small-town mindsets

I just saw that Hunter is talking to Ashley again and that is probably the entire reason that he is in town.

Fuck. Me.

I should never have thought for a second that he would want me back. There is no fucking hope for this. He probably only put that on his status so Ashley would see it. And I can't quite explain why he put his email address on the forum but it was probably purely for the forum. What the fuck am I doing. Why the fuck should I still care.

Fucking forget it. I give up.

I give up on it all.

oh my god, is that haloparty

I played about three rounds of Halo tonight, and for the record, I killed at least one person each time. I even killed four in the last game, but I think it was total luck. A lot of Halo is luck, really. I can see myself getting good at this and all, but I think I'd only find it fun if I played it with everyone else, and they're all leaving for college...

I was wrong, Hunter did wish me a happy birthday. I just didn't notice it till this morning, because he did it in the worst way he could've possibly done it. Instead of telling me via MSN, where I could respond right away and he'd face the risk of instant rejection (there's no risk at all, really, he's probably just insecure because I haven't been paying attention to him the way I used to when we broke up), he hid behind a not-quite-so-instant Facebook message.

He said "Happy birthday, Turns out I don't forget everything after all." Funky capitalization included. I wrote back "Thanks, I guess." to send a sort of disappointed vibe. Because I am disappointed. I'm disappointed as hell.

I feel like slamming my head into a wall. I want to actually see each other and speak in person, not do this "talk to me first" tango. I miss him terribly anyway. He does seem to be dropping hints that he wants to start talking again, though. He posted his new email address (the one that I was never supposed to know) on the forum that he knows we both frequent, and his status on Myspace says that he's in Kennett. He never announces that, or at least, I've never seen him announce it. I don't know, the more I think about them as hints, the less they seem like hints, just happenstance.

One last thing about Hunter before I close: I'm not sure if it's reliable at all, considering Cassandra doesn't have Facebook, but his status is single and he isn't looking for a relationship. God, does that come as a huge relief.

I just hope I'm the exception relationship-wise.

super seventeen?

The best gift by far this year was getting to talk to Jared at the wee hours of the morning and realizing what a genuine person he really is. It restored the chunk of my faith in humanity that got raped by the bitter reality of the situation that I'm currently dealing with. I could go way in depth on what I learned about him, but I'm not really in the mood to write a big speech about morals. I have the message history saved, anyway. I can always just look through it and brag some other time.

Hunter popped up online for about an hour yesterday. It came as a surprise...for about five seconds. And the fact that he couldn't even muster up enough nerve to say happy birthday to me didn't exactly blow my mind either. But I wish he would've at least said hello...there won't be anymore special excuses to say something to me for a long, long while. He was listening to Hey You, by Pink Floyd. I seriously thought about messaging him and telling him to watch The Squid and the Whale since that song is in it and that's where I first heard it. But it was my damn birthday, I shouldn't have had to message anyone first. Not even if it's about the gift from God that is Pink Floyd.

All that aside, for my birthday I went with Plan B: ridiculous amounts of fun. I went to Jonesboro with Jared and Breah and Mellie and Jake. I always feel a bit like a fifth wheel when we all hang out together but no one seems to mind, so I guess that's all that really matters. I kinda feel like they're the older siblings I've been wishing I had, the ones who understand what's going on with me and would like nothing more than to remove Hunter's legs and beat some sense into him with them. I really wish he wasn't younger than me now that I've gotten this far. These ten months between us are making more of a difference than I thought, but if he ever gets past this then our next relationship might actually be a lasting one.

Gah, I keep veering off to talk more about Hunter. Goes to show you what the main thing on my mind always is. Back to the birthday celebration...

I finally bought a few things that I've been needing: a guitar connection cord (in a very nice blue shade, I might add) and the book about hormones that I borrowed from the library ages ago and really liked. I'm going to hit up Amazon for the rest of the Sylvia Plath books that I've been looking for and I've also got to find Final Fantasy IX. I still haven't had a chance to play that, and I really want to.

I thought about buying the Pink Floyd poster with all the naked girls on it, but I figured that would be kind of a strange thing for a girl to have, even if I do insist that I think it was a well done design and not some kind of soft porn. It is a really creatively designed poster; I probably should've bought it anyway. But I just got the Wish You Were Here one. Not quite as colorful, but still pretty cool. And I also got a really nice, short blue strapless dress at Pacsun. It was a bit of an impulse buy, but when I tried it on again at home I'm glad I got it. It's flattering.

