eck,

i ate lunch today and now i feel absolutely disgusting.  not to mention last night i had half a sandwich from "jimmy john's," which also made me feel gross.  i want to throw up.

i cut again for the first time in over a year.
oh well.

iCreep.

it's what i do, it's what i'm good at.  because, as i've time and time again impressed upon the almost non-existing readers of what i write here, there is more than one of me and of those many factions of myself, only one is genuine.  the rest are a copy, a mirror image of what is expected from me, what people see when they look at me.  i am what you want me to be, whatever you want me to be.  i can be what makes you happy, what makes you angry, somebody you look down upon, somebody you fear.  i am what you need, exactly what you need exactly when you need it and those dumbfucks are too damn self-absorbed to see that, in their mind's eye, they have created an entirely nonexistent person.

so iCreep.  i watch them and i learn to read them from afar.  sometimes i conveniently mistake observation for loneliness.  those are never good times.

but iCreep with the full and reassuring knowledge (which may dim and wane but never ceases to glow in the crevices that have formed amongst my heartstrings) that i come from a place that still exists and will exist for as long as i need it to (which is always and always and always).  it is good to go back to that place, that unspeakable place where i love and am loved and just AM what i am, which may or may not be any of the things you inadvertantly pretend that i am.  i talk like i'm writing a neverending poem.

my point here being.

iCreep, and sometimes i like to pretend that there is more to these people than meets the eye.  i mean, there's more to me than meets the eye, yes?  so why not allow them the benefit of the doubt?  i find the things that they think are hidden (and peculiarly, they accidentally on purpose leave clues to these things because every single one of us wishes that somebody somebody somebody somewhere cares enough to figure us out) so i can, well, figure them out.  and you know what i've finally finally settled upon?

there's not much beyond what meets the eye.

anyway.

north carolina is beautiful.  i joke about how much i appreciate the vegetation but you'd understand why it's not so much of a joke if you knew how drab LA can get.  there are so many colors here, and so many.. livings things.  never did i think that i'd be so taken aback by the sheer magnitude of life, of interdependent life.  it's pretty pretty.

i get on with matt's family relatively well.  with his parents i can never be quite sure, what with them being.  you know.  my boyfriend's parents and whatnot.  i don't know what to make of them.  i'm not going to talk about matt's parents here though, god forbid.

i had an interesting conversation with his younger brother, though.  kevin.  i haven't decided whether or not i like kevin, but i have decided he is worth getting to know.  all three of us were in the red truck yesterday when matt remembered that he'd left something up in his dad's apartment, so he tells us to wait in the car while he goes retrieve whatever it was.  when he leaves, kevin (in the backseat) leans over.

"question."
"go for it."
he reaches around and grabs the back of my wrist, flipping it over, "what's this?"
"no comment," but i'm laughing.
he's quiet.  and then, "no comment at all?"
why so serious?  i open my car door, spit out my gum, door shut- "who's ambrosia?"
"just a friend."
it's quiet again and i wait for him to continue the conversation i've had so many times with so many people.
"no comment as in you don't want to talk about it?"
"no comment as in you're not allowed to talk to your parents about it.  and i don't want to talk to matt about it anymore."
"but we can talk about it?  you and i?"
"what do you want to know?  ask anything and i'll tell you."
"well.  hm.  um."  nobody ever asks.
matt's coming back.
"you think about that long and hard, kid.  and get back to me.  i'll answer whatever you can ask."

the thing with these kinds of deals is that nobody has the fuckin balls to ask me what they want to ask.  they ask me "why?" and "do you do it anymore?" and "are you okay now?"  but nobody asks the concrete questions that are running through their heads.  i want them to ask about the blood, the tearing of metal through human skin.  you know you want to.  it makes me feel vicious.

ambrosia, if you're wondering, is the name of his friend: a fifteen year old girl who hung herself earlier this year.  i wonder if he realizes, if matt realizes, how easily i could've been that same girl.  the one time i talked to matt about it i got a "she was just that TYPE, you know?  it was expected.  not a big deal.  kind of pathetic."  it made me really mad and i couldn't explain to him why because whenever i talk about these things to him i know how he sees it.  it's sickening and pathetic and he doesn't want to hear it.  i don't have the heart to tell him that this will someday break us but i hope to god he has the good sense to just know without me saying.

