I miss her.

It's a...different thing.
I shouldn't miss that red-haired demon who wrecked my life and stole every bit of innocence I could try to hold onto.
But I do.
She makes me want to curl up, cut, forget what food is.
Hey, angel, we're not together any more, I don't even know if you'll read this, but I need closure.
You may have it.
I don't.
You may love that.
Please, angel, just give me this.

Updating.

SOOO, I'm going to -insert name of town near where I live- high school next year instead of -insert name of high school I go to-. Why? I am sick of this bull crap. I'm sick of feeling like an outcast. I'm sick of the mental abuse.
To me, this seems like part way surrendering. Ok, I'm cool with that. I lose the battle, continue therapy, get better mentally, be happy, and win the war. This is about getting away from a small group of people who caused sooo much stress that I hurt myself. A small group of people I once called my friends.
But, someone I should've stayed friends with, but didn't told me making friends will be easy. Cest lavie, such is life. She told me you couldn't sugar-coat life and she didn't sugar-coat her responses. She talked with me about the pains that I had because of people she had only heard about. It was lovely.
So, I'm changing schools to be free. So before I stride through those doors, I'm changing my look. Well, my hair. Completely. Now, it's dark with a hint of red over it and pink bangs and streaks of blue and one or two of pink and it's down to my shoulder area except for my bangs that come down to almost my chin. When I change schools, I'm cutting the back of it real short. I'm bleaching it. Then, I'm dying it pink with blond streaks. Yep. That's my current plan.

I'm getting better...at hiding it.

For a while, I was actually trying to stop cutting. I was trying to let my body heal. Now, I care about as much as everyone else. None. Sure, Mom and Dad know I do/did, but I tell them when they ask that I haven't for a while. Honestly, it's not a big deal. The pain of the cuts make me forget bigger pains.
I'm just...so tired of how everything is. No one seems to care anymore. I feel...forgotten. Ah well, bedtime.

Wanna choke, feel like I am.

Confronted a friend about something Julia brought to my attention.
I won't lie, I was hoping that she was lying to me.
The other person didn't even suspect Julia to be the one to tell me.
Then told me how horrible Julia is when I'm not around.
Honestly, Julia, go ask that jerk back out if you only broke up because of me.
I don't give a frick anymore.
I just want someone to hurt like I did.
Forgiveness?
Love?
Hope?
What the heck are those?
Something everyone else tastes everyday, all day.
Yet when I think the story has past and I can hope again, BAM, there's another freking door smashing my face in.
Calm down, screaming and yelling fixes nothing.
Ask her what's wrong, why's she being this way.
Obviously there's built up anger.
There, asked about.
Whether she tells me or not now is her choice.
I'm gonna get off the computer.
Goodnight.

Let's turn up the radio. Let the band remind you that you're not alone.

Gosh, today has been crazy. In the past twent-four hours I have been told how great I am with voicing publicly my feelings about God. Yet there shouldn't be anything good about it. Actually, one person said I could be a preacher and the other time I was applauded after explaining how Youth Encounter was for me. Even though I totally lost my train of thought and changed what I wanted to say after beginning a sentence.
But naturally it's never always rainbows and sunshine. In Basic Drawing, something freaked me out to the point I couldn't sit still and my heart began racing. Heart racing is great...after running. I had not been running, but my heart felt like it was going faster than it ever had. Felt like the beats were feathery, like they could stop at anytime. Looking back, it was probably nonsense, but I'm glad it's over. I'm glad the whole semester is over. On to Basic Painting seventh hour and enjoying the pure contentment that sweeps into my life when I'm dealing with creating an art project. I'm just going to feel lost this summer. No art classes, haha.
Music is so dominating lately. In my life, my mind, heck it dominates the book I'm reading. May as well deal with my sanity some way. It's beautiful, hearing all the different voices that create music. That's why I don't understand people who only allow themselves to listen to one type of music. What if you actually like a different kind of music after listening to it? Why restain yourself from finding songs that may (or may not) relate to you even more than what you're listening to? I couldn't imagine listening to one type of music for more than part of a month.
Okay, time to get ready for beddie by time.
Goodnight.

Lunchies!

Okay~ my lunch is quite odd today.
Rice, pineapple, and red beans.
The rice is gonna be cooked with pineapple and the juice from the can. So, it sounds quite...yum.

Obsessive I am.

My mind picks things to obsess about and generally forgets the rest. I'm a paranoid child so the bad things about me and the ways my best friend hurts me are one of the things I obsess about. I'm sure she's said somethings that at that moment I said I would never forget because they made me happy, but then something painful comes and consumes me. To tell the truth, if I could obsess about being happy I don't think I would be even then.
Since I obsess, I've been thinking about Julia throwing out that she doesn't believe in hexes. Personally, I do...because I believe in a God big enough to deal with it if I ask, so I don't have to be scared out of my mind by it. Though, each to his own, or whatever.
It's been... wow... I don't think I've been happy, really truly honestly purely happy, all year. Considering the year is only barely two days old, it doesn't really bother me, but I mean...wow. Julia and I have been arguing nearly everytime we talk and I don't know if it's her or me. Probably me. And I would try to justify that (oh, I've been hurt and I'm a troubled teen and blah blah blah blah we've heard the excuses over and over and over) but there really isn't a point in it. I've had burst of happy, but most of the time I've just been ticked off. Maybe it's because I'm not used to being treated like a child but like a person? I'm sooooo sick of how my dad friggin treats me. Yet I keep my mouth shut. Why break the already uneasy peace? Why bother? Besides, if I said anything, it'd get worse and I'm already the worse hazard to myself.
Okay, I'm saying that 3:39 AM is late enough to stay up when I'm trying to get ready for finals and just going back to that thing called school.
Night.