I've already learned a few things about being seventeen in the short time that I have been, because I feel like I've been climbing towards this point for several weeks now. I thought I was going to hate this age for all the heartache it'll bring me, but I think being seventeen just might not be quite as bad as I expect...

womanly symptoms

I had a feeling it was going to start either right on or right before my birthday. Boy, do I know how to call it...

I can't decide if I want to have a bad birthday or a good birthday. I've thought about either staying in bed and moping the entire time, and I've thought about going out and having ridiculous amounts of fun to distract myself. Either situation is equally shitty compared to what I expected.

I thought that by this time Hunter might have snapped out of it and would show up and surprise me.

I should know it won't happen, but I'm still hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping and

cheap soap & failbagel

I'm glad the sun went away and it rained. I'm just not cut out for the obnoxiously bright countryside afternoons that I see so often. It makes me feel obligated to go out and pick cotton and square dance and screw my cousin or something.

I prefer overcast skies and rain to anything else; the kind of weather that gives your house a dim, gray light and percussive background sound, and tells you to stay in and read and play guitar all day. Granted, an atmosphere like that looks a lot better in an urban setting because the colors match, but there is one good thing about gray skies in the country. Every color of the world looks muted except the grass and leaves, and the relative dullness of everything else makes their deep green color seem even more vivid. It's kinda mystical.

I'm probably the only person in the world who would prefer it rain on her birthday.

At some point today I hit an extreme low and considered offing myself, but now my brain is totally empty of thought. I want to worry about everything, but my neurons just aren't calling up any of my usual concerns. I guess it's a subconscious survival mechanism of some sort. My brain probably knows that if I consider all this shit any deeper, I'll just go into a downward spiral that'll end with my head in the oven.

I think the shutdown happened while I was in the tub, soaping myself absentmindedly for probably over thirty minutes. I don't know what the hell I was doing, but boy, do I smell GOOD after all that. I used the crap out of that cheap bar soap that I bought last night with Jon. Ah, which reminds me of how I've been failing consecutively for the past 48 hours...

At nine o'clock last night, I went to Walmart looking for the cheapest soap I could find. I was looking for cheap soap because good soap is supposed to moisturize your skin and make it nice and smooth, but my skin produces enough moisture on its own. I discovered that since I'd been using that cheap hotel soap I stole from the Sheraton in Kansas City, I haven't had any body breakouts. So there I was, on the hunt for a bar soap that would give me the squeaky clean feeling that the hotel's cheapy stuff did. After about twenty minutes of trying to figure out which cheap soap smelled the best, I decided on some $2.50 Olay stuff and we left.

Well, I get to the car and read the package, and it says "doesn't dry out your skin like regular soap."

Then, this morning I got up and decided I wanted to eat a sesame seed bagel. So I take a bagel out, stick it in the microwave to defrost, and then cut it in half. So far, so good. I stick it in the toaster, set the settings to bagel, and wait. It pops up and I discover that the bread side that I'm supposed to butter had hardly been toasted at all. Well, I waited a little while for the toaster to cool off, then I popped them back in again. I figure, oh well, I like them crispy anyway. It pops up again, and it's still hardly toasted.

It was then that I finally noticed that the wrong sides of the bagel halves were burned to hell and back; I had put them in the wrong way.

As for the rest of the day, there was that spaced out soaping incident and the fact that I am now very shamelessly wearing matching pajamas. With kitties on them.

And thus have I failed for two days in a row.

laundry hamper

There are shirts and pajama pants and undies askew
Socks scattered everywhere, most white, one blue
The ratio of dirty clothes to clean is about fifteen to two
I'm tossing in the shirt I slept in, the one that used to belong to you

There are more books on the nightstand then there are in the case
The papers on my desk have been accumulating since May
I don't think I've made my bed in over forty-something days
Why bother, there's no one to lie in it with me anyway

The only things left to eat are the bottoms of chip bags and a poptart
Some goldfish crackers, a popsicle; I really need to go to Walmart
It looks like an F-5 tornado has totally blown the kitchen apart
This house is a mess and it's reflecting the state of my heart

pancake panic

Updates, updates...