i think the worst part of suicide is the way your friends and family will try to cover it up.  the only people who will full on address what happened are those who don't give a flying fuck about you and their addressing is more negative than anything else.  if i were to go through all the trouble of killing myself, i want to make damn sure that everybody knows i am not just "a smart girl with a gentle soul... the best friend you could ever hope to have."  that's what's written in her obituary , you know?  that and "we all will miss her so very much, but know that she is resting in peace. we will keep her in our hearts forever."  bull fucking shit.  cause of death was never mentioned.

how do people like kevin price take it when they survive their friend?  friends aren't supposed to die.  friends aren't supposed to commit suicide.  friends aren't supposed to tear away their skin with sandpaper and hack into their arm muscles with pocket knives, or accidentally burn welts into their hands twice a week and laugh it off.  god knows how i dealt with it, but i don't think kevin and i are quite the same type of person.  so what does he do?  what would matt do if it were him?  i feel like the gap between myself and them is widening exponentially every moment of every day, and the gap between myself and matt is.  vast, at best.

so.  here i am.  sitting in the commons of duke law school, looking up the suicide of a girl that i shouldn't even have heard about simply because it makes me feel closer to.  closer to, i don't know.  mankind.  sometimes i'm like that red balloon floating  up, up, up, away, and it scares me.  if i float far enough away, i won't want to come back anymore.

this may seem like a bad time to say so, but i miss caitlin a lot.  i miss a lot of things that i associate with caitlin.  it's the same old story, it will always be the same old story with me.  i miss the summertime.

my brain is starting to lag a little so this is going to end now.

i'm starting a summer foodblog so i can keep track of my calorie intake:
6/24/09
1. banana pudding
2. small coffee w/half & half and sugar
3. a few pieces of a chocolate orange
4. 12 nachos

i'm not consciously dieting, i just eat less in the summertime. (:
 

i love it so much here i'm starting to think this is a mistake.  what i wouldn't give, what i wouldn't give.

i hate you.

"i don't think that's a good idea.  they're a part of my old life, i need to leave them behind me."

"but what about me?  i'm a part of your old life, too.  i wish you'd leave."

"you're a part of my new life, you're just a part of my life in general."



sometimes i think that if you give me enough hours in the day and a keyboard, i could write and write and write for days and days and maybe even forever.  a lot of times i think that, actually.  i have so much!  i have so much that i don't know how to say but i know very well how to write.  it's my natural state of being, putting thoughts into words into concrete black on white little dancing souls on paper, on the computer screen.  i have a million stories worth telling and if i could just have my attention span back for a little bit, just the little bit it takes to get started, i could take hold of it and never let it escape me again.  i just need a start- if i could just get started i think i could write until i find myself again.

that was an incredibly boring paragraph, probably not the best way to confide my desire to write.  nobody would want to read what i have to say after all of that!  HM!

i'm so preoccupied with words, these days.  my brain has noticed the warming weather and has decided that it's time to take me into that strange sluggish pensive state that i fall into every summer.  it's good, but it's not good when i have this many ap's and ib's in fields of math and science.  my enthusiasm was always meager at best but now it's absolutely impossible to force myself to think about such concrete things.  to hell with it!  the only reason i even bother is because i really do love mister wahl a lot and i enjoy being in his class, even if it's just to watch him sometimes.  i think he's happy in a strange, sarcastic, slightly disillusioned way.  that's the kind of happy i want to be someday.

certain people never cease to surprise me.  not ever.  just when i think i've got them all figured out, they reveal this whole new side of themselves that uproots everything i'd been so convinced of.  granted these people come few and far between, but their existence sort of keeps me hopeful about life and all that life entails.  nevertheless, it's finally got me so wound up that i really think i'm going to give it up, now.  i'm just going to miss people and love people and care about people in peace.  i'm going to stop fighting it, but i'm going to stop wanting anything out of it as well.  it makes me so tired, wanting.  i hate wanting.  i would just like some peace of mind, some contentment.  even if it's with mediocre circumstances.  nothing is mediocre when you're content.  AGH.

