I'm tired. I need sleep. Sleep depravation is bad... productive.. but bad. You can get a lot done when you don't sleep. You’d be surprised. It's like an extra day to finish work for the next. It's like freezing time while the rest of the world is asleep, doing everything you have to do, then starting it up again once its convenient for you. Then everyone wakes up again, and its morning. They’re all motivated from a good night’s rest and then CRAP! I forgot to do this, or I forgot to do that. Your only disadvantage is the fact that you most likely wont be able to stay awake through all of your classes... but that’s what the nurses office is for. Otherwise, you’re way ahead of everyone! Hehe. I really do just ramble on and on and on.... But that’s what I do best I guess. (Hey! That rhymed! .... Sorta...Okay, maybe it didn’t rhyme but we’ll just pretend it did.) Besides the whole lack-of-sleep thing, my day was fine. Yesterday was a bit weird though... I convinced myself something didn’t happen for two years. Now I have to face that it did. It can really fuck with your head. Trust me...when you convince yourself something didn’t happen in your past and it really did, then your base your decisions on what you "thought" happened, your life can really get turned upside down when the truth is once revealed. Life is such a bitch.... So I say fuck it [for now]. Well, I’m going to go now. Byeeeee.

Raggmopp (doodley-doo-doo) Raggmopp(doodley-doo-doo)
Raggmopp (doodley-doo-doo)
R-A-G-G-M-O-P-P
Raggmopp...
Whenever that song pops in my head, I think of one of those movies where a guy would grab a mop and start dancing with it pretending it is the love of his life. Then someone will walk in and see him and he'll drop the mop out of embarrassment, denying everything afterwards. Poor mop.... no one wants to be seen with her.
Mop and I have a lot in common.

Who, Me?
MeLissa- Melissa is the one who gets pushed around and ignored. She doesn't have a voice anymore... someone took it from her. She doesn't understand the world she's living in, and doesn't really know if she wants to.... poor MeLissa. Though if you want someone to talk to, she's the one. She has all the time in the world to listen.
MeL- MeL is a bad girl. She tends to break the rules a lot. She plays the pain game. She smokes cigarettes and pot, and even drinks every once and a while to get away from it all, a way to block out all of the pain. MeL's a good example of what you shouldn't be. MeL get's hurt a lot on the inside, but just pretends not to care. Her grades are low. Poor MeL. She has so much potential too.
Lissie- Aww! She's so cute and adorable! She's the perfect little girl. Her grades are so high and shes's so nice. Everyone loves Lissie, but most people know her by MeL or MeLissa, but her grampa used to call her Lissie when she was little. When she was innocent. but of course to everyone else, Lissie still is. Lissie will definitely get somewhere in life. She couldn't do anything wrong.
ME(all of the above)- The world is on my shoulders, and I'm caving in.

Birthday
Thursday was my birthday. I don't get it. Why do people make such a big deal out of the day you turn 16 years old? When you think about it, all the fun comes afterwards. For example, I got my lebret pierced. Until it heals.. it hurts to smile. I can now get my permit... but I have to take a 20 question multiple choice test first. So like I said, all of the fun comes afterwards.
I wish I were alive in the sixties. The seventies even. It would have been awesome... Oh well. just got kicked off the computer by our school librarian.. this site isn't "educational". Great.
¤Peace¤

I'm back in school. I can only find myself looking forward to seeing shawn after school. Sometimes he goes to his parents house in south otselic, which is and hour away. I miss him so much when he leaves.
My birthday party was this weekend. 16 years old. Goody-goody for me. One more year that I've lived... not a big deal. Well... maybe it is. I've changed a lot in the past year... maybe for the best. I just wonder why it's such a big deal to everyone else. Woopedy-doo, I was born 16 years from today in March 1988. Day after St.Patricks day. Sometimes I wonder if I was born a day earlier, if I would have been a luckier person. Who knows? Maybe I would have been, but all of that is just what ifs and could have beens. I try my best to ignore those from day to day, because honestly I find myself thinking about them everyday. Maybe is the only answer I can give myself. Maybe things would have been different. Maybe I would be happier... maybe I wouldnt.
Okay, enough with picking my brain apart, because that can really get a person thinking, which doesnt always lead to the most resourceful thoughts. In five more minutes I will be going to my computer arts class. I figure I'll be able to write more there. I'm really in the mood to write... well, I guess I always am. No big surprise.
Maybe it'll be a normal day... then again normal is just a setting on the dryer.

I'm very sick... I look at the clock, and wonder what the movements of it's hands will bring.... hopefully health. I have a horrible taste in my mouth, and can't even look at food let alone eat it. I hope this feeling passes soon. I an scared. I am afraid that the sickness will bring the nightmares and panic attacks in my sleep, the overwhelming fear of never waking up... or even worse. Waking up, and realizing the nightmare is reality. I try not to think about it.
Time to call home... I just hope for a peaceful sleep. Here goes nothing..

What makes Me(L) tick??
I look at the eraser marks on the chalkboard. I wonder if it would be full if everything that was ever written on it reappeared. Every lesson ever taught would be right there in front me, but I couldn't read a single one. I would have had to be there for each individual lesson. It has to get wiped clean sometimes... but as long as the lesson learned from it is remembered then youre fine.
That chalkboard is just like my heart.