I got some modeling gig through my cousin, but it's in Taiwan, so obviously I won't be taking it very seriously. I'm really just doing it to entertain small-jo-ma, who wanted me to do it in the first place. I guess it'll just be a summer thing for when I go home and visit the fam. After looking at my headshots they asked me to send some half and full body shots so they can decide what I should model. I'm sorta flattered, but I swear, I'm only considered pretty in the Eastern hemisphere.

My birthday's in four days, and so far the only friend that cares is Jared. The other night when I went over there to chill with everyone, I played Halo (and sucked at it) and then played GTA San Andreas for the first time. And I. Could. Not. Stop. Laughing. It was like everything I want Crazy Taxi to be. I killed an old woman by punching her repeatedly in the crotch, then I gunned down some random pedestrians and when the ambulance showed up I shot the driver, stole the ambulance, and ran over more pedestrians with that. Then I beat a bunch of hookers to death with a double-sided dildo. Violence is just unreasonably funny to me. Ever since I was a wee tyke, I've always laughed whenever I saw something explode or get shot/hurt in some way.

Anyway, what I'm getting at is, he has an old copy for PS2 that he says he'll give to me as a gift. And on my birthday at 10:10 pm (which is around the time I was actually born) we're planning to go to IHOP.

jared says (6:36 PM): you should have epic party
jared says (6:37 PM): at IHOP
jared says (6:37 PM): yes
Hanna says (6:37 PM): lmao
jared says (6:37 PM): we'll go to ihop at 10:10
jared says (6:37 PM): and there will be pancakes
Hanna says (6:38 PM): that actually sounds pretty awesome
jared says (6:38 PM): its a plan
Hanna says (6:38 PM): LET THERE BE PANCAKES
Hanna says (6:38 PM): who would go
Hanna says (6:38 PM): no one likes me
jared says (6:38 PM): i don't know
jared says (6:39 PM): we should tell alot of your friends about it
jared says (6:39 PM): and not invite them
Hanna says (6:39 PM): lmao
Hanna says (6:39 PM): no one would care
jared says (6:39 PM): we'll make them care
Hanna says (6:39 PM): "there will be pancakes" "FUCK"
Hanna says (6:39 PM): "WE'RE MISSING PANCAKES, WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE GOING TO DO"
jared says (6:40 PM): lmao
jared says (6:40 PM): exactly
jared says (6:40 PM): there will be panic
Hanna says (6:40 PM): pancake panic

the 24th: part deux

Just thought I'd hit up the blog again for a bit of a rant.

I hate it when girls write these big long paragraphs about how they want to meet the guy who will kiss their nose and tell them they're beautiful and call them just to let them know he's thinking about them and play with their hair and this and that, because about ten of those guys actually even exist, and seven of them are gay. Love isn't about that at all, those are only the perks that you hope will come with it.

When you fall in love, you accept the entirety of a person, including their flaws and what they don't have. You need an eternal, inexhaustible patience for them. You have to be accommodating and understanding, and you have to appreciate every aspect of them. You have to love their temper, their stubborn streak, and their forgetfulness. You have to deal with all the issues that stem from who they are as a person. And even when you hit a rough spot, even when they toss you aside like a piece of wet Kleenex, even when they seek to replace you, even when they forget about the level of emotional intimacy you reached together and just how much it's really worth and how rare it is, even when minutes become hours and hours become days and days become weeks and weeks become months and you are still waiting, still waiting without saying one fucking word and relying solely on the faith in how powerful your connection really is


you stick by him.



Because you love him.






...you idiot.

things with wings

Something Jordan said in her grad speech keeps flitting around in my head.

"God only gives us obstacles because He knows we can overcome them."

But in what way will I overcome this? Will he come back, or will I be able to let go completely? Either solution is equally unlikely. There haven't been any improvements since April. Hunter still seems ludicrously happy, hasn't said a word to me in weeks, and could probably care less. I'm still sad all the time, even though I am better at channeling the pain through some separate reality. It's like there's a copy of me constantly following me around and crying so I don't have to. But everything still feels the same.

At some point today I had this huge, inexplicable wave of hope, thinking that he'd never have the kind of connection and intimacy that we had with anyone else and the power of that would inevitably have to bring him back. I suddenly felt secure. It made me think of a crane: big, strong, pure and beautiful. Effortlessly climbing the altitudes. A god among the sparrows.

