From the Hallmark Card my momma got me for my birthday

Don't sit around
waiting for somebody else to make you happy.
Happy is a do-it-yourself kind of thing.

Be true to yourself and to what you want out of life.
Broken hearts heal, but broken dreams don't.
(Plan accordingly.)

Make your own choices,
but don't forget-
you're the one
who'll have to live with them.

Take chances now and then.
Chance is just another way to say
that life is waiting
to open a door for you.

Forgive others,
and when you need to, forgive yourself.
See the good all around you,
even if you have to squint sometimes.

Love who you are,
and know that you are loved.
Always. Always.
You are loved.

((Wow Hallmark, way to be awesome.))

five.

happiness comes in different places.
in different shapes, and different spaces.

it can come when something is gone,
or when something is wrong.

and rocks hitting the windshield,
breaking,
cracks in the window.

but never shattering.

you can fix the cracks.
and the knowledge of that
is what can
bring happiness.

--------------------
re-do.


happiness can come in different places.
different spaces,
different ways.

happiness can be something gone.
something wrong,
something lost.

happiness can be something broken.
something misspoken,
something live.

and all these
appease
the trees
filled with bees
as we seize
this disease
and squeeze
the life out of it.

a short rant on my inferiority

this is all so stupid-
but i really need to get my thoughts out.
only one person would see this, anyways.

what i cant get over is how someone can just stop liking you so quickly?
i know that i didnt respond in the right way, but to just give up?
and its not like he ever told me he liked him-- i was just supposed to guess?
everyone was telling me this, though.
so it is all back on me.

but the way he did it wasnt very nice.
he just stopped talking to me completely.
he had other important things to do,
than wonder if i still liked him or not.
he has moved on to somebody else.

because he always had a little crush on her.
and when the time comes i'll rant a little on that.

the perfect girl and the perfect guy...?
i hope he is ready for another relationship--
even if it wasnt going to be with me.
but her...?
im not sure how thats gonna work out.

im prepared though,
to not love for a long time.
it took me seventeen years before i liked a guy,
and about seven months to realize i liked him,
and i was shot down before i even got to be with him.

i am basically failing at life already,
this is just another medal of stupidity
someone can come and pin on my chest
thats postitively sagging with medals and awards
of failure.

i like the sound of that up there.
but yeah... now i know.
i know that i am slow when it comes to liking someone--
love, i guess--
but if i am going to just be the "girl in the middle,"
when a guy already likes a girl but just tries to get me,
for whatever reason,
i should just give up.

everyone is mad at me for my failure,
and my failure to realize my failure.

everyone thinks that i dont understand--
that lots of people go through this,
that if the relationship is unbalanced it wont work,
that girls have to flirt if they like a guy,
...
but i got it. happy now?

i should have stayed upset when i thought he was avoiding me.
because although he said he wasnt- he was still trying to shake me off.
he lead me on for so long-- and then stopped.
i should have stayed ashamed and angry at myself,
but when i heard that he wasnt avoiding me,
i got happy. my hopes started lifting--
for that inevitable fall.
i just made it further.

i should have stayed upset--
because i was right in being upset.

but since he has someone else to chase,
i dont feel much anymore.
if he was getting rid of me to stay single,
it would be...
more upsetting.

i was too slow.
but i think that i will just keep on being me.
cause if a guy doesnt like me all that much,
he will just give up.
i'm not too desperate for a guy.
i want one, yes.
haha, finally-- what a late bloomer i am!

so late-- i will be eighteen in hours.

so dont feel anything for me:
happy
sad
proud
thankful
angry
understanding
jealous

or any variations of the above.
i just want to freaking live my life,
without anybody piling on more things for me
to worry about, or do.
because i have done enough worrying,
i have done enough things
in my lifetime that others cant compare.
my life has been freaking hard- and ive lost alot of people.
friends and family gone.
some, because of me.

my shallow heart will still keep beating--
if merely to keep my brain alive.

ooh, poetics.
okay, so now i dont want to talk about this anymore with anybody!
(yay, she's gotten over herself!)

hopefully, friends.
if i dont ruin something else again.