i also think it's time to let the people who have changed, change.

the mistakes i've made come back to haunt me more often than i'd like to admit.  i'm the type of girl who always thinks back to that one moment, that one note, those few words, that look exchanged, and wonder what would have happened had it not occurred.  had i not handed him the crumbled up paper, had i written something else, had i not watched him walk away.  maybe i'd be more whole, today.  maybe not.  maybe i'd be infinitely more messed up than i could even begin to imagine because the bottom line is that it did happen, it's happened, it's done, there's no going back.  still, i'm the type of girl who can't reason herself of wondering.  i'm sure i'm not alone in this, though.

really this entry is only being posted because i'm in that mood, you know?  the mood for writing?  but i'm not motivated enough to start something real, as in via microsoft word and all that shinanigan.  i am excited for school to end.  oh, and i'm coming to (sort of) south carolina, so oh_cory and _closingtime_ , will you be there this summer?

"why gamble with money when you can gamble with people's lives?  that was a joke.  all right, i'll tell you.  i believe in the notion that people are innocent until proven guilty.  i believe in that notion because i choose to believe in the basic goodness of people.  i choose to believe that not all crimes are committed by bad people.  and i try to understand that some very, very good people do some very bad things."

there's so much about josh i had no clue about.  i called ken today because i knew he'd want to hear about josh's most recent activity and i suspected that josh didn't visit anybody else on his leave.  i was right about him not knowing, but his anger surprised me.  apparently josh has changed, and the impression of him amongst his old friends is not quite the same.  it's not so much dislike as it is disappointment.  before he joined the marines, he was getting himself into a bit of trouble.  i had no idea he was abusing heroin.  i still can't decide if i wanted to hear about that.  nevertheless, i suppose it's important to know about my brother's drug use.  really though, heroin?  josh.  come on.

every time i begin to think that i am less of a child and have grown capable of understanding the things he doesn't tell me, i am shocked into submission by a revelation like this.  good game.

people don't understand why i'm worried about josh.  but they don't know josh.  i think ken gets it, a little at least.  josh is all up in this loyalty business that puts his friends above of himself.  he doesn't understand limitations, and he doesn't understand survival.  you don't send somebody like him overseas to fend for our country in afghanistan.  you get shot.  but maybe i'm just a naive little girl, maybe i don't know what i'm talking about.  maybe the world knows him better than i know him, now.  after all, it's been three years since we've properly cared about each other and people can become entirely different people in three years.  i don't really believe that, i have to tell you, but there's a difference between what i am willing and able to believe and what is blatantly true.

(i don't believe it at all.)

i do have something that i have come here to say, however, and it goes as follows:
until the day he returns, josh im is going to cease to exist to me.. and even when he does come back, i don't think i'm going to be here for him to come back to.  that, is all i have to say about that.

saturday was spent with diana and michael and justin in the morning.  spent in the backseat of cars meant for two, carrying four.  spent outside of mexican restaurants watching the world go by and talking about everything, nothing.  spent by the lake in the shade, reminiscent of third grade adventures when the world was more wonder than it was world.  saturday night was spent with jessca and rebecca and hunter.  i am having a hard time being fond of hunter.  he is more of a child than he was when he was a child, if that makes any sense with you.  jessca's pretty though.

and really to be absolutely honest, i think that i won't make it through the remaining three and a half weeks i have in this god forsaken place.  but it's stupid to think so, because of course i'll make it.  what am i going to do, dig a hole and sit in it for twenty-five days?  .. HRM!

anyway, this summer weather is good for the soul.  i don't feel like writing anymore.

almost, almost.

