classes. Hopefully I’ll have a few friends to face it with me. Right now I’m going to try and relax before the time comes at the end of August. (And during the last week of summer break that I’ll have to “prep” for those wonderful (note sarcasm) early mornings.)

English was okay. I wish they had a better teacher, but I didn’t see the students “in action” either. My last journal entry.

Journal entry #4

So this is Rose’s last class, English. She told me about her “bipolar” teacher, I guess could agree. Things are pretty simple at the moment. The class is tame (which is again, mainly populated by girls). They are correcting and finishing their papers, while I read some more. I’ve gotten some great reading in today. Though not much writing time because I’m afraid kids will read my notes. Back to the book – My mom picked up a copy of “Burned” by Ellen Hopkins for me yesterday night and I’ve already devoured 350 pages. YAAYYYY!!

Once the bell rang I grabbed my things out of Rose’s locker and waited for her to show me back down to the office. I walked into the office to find my mother waiting for me.