...crashing and completely incinerating.

letters to bethany #1

Dear Bethany

This letter will probably just be about a whole lotta nothing, but at least it’ll be legible. I think.

I’m not sure if there’s a penpal protocol that I should be following, but I figure most things begin with an introduction. I’m terrible at describing myself, though, and I feel strange doing it. Our perceptions of ourselves are usually warped anyway, kinda like how our voice doesn‘t really sound the way we hear it in our heads. Depending on the approach we take, it can make us seem like we’re glorifying ourselves, deprecating ourselves, or just trying too hard.

Maybe as we get to know one another, we could write an About Me for the other person. And we don’t live terribly far apart, so we could meet up at Barnes and Noble sometime and you can laugh at how socially awkward I am compared to how I sound on paper.

I always have a knack for saying the wrong thing, and laughing when everyone else stops or being the only one who finds something funny. What you‘re reading might seem all put together, but the girl writing it doesn’t sound like this at all in person. It’s too bad everyday relations aren’t in writing; if it were that way I think I’d be fabulously popular.

There are kinds of cutesy body language that could trick people into thinking that my social retardation is just a quirky charm, but I’d probably come off as a ditz. You know, those girls who can say something stupid and then they giggle and bounce around and bite their lip and blush and everyone just laughs it off. Screw that, I’d rather just be weird. If I ever did that I’d probably instinctively punch myself in the face anyway. I can't stand that.

I love to read about psychology and human nature and the like, but the more I read and the more I observe people, the more I realize that they just suck. Assholes breed with other assholes and passively condition their offspring to become assholes, and they continue this long, dysfunctional chain of asshole-ism without ever understanding that there is something horribly, horribly, horribly wrong with them because it’s all they’ve ever known. That whole sentence was an English grammar nightmare but I'm sure a lot of this letter has been/will be. Anyway, that’s the "highly scientific" conclusion that I’ve reached after years of watching people do what they do and then experiencing love with the product of generations of warped views firsthand.

Things have become so much clearer after some recent (not to mention recurring) events with someone very close to my heart. The reason that things are happening and have been happening this way has suddenly become very obvious in my mind. It’s like I started with a pool of foggy water, but as things progressed drops of color have been added to it until it became very bright and opaque. I understand this, I understand him, I understand our past, but I can’t do anything about it. I can only wait for him to figure it out on his own. To climb out of this hole he dug for himself.

If he ever does...

I’m sure you’re probably pretty lost, and I’m sorry about rambling on so aimlessly for four pages, but if I write any more my hand is going to fall off. The letters aren’t going to stop here, anyway. You’ll eventually know the whole story, that is if you’d like to. Hope to hear from you soon!

Yours, Hanna

jack of hearts

My mind's all mixed up again.

Well, I like to think that it is, but everything is actually very obvious. I can't do a damn thing about my situation because it's not my fault anymore. It never really was, but it's a lot clearer now. I'm not sure if the wakeup call lied in the ridiculous, implausible reason that I was dumped, a sense of repetition, or if something just happened to click. It was probably all three.

Whatever prompted my enlightenment about what was really wrong about my relationship, I'm glad it happened. I cry less and I have more fun now that I've stopped blaming myself. It doesn't stop me from missing Hunter, but it's a whole hell of a lot better than the sobby, pathetic mess our breakups used to reduce me to...

I beat Freecell games #211, 529, 211529, and 529211 today...

paopufruit4u

Let's sort this out

I'm sad stupid lonely angry hopeless impatient irritable moody more cynical than I usually am and constantly in need of sleep

Ha, it kinda sounds like I'm pregnant.



I don't know


Most of all I'm just frustrated






and losing the firm footing that I thought I had

fantasy impromptu op. 66

The only things I have to say about my trip is that Kansas City is not near as impressive as I thought it might be, and South Koreans are Nazis about piano.

Now that that whole ordeal is finally over, it's fairly smooth sailing from this point on. All that's left to stress about are finals, particularly the Trig and Chem ones. Once I'm past that then I can finally relax and spend some quality time with Jon. He has amassed probably an hour and a half's worth of songs to carjam to, and he's going to get those awesome generic gummy bears he always had in his car to munch on. We have to go to Sonic, because it's like our tradition, and plan to stay up all night playing old video games. Once we have a whole day to ourselves, we're going to film Stranded on an Island, Part Deux: (Cross-Dressing?)Zombie Islanders.