(haha, rhyme :D)

MUAHAHAHA. (+ a really bad poem, "don't")

i deleted the piece of crap up here.
because

although it was true, it was too
deep and scathing on my poor
soul.

lol, no. it was too overdramatic and "oh, woe is me" and whatever.
but tis a new day, and i can take it as it comes.

so bring it on!

((but i did save my poem on my computer, just in case i feel that way again. just in case.))

((ooh, lookie here. how did that get down there...?))

"don’t"

feelings of shame.
so deep, so body wracking.

why would i do this to myself?
stupid, stupid.
of course i let my self go too far.

it could never happen.
it will never happen for me.
never, never, never.

godamnit how i wanted it.
i saw something in nothing.
i waited for it.
longed for it.
but now is nothing but an empty shell.

wants nothing to do with me.
wants only what i have.
wants what i dont want.

not love.
closeness.

a spark in the dark of my heart--extinguished.

it sounds overdramatic,
because
it
is.

i'm just some overdramatic teenager.
a teenager that has missed out on so much--
i was so close, but never close enough,
it will never
ever
be.

unless i really hope
and wish
and tell.

but
now
i'm
too
afraid.

shameful.
i am ashamed.
for what i cant
wont
never will be able to


do.

now.

now,
as i take down these memories from the shelf,
i remember.

now,
as i pack them in boxes and bins,
i reminisce.

now,
as i take the shelves off the wall,
i grimace.

because the shelves took some paint off the wall, and my dad is going to kill me.

---------------
oh, crap.

Another Quote from "The Road"

page 168

"People were always getting ready for tomorrow. I didn't believe in that. Tomorrow wasn't getting ready for them. It didn't even know they were there"

what is it with me and jumping out of windows?

to jump from the window
and have all end.

to fly off the sill
and land to break bone.

to shatter the glass
and let cold air rush in.

to land in bushes
and be unhurt.

to roll onto wet grass
and
thank
god
that
you
failed
at
something
once
again.

Quote from "The Road"

Page 78

"The man thought he seemed some sad and solitary changeling child announcing the arrival of a traveling spectacle in shire and village who does not know that behind him the players have all been carried off by wolves."

its all theirs

he takes her for granted.
she won't stick to her decisions.
she acts like everything is okay.
he flirts with her friends.
she gives him hugs.
she sits close to him.
he says shes cute.
he hovers near her constantly.
she has let him know.
he doesn't get it.
she won't act on her thoughts.
she won't think before acting.
he doesn't consider her feelings.
he won't stop.

she won't stick to her decisions, and he takes her for granted.

((dis is an old one))

That is some
head spinning
mind reeling
tear jerking
nose running
lip smacking
neck snapping
arm flailing
body working
lung bursting
stomach pumping
thigh burning
feet tingling
action.

((i think i was thinking about 24 in pre-calc again, lol.))

New

wherever i go,
whatever i do,
the people surround me.

and whenever it is,
or whichever i see,
the one want is not here.

why is this one,
this singular person,
so important to be with?

why do i feel this,
a constant need,
to be with this person?

to maybe hold this person in my arms?
to maybe break down those physical barriers?
those barriers so carefully built?

to maybe understand our minds?
to maybe break down those mental barriers?
those barriers so meticulously placed?