 

Smart people talk about ideas.
Common people talk about things.
Mediocre people talk about people.

i would never want to actually be the person i pretend to be.  i look at you and pity you.  dear whoever, everything i do is in an effort to get as far away from you as i possibly can.  love, me.

ps, if i were to blast my brains out right here and now would you miss me?

josh im came for me today.  i started this entry with "my brother came for me today" but had to delete it.  it just doesn't seem right anymore.  no, scratch that, i just don't want it to seem right anymore.

he's in the marines now.  his grandfather passed away and for some reason that i won't pretend to understand this indicates that he joins the marines?  whatever, josh.  for the last four or five months he's been training, first at camp pendleton which is in san diego and then in maryland.  i don't know where in maryland, but according to matt, annapolis is the only place to train in maryland.  okay, i'm not going to concern myself with the logistics of this whole thing, my estrogen level forbids it.  nevertheless, he's been in the marines.  and this is his ten day leave.  so he came for me.  he leaves again, soon, i believe he said tomorrow but i can't be sure.  and in just a little while he's going to be in afghanistan.  for a year, a year and half?

in answer to your question, matt, yes i do miss him.  yes i do love him.  are you serious?  is that really a question?  of course i miss him he's my BROTHER.  nobody takes us seriously because we're not biologically related but trust me, family runs a lot deeper than blood and bones.  i would know.  and i don't really want to say anything about this because i'll get overly emotional but i will say this:

although i am worried out of my mind for josh, i know this is good for him.  he's healthier and eats more.. but it's good for him in a more profound way.  you can see it in the way he stands and talks.  for one, he looks me in the eye now.  he's got a firm handshake and calls everybody sir.  he stands like a soldier, which may sounds ridiculous to you but the josh i knew stood and walked and spoke like he had something to hide.  now he is upfront and assertive.  it's both disarming and refreshing.  he still hugs me the same way he always does though, and he still walks with his arm around me like he always does.  he still eats my food because i make him and he still plays with my hair the way i like.  he still tucks it behind my ear when i look down and he still sweats a lot which is gross!  he still insists on carrying my bag and doesn't like it that i like boys but will talk to me about girls which is still awkward and i still get a little bit jealous.. it's not like that!  he's still obsessed with taking care of me, except now it's taken the form of making sure everybody left here knows to take care of me because he can't be here.  he apologizes and he tells me he loves me and he tells me he'll write.  he promises.  matt says that this is good bye (between josh and me, not matt and me, i realized that sounded strange), and that i'll never see him (again, josh) again, but matt is as presumptious as ever and, like everybody else, underestimates the value of family to me, to him.  i don't expect things to be like before, but i will see him again.  he will come back to me (and yes god dammit he will live through afghanistan) and he will eat my food.  i love him like i've always loved him.

i told him i forgive him, of course i forgive him, that i understand and that i only want what's best for him.  the absolute truth though, is that i haven't forgiven him because i was never angry.  i was confused and i felt betrayed, but a part of me always expected there to be something like this.  josh wouldn't just LEAVE like that.  not me.  not just like that.

i didn't tell him about the excessive drinking binges and i didn't tell him about all the shit i've gotten myself into, i didn't tell him about my tattoo.  all of a sudden he made me feel extremely self-conscious and extremely ashamed of where i've been.  i guess deep down i just want to remain as his little sister, the little girl who pretends to know more than she does to make it in a cold and unforgiving world.  sometimes i think that, in pretending, i've forced myself into some pretty unnecessary situations.  now it's not pretending anymore.  but as far as he's concerned, i will always be that girl.  it's nice to have someone still have some faith in me.

sometimes, it is good to be reminded of what unconditional love feels like.  his visit has reasserted my dwindling belief that i will someday, regardless of all circumstances, amount to something extraordinary.  i was destined for it.  and i would hate to let my brother down.  pray for him, friends, i will.

so joshua, if you ever read this, understand that, above all else, i am concerned with one thing and one thing alone: DON'T FORGET TO EAT YOU DUMBASS!  SMACK!

hm, in other news, miles christenson is dead.  i'm so sorry, tanner, i'm so so so sorry.  good night, and may he rest in peace.

matt,

stop using my old livejournal entries against me.  it is pathetic and ineffective.  don't you know?  i wrote those knowing that you would read them just like i write this knowing you will read this.

it means nothing, they meant nothing.  i love you, but that means nothing.

"in the years afterward, i fled whenever somebody began to understand me. that has subsided. but one thing remained: i don't want anybody to understand me completely. i want to go through life unknown. the blindness of others is my safety and my freedom."