I really appreciate his friendship and support. He's never one who I can talk to about my relationship problems, but he knows how to make me forget about them for a while and just have fun.

For the last couple weeks of May, I've got to finish Alex's epic shirt and take the three pictures we've been planning to take: The Thinker, My Little Asian, and wheelbarrow run. I have an idea for a funny video if I can get Jon to film it. Oh, and I've got to get rid of the seven tanning sessions I never used. I didn't need them back when I should've used them; I got dumped. I might as well buy a few more while I'm at it. I also need to get around to getting my ears pierced like I've been wanting to for months...

I'll be pretty busy throughout the month of June. I'm going to get all of my tutoring hours out of the way for the A+ program, and hold up the job at Tropical Sno too. By the end of the month I'll finally be able to relax; Mom will be home, I'll be finished tutoring...no more messy house, no more annoying children, and no more pressing obligations aside from making snocones and driving around. Well, in July I'm going to visit New York for a week, but that's not an obligation in the negative sense. It's family time.

I'd love to go see NYC while I'm there, but gas will probably be too expensive. Auburn is at its most beautiful in the late summer, anyway. Spending a few leisurely days at the lake is just as good as wandering the urban sprawl.

Hopefully there's another Halo Party before everyone ships off to college. We need to have one last hurrah.

And hopefully...Hunter will show up sometime this summer...

:(

goodbye junior year

I'm going to miss this graduating class more than any other, especially since I've made even more connections with them lately. These are people who appeal to all sides of me: the intellectual, the dreamer, the sentimentalist...friendships that will last forever because of a kindred connection. These are the kinds of friends that I could lose contact with for years, but pick up right where we left off when we get back in touch.

I think the key ingredient that will make these relationships last is the mutual appreciation for each other as people. Just for who we are. I really cherish that, not just because it's extremely special as it is, but because it's the one thing that my relationship with Hunter lacked. He might've loved me, but he never really appreciated me for who I was and all that I gave. He only looked at faults, and ways that it would fail. He has never looked at what he stands to lose. I think that was probably why he can give me up so easily. Oh, I don't know.

The school year of 07-08 began and ended poorly as far as Hunter and I go. I'm in the same place that I was back in August, but I have a new and clearer perspective on my relationship and people in general. It's still hard to have faith in his eventual return. I lose a little hope every day. But if...when? he comes back, I know that things will be even better than the best times before. They always do on the encore.

He justifies his actions, be they positive or negative, by saying "things have changed." He always uses this phrase to take back a speech about how he'll never be with me...or one about how he wants to get married someday.

But in the end, nothing ever really changes.

shut up shut up shut up

I'm not sure why I miss you so much suddenly

but I do

I read through my previous blogs and now they sound so ridiculous

Everything I've been working on seems tacky and trashy and unexceptional and nothing is good enough

All of the music I've been enjoying lately sounds like garbage and I don't feel it and I can't understand why I even liked it so much to begin with

The friendships I have created on a fragile foundation of charm are truly just another distraction and not as great and wonderful and valuable as I made myself believe

I hate it when people do something shitty thinking it's the right thing to do when in actuality it's completely wrong and fucking stupid but when you try to explain it to them they never understand because it's all they've ever known and you get so frustrated and confused that you start to question everything that you've learned

I hate people and I hate the way they act and the way they think and the way they treat each other

Assholes breed their children to become assholes and it's not their fault but they break hearts and they rip away peoples' faith in humanity and they don't get that they're doing it and even if they ever did the damage is done

and I had a draft that I was going to post from earlier this afternoon and when I look at it now I see how stupid and superficial and hopeful I sound and that's not true to what I really feel

I feel like shit

and I feel like you will never come home



please come home

operation bandaid

I'm having a horrible time concentrating in class lately. Not only is it nearly the end of the school year and my brain is on a slow auto-shutdown but the parts of it left functioning are preoccupied with missing Hunter. Mrs. E could not have picked a less opportune time to pile on the pre-calc. I have two weeks' worth of assignments that still aren't finished, finals fast approaching, a penpal to write, and our senior t-shirt to design...and I can barely bring myself to even give a crap, much less get any of it done. I'm going to try my best to get it all over with in one shot today, but I doubt it's going to happen.