((i was at the park, sitting on a hill. i'm turning into a hopeless romantic, i swear.))

story. because curtis HAD to suggest i write a zombie story. And the plotlines wouldnt leave me alone!

a moan, and a shriek, and the constant sound of dragging feet up the stairs.
i hear them through the door of the abandoned apartment. i had thought that the penthouse suite of the Hungdon Place Hotel would have more weapons in it. I mean, we had been in this war for what, ten and a half years? and this silly suite has absolutely nothing to take care of them. Not even a pistol. I search the room throuoghly, checking all drawers, under all rugs, under all tables. When i was sure all of the room was devoid of fighting impliments, i start to build a wall in front of the door, to try to keep them out. After chucking the last oriental rug onto the pile in front of the door, i scan the once polished wood floors and the creamy-white walls for something to fight them with. My eyes fall on a wooden bracket with long wooden bars on it, mounted on the wall next to an oriental wall scroll. The wall scroll has a group of large japanese symbols on it- the text underneath say "strength against all odds." These things will have to do, i tell myself with a grimace. i lift a pole from the bracket, it seems so fragile. Great. A horde of zombies versus me with a three fragile little sticks. I test the longest rod for strength, pressing it against my knee. It bends, but doesnt break. I start to swing the thing around, and the end goes flying off into the kitchen with a clang. A clang...? The end i am holding is hollow, which means... I go to the kitchen, where a four-foot samauri sword lies, shining on the ground. "strength against all odds?" How... epic. Hope returns, a tiny, already dying hummingbird in my chest.
The sound of them schlepping themselves up the stairs is a little annoying, so i go out to stand on the balcony. The once over-populated city is deserted. The gray buildings loom overhead, the sky is a beautiful green-blue colour. All of the morox scooters lined up in the parking station remind me of a past life. The life where everyone drove their morox to work, parked it, and took the elevator up to their floor for their profession. The life where i had a nice house, with a nice family, in a nice city. I had a nice job test-driving autopilot bartemoras. It was a little boring, but flying around in the air without a worry, doing the daily crossword while gliding over Yattenore at supersonic speeds, it always made me... content. I was a content person ten and a half years ago. Until the undead decided to make their appearance.
They went for the government first, infecting the people closest to wORlD lEadeR. when it got so high up so quickly, there was panicking in the streets. People blamed the olden-god, the olden-satan. Most blamed the failure of the force-field the week before around the hq of wORlL lEadeR. The optimistic said it would pass quickly, the hopeful said that it wouldnt affect them, the realists prepared themselves, and the pessimistic said everyone would most likely die- or become undead. Well, the optimists and hopefuls died off quickly. Only us realists and pessimists survived on tough luck, good weaponry, and the ability to think rationally. But life came with a price.
It was no longer a real life.

Dream. (ah, not finished)

I'm walking down a dirt road, a hill goes up on my left, and a steep decline goes down the right. Down the incline is what appears to be a slum, I'm in India, I realize. A small, crippled Indian boy in a red shirt passes me by, a blank stare on his face. He drags his legs behind him sadly, relying fully on his crutches. I look toward the slum as he goes by, the sun is quickly setting behind the beaten roofs of the slum. The slum dissapears behind trees, and I walk into the forest.
Nobody knows where I am going, including myself.
As night falls in the forest, a group of Indian people approaches from all around. I get nervous. I keep walking through the trees, and they quickly approach me as i walk into an area thats a little cleared, the ground thick with leaves. I turn back, knowing that they are coming to get me, and one shouts, "You will be unable to leave! if you leave, you will kill him!"
I sort of know what they are talking about-- they are going to try to get the other boy out of me, and as I am a nine year old boy, i will be able to survive it.
I disregard their warnings, I care more for my own life than the one of some random boy, and i start to run away. I trip and fall, feel like small needles are pricking my skin, look down, and see that small, one inch, pale, round spiny creatures have fastened themselves to my body. The Indian people, all men I see, hoist me up. I struggle a bit, free myself from their grasp, and dash through the clearing. I hit some sort of a forcefield, its bright blue light shining around me as my body impacted. I tumbled back, and the men roughly grabbed me again, dragging my dazed body toward a hole in the ground, some of the small spiny creatures fall off my hand, and i see my skin is raw red where it used to be. I'm scared.
The hole in the ground shines brightly, and as we go down the ramp into it, i see that it is a scientific- looking place. Its very white, with a high ceiling, with a floor made of marble tiles. The place is dimly lit though, and the place looks gray.