wheneverwhereverhoweverforever:

How when someone commits suicide, everyone is like “we never saw it coming” or “prevent bullying!”, but then you look on here, and all the things the things anon’s are saying to people, “your blog sucks” or “shut the fuck up you’re so annoying”…

THIS IS THE SHIT THAT MAKES PEOPLE COMMIT SUICIDE.

Just try and remember that next time you have the nerve to tell somebody you don’t know what you think of them.

My life has been so boring lately I don’t even know where to begin.

Things are following a slightly off-kilter norm. I’m on vacation in California, and it’s beautiful and warm and all the things I need to calm me down. Other than that, same friends, same events, same life. Nothing changes. I guess that’s how summer goes.

I’ve been writing a lot. Stories and whatnot. I feel like I’m coming around again, going back to the days when I wrote and had a creative muse. I liked being alone then, going out on walks and cherishing the characters in my mind. I do that now, too. I’ve fallen into step with my old self, who wrote and thought and spent the majority of her time tuned in to her iPod. I hope I’m not going back to that again. It’s nice to feel like I’m doing something, though. I’ve always loved stories.

When Julian and Casey broke up I feel like a part if me broke up too. Maybe that’s why I am so lost. I miss Number One and we haven’t spoken in months because he turned into an asshole sometime in December. Where are my friends? Where am I among them?

I just don’t know sometimes, because I want to leave everything and follow my dreams. But how plausible is that?

I want to fall in love. I am ready, I think. But the problem is I set my standards so high, and I know exactly what I want, and so few people around here are willing to meet my expectations.

Lately I have been feeling like a character in a musical, or a fairytale. I feel like there is something more for me. I feel like singing, like dancing, like turning my world upside down just in time for the finale. I am confused and yearning for newness. Everything is so boring here, lacking in opportunity or appreciation. I want to be bigger than this town.

I feel so lost, but not in the depression way. More like my spirit can’t find it’s place, so I am drifting around aimlessly in complacency until one day Aha! and I will click into my niche like a key in a lock.

My AP test results came today and that was fabulous, and I cried.

My oxfords and my jazz shoes also came. I did another photoshoot with Jasmine. I drove Sara home and talked with her about her boyfriend and her struggles and her angst. Then I made plans with my best friend and we were ridiculous and oh, how I love him.

So maybe things are looking up. I have been cleaning out my room; I am hoping maybe having less clutter will clear up my mind as well. Yet it is nearly three and I’m still awake.

I want to write but I can’t find the words. Instead I transcribe what I feel and what I think. Perhaps it will get me back into the swing of things.

I am in love with those oxfords. Is it wrong to love a pair of shoes? I feel as if a part of me has been opened up to fly every time I see them.

I am calming down. I am thankful for summer.

I have been so busy lately, I feel like I’m going under from all the stress. You’d think that with school being over, my life would have retained a semblence of relaxation, but it hasn’t. If anything, it’s worse.

I have been getting panic attacks lately. At first it was just overwhelming anxiety and heart palpitations, but it’s rapidly become insomnia and nail biting and episodes where I feel like a crack addict or neurotically clean things. Last week I realized that when I’m not occupying myself otherwise, I have a tendancy towards pulling my hair out. As if that were totally normal to do, like chewing gum.

I don’t understand this. I know the things that are stressing me out: my mother’s depression, my ever-aproaching seminar, senior year. Most importantly, the breakup of my two best friends and the subsequent friend split that has left me utterly reeling and stretched far too thin.

It’s like I am punishing myself. Sometimes I don’t eat or I over-pluck my eyebrows until they bleed or I exfoliate myself raw. It’s like the prissy girls’ guide to self-mutilation, or something. I need to get a handle on this stuff, but I feel as if my outlets are stifled.

I need release. Like just one week where nothing from the outside world can get to me and I can sort myself out.

It’s a weird thing, suffocating your feelings for someone because you know they won’t ever make you happy. I mean, I know exactly who I want. I can picture him and feel him as if I already knew him. And I know that the second I meet this guy, I will be otherwise assured that he is the one.

So why am I still hung up on you when you obviously aren’t him? I don’t even like you as a person. You are dating the undeniably sluttiest girl in my school, and you treat everyone like crap and blow your douchebag horn up in our faces like no one ever meant a thing to you.

And yet you still make my heart do that stupid, cliché little flutter.

I don’t even like you.

It’s been a while but I guess I just haven’t had a lot to say.

I have decided that I want a man who will whisper the poems of e.e. cummings into my ears at night before he holds me to sleep. I just want to feel the arms of someone around me, the safety it brings. And the beauty of language is never lost on a tired mind.

I have been doing a lot of thinking lately. I like pianos and I wish I could play them. Guitars, too. There is a song in my heart that I can’t find the language to write in. So I’ve been writing a lot of meaningless stories where the girl doesn’t get the guy.

(now the ears of my ears awake and now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

I sent Casey a huge rant text about how upset I was and how I was just crying in my room and I was so hurt by everything.

Fifteen minutes later he shows up at my door with my favorite DQ blizzard (topped with whipped cream) and French fries. He stayed for three and a half hours and just talked to me and listened and made everything better. We laughed and cuddled and were dorks and I forgot about the shit and remebered that I have friends. I have great things.

It was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I am still overwhelmed by the gesture. I love my friends. That made this week so much more tolerable.

Nevermind nevermind nevermind.

Just… god this month is hell. It’s absolute hell.

I burst out crying at Julian’s yesterday when his joking just tipped me over and I couldn’t hold everything in anymore so I sat in his front room and sobbed.

That has never happened to me before.

I am ALWAYS in control of my emotions. It’s never like this.

Fuck it, right now.