"If you were going to write a book, what would you write about?"
Well... I think... I'd write about love. And pain. Lying. Destruction and creation. Competition. Not your classic love story, but with twists and things you'd never expect. Nothing preaternatural, persay, just out of the ordinary. I love books like Wuthering Heights, and don't think there's enough of it's kind. The main character would be male, not female, and you'd see the story from the other side of the tracks. The chaser would be your entertainment, and instead of hating him for his stupidity or wanting his charms as your own, you'd see what he confusion he goes through and the mental arguments with himself. I don't think many "classic" love stories portray the pursuer as well as the pursued. They aren't always so full of themselves and are many times more hurt by decisions than the seperate party. I don't know, I just think of things a different way. I like to see it from all perspectives. Sadly, writing's not my thing so I don't think this would ever happen for me.
Just because I'm losing
Doesn't mean I'm lost
Doesn't mean I'll stop
Doesn't mean I would cross
Just because I'm hurting
Doesn't mean I'm hurt
Doesn't mean I didn't get what I deserved
No better and no worse
Blah. today's gonna be a long day. I'm confused about everything. everyone. myself. I fear there's nothing left here for me, I've got no inspiration anymore... it's all so confounding. There's so much I want, and so much I need, and I have no Idea how to get any of it without hurting others or even myself. Life's been dull these last few months and when I thought I'd found a spark to reignite the flame, it turned out to be a firefly just passing by my lonely mind. I'm thankful for everything I have, but it's just so normal now and I need... want, something new. I've still got two years til I can change anything, til I'm out on my own. 2011 can't come soon enough for me now. I want to start life, I want to live, and it's not happening here. Realism is something I don't like to hold to, it's just the grayscale of optimism and pessimism, but it seems I can't be either of those because I always want to be both at the same time. I've been trying to make the best of these things and lately it just blows up in my face. Maybe it'll get better, maybe it'll get worse. Either way, I need a change. Thanks for reading, cyberspace.
With the same sword they knight you, they gon' good night you with
Shit, that's only half if they like you
That ain't even the half what they might do
Don't believe me, ask Michael
See Martin, see Malcolm
See Biggie, see Pac, see success and its outcome
See Jesus, see Judas
See Caesar, see Brutus, see success is like suicide
Suicide, it's a suicide
If you succeed, prepare to be crucified
Media meddles, niggas sue you, you settle
Every step you take, they remind you you're ghetto
So it's tough being Bobby Brown
To be Bobby then, you have to be Bobby now
And the question is, "Is to have had and lost
Better than not having at all?"
I was walking along, minding my business
When out of an orange coloured sky
Flash. Bam. Alakazam.
Wonderful you came by...<3
Great day. Great day. Great. Fuckin'. Day.
Mark. No strep. Beat Bowser on Mario.
Nuff said.
Today
was just...
a bad day.
FIRST, I wake up at, oh let's say... eleven, I think?
To find they'd made my favourite breakfast and not woken me up.
at least they saved me some, I thought.
Twenty minutes later, I find that they HAD woken me up, I was even "Coherent"
Michelle and I held a conversation about getting up!
[why don't I remember this?]
so just let the moment of embarassment slip, it'll be fine. day will get better.
WRONG.
Joyce and her kids show up, she questions me about Mark.
Don't wanna hear it at the moment, KTHX. Trying to enjoy my game before my throat is shot too much to sing.
Later on, my brother and I go up for dinner, Labor Day BBQ, you know the drill.
I started to talk to my sister about doing some babysitting for her, talk to dad about doing some stuff for moneys, cause there are quite a few concerts I really want to go to this year. What do they say? Get a job.
Phil and Joyce both saying how they had 40 hour jobs at 17
Neither were in school, stfu.
I have 11.5 credits to do in a standard 6 credit school year.
ALSO.
I have to start Driver's Ed again soon.
AAALLLSSSOOO
Who do you think is going to be Stuck babysitting in november?
PLUS
I have Senior Project things to do.
Which means I have to work 20 hours in Spokane
and I don't get paid.
Yeah, I can TOTALLY hold a job with all that shit to do.
Why don't I just be a cell and divide, no?
fucking hell.
OH YES.
To make it better.
GUESS WHAT.
I've got FUCKING STREP throat.
AGAIN.
You never appreciate the ability to swallow until you lose it.
Which, having had it so many times, Is why I've become so accustomed to spitting.
ladylike? no.
convenient? yes.
I'ma pull an all nighter tonight
and finish my science.
maybe do some english.
doctor's tomorrow
hopefully i have a better day.
It's 11:11.
I wish I had a pony.
Okay so I have been posting these a little late each week, but I'm working on fixing that. Anywho, This song has been stuck with me for a while--I really love it. The way it sounds. The Implications, I just... yeah.
