always.

Day by day, minute by minute: that's how we're living.

2008-11-24T23:27:04Z

"People are unreasonable, illogical and self-centered: Love them anyway. If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives: Do good anyway. If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies: Succeed anyway. The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow: Do good anyway. Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable: Be honest and frank anyway. The biggest person with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest person with the smallest mind: Think big anyway. What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight: Build anyway. People really need help but may attack if you help them: Help people anyway. Give the world the best you have and you might get kicked in the teeth. Give the world the best you've got anyway. "

The world is so narcissistic. Even my goddamn blog entries fall into the same self-righteous, pseudo attention-seeking, RIDICULOUS pattern day after day. Despite the fact that one thing I can not stand is being the center of attention. And, Jesus, why would any one want to make me the center of attention? I am a horrible person. Don’t try to contradict this fact either, as people are prone to do when one’s self-hatred is broadcasted for the world to see. I know myself better than anyone else, remember this. And I am a horrible person. A truer statement has never been said. And the sad part about this, I try all day every day to combat this revolting personality, I try so hard to be a good person. It just never pans out, I swear. I always know exactly what to say to reach a specific end. And, I don’t mean to say it, but I do. Goddamn, I do. I give so much of myself to other people. I got out of my way, deny myself what I may want, to make sure that they are perfectly satisfied. And that would be fine; but, that’s only half of it. I get uncomfortable when they start returning the favor. Why is this? Why should I shy away from someone when they are exhibiting the very characteristics that so completely define who I am?

And fuck, why am I even saying this? It shouldn’t matter to anyone else how horrible a person I am. Besides, I am trying. I really am. And besides, people only like self-loathing in the form of some brilliant, “Lost Generation”-esque, semi-autobiographical short story or novel or something. Or maybe a Bright Eyes song. Which, surprise, this is not.

Okay, okay. May I'm not exactly horrible, per say. But I definitely feel horrible right now. Why do I always get myself into these situations? I'm just going to watch Penelope a few more times, and my self-esteem will be healthy again. I'm not that hard to mend.

You young, dumb, ripe thing. You're brave and you're antsy.

2008-09-26T18:59:09Z

I woke up one morning and found I could no longer add together two and two. Something had given way, the ice had shattered. Things crowded in, the mere things themselves. One drop of water plus one drop of water will not make two drops, but one. Two oranges and two apples do not make four of some new synthesis, but remain stubbornly themselves. Oh, I don't say I had not thought of all this before, only that now I could not think of anything else. About numbers I had known everything, and understood nothing.

A recent revelation has caused me to want to make this perfectly clear: whenever I am asked if I have ever hated anyone, I invariably answer 'no.' Hatred (towards living things) is the ugliest of emotions. It is the vilest of sins. It is a feeling so disgusting that I would never allow anyone to make me feel in that manner. Especially if it is someone I may not particularly like, I would not let them get the better of me. So, no I've never hated anyone. If I don't like them, I don't think about them. Period. Not even to think negatively of them. In fact, I can not name a single person who, if they were to say hi to me in the street, I would not return the favor for.

But, of course, I am not naive enough to think that everyone feels this way. I don't think anybody hates me. At least, I don't think that I am worthy of hate. Certainly I have done some things I am not proud of, and certainly people may dislike me. But I am not worth them becoming the dark, hand-puppet of hate. So I hope they don't hate me. For their sake, not mine.

I want to go to a protest. I want to picket something. I want to be able to write a livejournal entry without it sounding incoherent and random. I’ve been reading a lot recently. I’ve been reading very intensely into the latest hours of the night, or more so, into the earliest hours of the morning. I read this book called Blink by Malcolm Gladwell, and it’s all about first impressions and “snap” judgments. There was a scientist who did this study of newlyweds. There was this one couple: 20-something, smart, and likeable, and he sat them down in his lab. He had a video camera on each of them and instructed them to talk for fifteen minutes about something minor in their marriage. They chose to talk about their dog, an object of strain between the two. The wife loved the dog, the husband wanted to get rid of. They conversed for the fifteen minutes, and to the untrained eye, they seemed the perfect couple. They joked, teased, and seemed to just be having a casual conversation instead of an argument. However, the scientist would go through and break the video down second by second. He would then label each portion with a number that was tied to a particular emotion. #7 is contempt and #14 is defense, or something like that. Well, the scientist, he concluded that the couple would probably not make it to their seventh anniversary. The woman was too rigid in her ways. The scientist can determine how healthy a marriage is and if they will get a divorce with 90% accuracy from a fifteen minute conversation. He can determine it with 95% accuracy from an hour conversation. Isn’t that scary?