The state piano convention is coming up very soon now, and nerves are starting to swirl around the pit of my stomach. I'd love to win, but I expect to be up against some pretty tough competition. I've probably played Doctor Gradus over a hundred times total now, so I'm pretty confident in it, but when I perform under pressure I tend to do poorly. My hands get clammy and slip on the keys, which is definitely not good when you're playing a fast piece like mine.

On a side note, everything is starting to seem more and more connected. It can't just be coincidences, it has to mean something. I've been asking for signs, so maybe I'm getting them.

PS: I found this great site that puts my massive vocabulary towards a good cause: clicky

5000 grains and counting!

butterflies

There are so many thoughts rushing through my head that I can't pin any down to examine them more closely.

I hope and pray that love prevails.
But then I wonder if it's really over,
and I consider other connections,
but when I say anything out loud
I know I always go with my heart.

And my heart says his name immediately when I ask it a question, regardless of how confused I am.

There was love there on his part, I think. What convinces me the most is the way he said goodbye the last time he was here. I know that something had to have been there because when he said or did something that felt real, I felt like a child. Usually I feel high above him because I care for him more deeply than I think he will ever be able to realize. But when he held me like that, I felt juvenile; like I didn't quite understand something that was going on. Maybe that's why he left. He probably felt like that all the time. Always under my wing.

I never thought Hunter would be capable of a love like mine until a lot later. A love that's so overwhelming, it makes the recipient feel small and incomparable to it. But now that I think about it, every time we had the time to say a long goodbye to each other, I always felt that. Shadowed by his feelings for me.

I cried really hard last night before I went to sleep. The kind of cry that makes you sore in the morning.

everything and nothing

Tonight Melodie and Jake dragged me out to have some fun for the first time in several weeks. I smiled, I laughed, I struck stupid poses for the camera, I sang along to whatever song they blasted on the stereo. But I didn't feel like I was really there. I watched traffic lights blink and tried to convince myself that my heart was shaped like the simple ones that people draw.

We picked up teas (and Jenni) from Sonic and went to the Halo party at the Solid Rock Church. They have them almost every weekend, but this was the first time I'd ever been. I've never attended because it's pretty much a sausage fest and Hunter would spaz, even though I'm not and never have been interested in any of them. For his sake I've just never gone to one, and it's never really mattered to me anyhow. But that's where Jake decided to take us, so I figured whatever. Hunter's probably got a girlfriend by now anyway, so he shouldn't care if I hang around a few dudes for an hour.

They were up to their usual antics. We hid Jenni's shoes, played Rock Band, watched the guys battle it out on Halo, and ran around screaming and yelling like idiots. I got tickled to the point of almost peeing, because I'd been progressively eating the ice left over in my tea cup the entire time, but at least I got a piggy-back ride out of it. I was serenaded, too, which was hilarious.

By eleven I was home. My dad was playing his music so loud that I almost had to kick down the door to get him to open it. Inconsiderate prick, it was nearing my curfew and he turns up his shit so loud he can't hear me knock? Whatever. I had to plug headphones into my computer and jack the volume up so I could actually even hear my music.

I can't sleep for all the tea I drank, and all the stuff on my mind. I guess I can't purely have fun doing this kind of thing whether I'm with Hunter or not. If I was with Hunter and went to a Halo party, I'd worry that he'd get angry with me for being around a bunch of guys. When I'm not with Hunter I'm miserable no matter how much fun I try to have. Just another one of the many ways that he's ruined my life.

I'm starting to get a headache, and I rarely ever get those. I can't tell if it's because my music has been too loud for too long or if the pain in my heart is metastasizing.

Probably both.

I wish Mom would get online; I really need to talk to her.

here we go again

I think I have five or six abandoned blogs floating around in cyberspace, and probably even more journals and notebooks that I've written three entries in and then cast aside. Hopefully I can be faithful to this new blog, at least for a year.

Lately it's like I've bared my bones. I no longer feel the need to force things or impress anyone. I just going with the flow. I feel very free and pure, like I imagine I would if I were washed in bleach.

I am colorless and clean.

Lonely, though.