Here.
The Green Fields of France (No Man's Land)
Dropkick Murphys
Oh how do you do, young Willy McBride
Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside
And rest for a while in the warm summer sun
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done
And I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen
When you joined the great falling in 1916
Well I hope you died quick
And I hope you died clean
Or Willy McBride, was is it slow and obscene
Did they beat the drums slowly
Did they play the fife lowly
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down
Did the band play the last post and chorus
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest
And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined
And though you died back in 1916
To that loyal heart you're forever nineteen
Or are you a stranger without even a name
Forever enshrined behind some old glass pane
In an old photograph torn, tattered, and stained
And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame
Did they beat the drums slowly
Did they play the fife lowly
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down
Did the band play the last post and chorus
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest
The sun shining down on these green fields of France
The warm wind blows gently and the red poppies dance
The trenches have vanished long under the plow
No gas, no barbed wire, no guns firing now
But here in this graveyard that's still no mans land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man
And a whole generation were butchered and damned
Did they beat the drums slowly
Did they play the fife lowly
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down
Did the band play the last post and chorus
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest
And I can't help but wonder oh Willy McBride
Do all those who lie here know why they died
Did you really believe them when they told you the cause
Did you really believe that this war would end wars
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing and dying it was all done in vain
Oh Willy McBride it all happened again
And again, and again, and again, and again
Did they beat the drums slowly
Did they play the fife lowly
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down
Did the band play the last post and chorus
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest
Ahhahhaa. I love Michael Buble.
I'm posting this today because I know I'll forget tomorrow.
So this week, for me, Thursday is Friday.
Down With Love
Michael Buble and Holly Palmer
Down with love, the flowers and rice and shoes
Down with love, the root of all midnight blues
Down with things that give you that well known pain
Take that moon, wrap it in cellophane
Down with love, let's liquidate all it's friends
The moon, the june, the roses, and rainbows' ends
Down with songs that moan about night and day
Down with love, yes, take it away, away
Take it away, take it away
Give it back to the birds and the bees and the Viennese
Down with eyes, romantic and stupid
Down with size and down with cupid
Brother, let's stuff that dove, down with love
Down with things that give you that well known pain
Take that moon and wrap it in cellophane
Down with songs that moan about night and day
Down with love, take it away, away
Take it away, take it away
Give it back to the birds and the bees and the Viennese
Down with eyes, romantic and stupid
Down with size and down with cupid
Brother, let's stuff that dove (Brother, let's stuff that dove)
Brother, let's stuff that dove
Down with love (Down with love)
Down with love, down with love.
Junior year. Excited. Not.
There's so much to look forward to...
Yet, so much to look back on and think
"MAN I fucked up."
And trust me, I did.
Can't say I regret it.
It taught me a lot.
Lying. Hating. Laziness. Judgement.
Everything I disagree with, I've become.
But at least I understand how others' minds work, now.
But this year I'm going to erase from my actions all that I've learned from this society,
And be the better person I know I am.
I can't tell you how I'll do it, because I don't know myself.
But I will, and though it won't make the world a better place, I know that I'll feel better. Accomplished.
.Crazy.
ALL WEEK, since I got back from the coast, I've had Viva la Vida by Coldplay stuck in my head. I usually listen to harder music, but I've got a thing for string instruments, and it's got great lyrics. Tattoo-worthy lyrics xD
Maaan I hope people join this group... :]
Viva la Vida
Coldplay
I used to rule the world
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone
Sweep the streets I used to own
I used to roll the dice
Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes
Listen as the crowd would sing
"Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"
One minute I held the key
Next the walls were closed on me
And I discovered that my castles stand
Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand
I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror, my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can't explain
Once you go there was never
Never an honest word
And that was when I ruled the world
It was the wicked and wild wind
Blew down the doors to let me in
Shattered windows and the sound of drums
People couldn't believe what I'd become
Revolutionaries wait
For my head on a silver plate
Just a puppet on a lonely string
Oh who would ever want to be king?
I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror, my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can't explain
I know Saint Peter won't call my name
Never an honest word
But that was when I ruled the world
I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror, my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can't explain
I know Saint Peter won't call my name
Never an honest word
But that was when I ruled the world
What have you been putting off doing?
Submitted by BeautifullyBroken.
ahhhh xD good question. WELL.
I really need to clean my room.see, i start, and get going, then i find something interesting that i thought was lost in the abyss... and i sit there and play with it. i'm WAY too easily distracted. it's... bad xD
my room is a disaster. really.
if someone ever walked in, they'd be lost for eternity.
It's a jungle only experts can trek ._.
Love you. read more
on stress. Stress. STRESS.