I pile my bags on my desk in class. My bookbag and my purse. I put them on each edge of the desk as a fortress, so no one can get in. It's just my space... until the teacher tells me to put my bags on the floor. So I do. Then people see me, but not for who I really am.
I go into the bathroom between classes, and look in the mirror. I can't see my eyes. My hair falls across them. Maybe my hair is something to hide behind too. Eyes are the windows of the heart and soul. If no one can see them then they wont know how to get in.
If I want to know you, you'll know. If you see jade-blue-green pools peer out from behind matted gold-brown-red hair, then you know you are welcome. Most people are.
I look up at the neon crimson digital digits of the clock to see that its 10:21 AM. I'm not awake yet, so I just hide my tired widows behind a cascade of gold-red-brown hair. I ignore the knowledge being shot at me by my teacher and try to think of something to write about. I wish I could write about something beautiful, but there's really not anything beautiful around here. Even though there's nothing beautiful to write about, it doesnt mean I can't find beauty through a camera lense. I can look at happiness, grunginess, and anything that people just wouldnt notice, and appreciate its beauty through my camera. The only thing I can't find beauty in is pain. You can read my emotions by the pictures I take.
I look at the clock again, it's 10:45. I start to daydream about my boyfriend, shawn. To me he is an angel, my angel, put into human form. I can imagine him holding me with my face buried in his shirt that smells like cigarette smoke and jasmin incense. Looking up at his soul windows that look like they have brown velvet curtains hanging behind them. I can just imagine running my fingers through his curly dark hair which is probably wet from the shower he just got out of. Running my hand down his soft silky face, feeling the contout of his cheek and jawbone, hitting a bit of stubble here and there. If only I were right now... but I'm not. The bell is about to ring. I guess that means lunch.

From Autumn to Ashes
Short Stories With Tragic Endings



Here you stand seething with guilt.
Silence only justifies this act of cowardice.
The look stapled on your face cries out for forgiveness,
the one thing that I cannot give.

(Did you ever see that one person
and the way they do these things
and it hurts you so much it's like choking choking choking
down the embers)

I can give you freedom from your guilt,
with a flick of my wrist onto yours.
I can give you peace of mind with a forced smile.
I can give you death with the look upon my face.

This is your freedom in a life of fallacy,
with no last kiss and no regrets;
you don't deserve good bye.
This is your freedom in a life of fallacy,
with no last kiss and no good bye.

Here you stand seething with guilt.
Silence only justifies this act of cowardice.

With a short story, the one you add to daily, you are the tragic loss.
No story book ending for this fairy tale of you.
Just the one composed with blood taken from your pen that you hold in your
lifeless hand.
Cry for you. Shed tears. Mourn. Wish the end.
Cry for you. Shed tears. Mourn. Wish the end.


(Did you ever look, did you ever see that one person,
and the subtle way that they do these things and it hurts so much?
So much like choking down the embers of a great blaze.
It's that moment when your eyes seem to spread aspersions
and to scream confessions at the insipid sky parting clouds.
You let this one person come down in the most perfect moment.
And it breaks my heart to know the only reason you are here now is
A reminder of what I'll never have
I'll never have... I'll never...
Standing so close knowing that it kills me to breathe you in.
Standing so close knowing that it kills me to breathe you in.
But this table for one has become bearable.
I now take comfort in this, and for this, I cherish you.
Did you ever look, did you ever see that one person
and the subtle way that they do these things and it hurts so much?
So much like choking down the embers of a great blaze.
It's that moment when your eyes seem to spread aspersions
and to scream confessions at the insipid sky parting clouds.
And you let this one person come down, come down.
I cherish you...I cherish you.
Just say you would do the same for me.
Just say you would do the same for me.
Say you would do the same...
Just say you would do the same for me.
For as much as I love Autumn,
I'm giving myself to Ashes.)

Stroke 9
"Vacuum Bag"

You'll never know what happened to me
It's just one of those things
I was sitting by myself
And my thoughts started pouring out
Remember that time on our trip
You asked me where we were going
I said Barcelona
You said that's not what I meant
Maybe I'll never get it
I just don't think I'm like that
Don't like planning stuff out
It never happens that way

I'm like a vacuum bag That holds all that old dirt
Remember that time we found your mom's Valium and took it?

Don't hate me, don't regret me, don't ever forget me
Wherever you go, whatever you do, don't say I never loved you

That summer when we wore no shoes
And we danced on the Fourth of July
And we listened to your sister's records
And Frampton came alive
Even then you knew what you wanted
Even then I had no clue
I was just living in the moment
And the moment was all about you
Remember that time in LA
You asked we what we were doing
I said we're doing fine
You said here we go again

I'm like a vacuum bag
That holds all that old dirt
Remember that time we said we'd be together forever?

'Cause it matters to me
Can you hear me?
Everyday I ask the same thing

Will you ever know what happened to me?
It happens everyday
And you wonder what went on
It's there and then it's gone
Maybe I'm sentimental
And I start to reminisce
And every time I do
I still want to tell you this


Don't hate me, don't regret me, don't ever forget me
Wherever you go, whatever you do, don't say I never loved you