...

sometimes i toy with the idea of college admissions officers finding my livejournal.  on one hand, it's my worse fear- i'm pretty sure this journal holds some pretty unpleasant details.  and possibly, some incriminating evidence?  though it would be hard for me to imagine any high school student who hasn't done what i've done.  i'm very generic, in that sense.  on the other hand, this offers a rare glimpse into who i am.  i think my personality is both my greatest attribute as well as my greatest weakness.  i'm always tempted to give it all up, give up hiding, and just be.  of course, what little common sense i do have tells me that nobody cares who i am beyond my numbers and my personality is neither strength nor weakness.. it's irrelevent.  still, i think that if i could just sit down and talk to someone rather than submitting an application that details my failures and successes in, what, quantum physics and calculus?  if i could show someone who i am, what i'm capable of, and how freakin passionate i am about living, learning, seeing the world in all it's beautiful broken glory..........

okay, nevermind.

i wanted to write my essay on love instead of contemporary feminism but i don't think that would have earned me an 'A'.

so.  i'm not exactly sure how to say the things i want to say?  i never really am anymore.  but i guess the bottom line is that, no matter how hard i try to convince myself that i'm happy here, i'm okay here, that this "reluctant camaraderie" is enough to keep me sane, it's NOT and i'm terribly terribly unhappy- i want OUT.

so at times when michael sneaks into my room and puts on "real music" or when nicolas, whom i refuse to call nick, tells me that i am his guardian angel just as he did two years ago or when i get up on stage to receive my trophy and all i feel is sunny hills cheering me on, taking me as one of their own because deep down it doesn't matter what school these people go to, it's THESE PEOPLE who are my people and when i'm with them i am finally finally at peace.

i used to wish, all the time, at 11:11 because i'm a 16 year old girl and do that, for peace of mind.  it took me a very long time to realize that i am unable to attain this peace because my entire being is waiting for a home coming that will never occur.  i came to troy to, above all else, escape the stigma of having been a cutter.  maybe still.  all it did though, was put me amidst strangers from which i need to hide- physically as well as emotionally.  i've rejected everything i am in an attempt to conform.  but god knows that i of all people suck balls at conforming.  what have i subjected myself to?

this was, and you can quote me on this later on when i've slipped back into sad oblivion, the worst mistake of my life.

the stigma, you know, it's still there.  people haven't forgotten and, being high school students, nobody is as forgiving as i'd like them to be.  the difference is that they KNOW, that they've ACCEPTED, even if they don't like it.  they look at me and, yes, they see the scars (it's nice not to have to hide them) but they also see all that i am on top of that.  and honestly, i believe that even the worst of them are human beings and my person overwhelms my reputation.  it wasn't unreasonable to have doubted them, but god do i regret it.

i think i've been on the verge of tears for the last four or five days and it's taking a terrible toll on me.  i don't know what to do anymore, i'm just done.  i am.  so done.

it's scary because i keep counting down to things- to the summer time, to graduation, but none of it is a promised return to the natural order of things.  summer time is a temporary fix that, as much as it is necessary, it's evanescent.  and graduation is not a promise, it's an opportunity, sure, but it's not a promise and if anything, it's going to take away more than it's going to give me.  but there's no going back, there's no undoing all this.  i could keep going, i could go for hours and hours and days and years and lifetimes, pouring out my regrets, but i am so unbelievably tired i think i am going to leave it up to your imagination.

what now?  i don't know.

"even if you cannot hear my voice,
i'll be right beside you, dear."

(via texts)
you are officially the fifth number saved in my phone.  one's my dad and one's my friend's mom and one's a number i needed for work so that puts you top two"

pf yeah i better be in your top two (: imma call you soon k?  not today but like this weekend or something.  you gotta tell me about mexico.

"ok i want you to as soon as you can.  i need a good heidi friend.  i sent you a fbook message"

i'll check it tonight, i'm in class til 10.  craig i'm so tired, i miss you.

"i'm just as tired and i miss you just as much.  i need a good person like you in mi vida."

you keep me going sometimes, you know that?

"i hope so.  i really care about you bud and i always will as long as you stay you."

(via facebook)
Hey hey now I just got my phone back and I'd really like to talk to you. I need a good friend like you more than you know. And don't worry about losing me now, it's about me losing you. We'll have a good talk I'm trying to change a lot of things right now





loving people is a tricky endeavor my friend.  you'd be surprised.

i want to cry but i can't.  it's like i've gone back two years and it's all starting again.  the only difference is that this time around there is a little less blood and guts to worry about.  that doesn't necessarily make it better though, you know?  you know, but he doesn't.  he thinks that as long as it's bloodless, it's healthy.  i wonder if there really are two types of people in this world, those who understand exhaustion and those who don't?  likewise, there are those who will understand the aforementioned and those who will not.  i wish that i could surround myself with people who do understand, but ironically the people i need are the people i need to stay away from.  not that i've ever been good at that.

discontent has been the theme of my lifetime.  when is it going to end?

sometimes i feel myself falling out of love and sometimes i think it's all just a ploy my mind plays on my heart.  i am no longer able to differentiate the difference between what i know and what i feel.  i used to recognize the difference but i am beginning to wonder if there is none.  oh and.  i hate the days when i miss people i'm supposed to hate.  it just isn't that easy.

when i write entries here, i like to pretend that somebody is interested and reading.  i try to make it entertaining for you (the hypothetic you, of course.  hypothetically.) but i guess it's hard to be honest and interesting at the same time.  maybe that's your style though, maybe you're into that.  i like you, my hypothetical you.  thanks for listening, all these years.

why are people so preoccupied with nihilism and existentialism and all those horrible -ism's and gods and FUCK.  what happened to living for the sake of living?  if you keep asking questions you'll keep getting answers and there comes a point where you have all the answers you could possibly want but you aren't satisfied, so you ask the same questions over and over again, hoping you'll be able to manipulate yourself into accepting an answer you know is not true.  this is a stupid game to play.  everybody wins except me, and that's not even the reason why i think it's stupid!

i am so utterly absolutely exhausted.  the kind of tired that's in your bones.  how many years have i been saying that?  how many more?  all i want is to sleep until the sun burns out.

anyway.  i leave for santa clara on thursday and i think it's finally time to break my four month sober streak.  commitment is overrated.  matt, i didn't mean that.  stop reading my livejournal please and thanks.  seriously.

i am ending this before i can get any more mean.  i don't want to have to console.  i don't like consoling.  i never mean what i say when i'm trying to make you feel better, i just want to end the conflict.  goooooooood-bye.

 

brian called me the other day and asked for tacos.  i spent the evening with him and caitlin, at albertaco in cypress, and was reminded that there is a place in this world where i am loved unconditionally, where i belong regardless of who i choose to be.  if i could have one wish it would be to find a way so that i could stay in this place forever.

four little speckled frogs
sittin on a speckled log
eating a most delicious lunch
yum yum
one jumped into the pool
where it was nice and cool
then there were three little speckled frogs

i am writing a story.  i am writing THE story, for the.. fifth time.  sixth time.  upteenth time, probably.  second completed time i believe, though i could be wrong.  it's now or never.

i went to pennsylvania and washington and virginia and to be absolutely honest, the only thing i got out of it was a biting realization that i am bound to my roots.  i could spend days upon days upon days talking about it, as i've been doing in my head for god knows how long, but it all just boils down to haunting indecision.  the escape i want does not necessarily lie in going far away; sometimes i wonder if the people i need are right here.  sometimes i wonder if it's life that stands in the way rather than distance.

we are the young and the restless, nobody does it better than us.  where the fuck am i?

reunited.

i need to get a new laptop, any suggestions?  i'm partial towards windows but if you can argue your case for macs well then i'll take your word for it.

 

i want somebody to fuck up my life so completely that i don't have to live it anymore.  any takers?

ps. i have something interesting to say but right now i have too high a fever (that has lasted way too many days) for me to able to come up with lucid thought so i'll type it out some other day.  okay.

THAT IS FUCKING IT
I HAVE ABSOLUTELY POSITIVELY LOST MY MIND