And I read Crush by Richard Siken, because it was recommended to me. God, was that book intense. Really, I wonder what people thought when they saw my face while reading it. I can’t hide my emotions, and those poems were incredibly emotional.

It’s autumn. I need to do something to celebrate that fact. A painting, maybe. Or a photograph. I don’t know. I just… I feel so tied to the fall. Almost like the feeling lovers get, when they're really in love. Pablo Neruda wrote an ode to fall, aptly titled “Ode to Fall.” And in it he said, “It’s tough work, pulling leaves off every tree, in every country. Spring attached them on so quickly, and now we have to let them fall like yellow birds.”

Dance for me just one more time before you hibernate and you come out a crab cake.

2008-09-11T22:46:11Z

             "The Departed" has 237 F-words and its derivatives, 6 obscene hand gestures, 16 sexual references, 23 scatological terms, 32 anatomical terms, 5 mild obscenities, 3 derogatory terms for Italians, 3 derogatory terms for African-Americans, 1 derogatory term for Irish people, 1 derogatory term for Chinese people, 3 derogatory terms for homosexuals, 4 religious profanities, 10 religious exclamations.

             What is the point of life? We are not meant to merely let life happen to us. We are to be active; we are to make choices and decisions that may or may not lead us down the right path. But still, we must make them. Human beings were given certain traits (thought, body, ability) because these are the traits that were deemed a necessity for our lives. In the grand scheme of things we all are important. They say we are just specks, insignificant blips on the timeline of the universe.
             But we’re fucking more than that. There is a reason you weren’t born as a shrimp, an amoeba or a tree. The amount of life on this planet that is not of the human variety is astounding. At our birth, the odds were greatly in favor of our spirit living in a beetle rather than in the body of a human.
             And even then, it is a wonder we are born at all. Why then can people be satisfied by lazing about all day and doing nothing that is worth anything? There was this man on the Discovery Channel who was 750 lbs. He laid in a hospital room and just ate. He was there for a few years and, unless he changes his attitude, he will be in there for life. That didn’t bother him. He was young, very young and he was content to just live in a white walled room with only a bowl of pasta as company! How can people throw away such potential? How can their life goal be to die unfulfilled and alone?
             Every person has a purpose, I know it’s true. They are alive for some reason. And they will either die when they have completed their purpose, or the universe has given up to them.

lyssawetrust @ 2008-09-07T08:25:00

2008-09-07T12:25:43Z

I write one more Letter I won't send. Except for across the floor.

2008-09-03T21:10:18Z

If it doesn’t flow from your fingers, then you aren’t ready to write it. Unless it comes unasked out of your heart and your mouth and your gut, don’t do it. If it doesn’t come bursting out of you, in spite of everything, don’t do it. Right? But it hasn’t come bursting. It pokes me and nudges me and teases me. It allows me to write a breath-taking beginning. To shape a story into perfection. Then it leaves me. Sometimes after a paragraph, sometimes after 5 pages. It just leaves. At times, all I need is that final sentence. That last word. But it’s gone. And I can’t force it.

Do you know what I find to be one of the most depressing songs I’ve ever heard? “Piano Man” by Billy Joel. If only for the verse: “Now John at the bar is a friend of mine. He gets me my drinks for free. And he's quick with a joke and he'll light up your smoke. But there's some place that he'd rather be. He says, ‘Bill, I believe this is killing me.’ As the smile ran away from his face. ‘Well I'm sure that I could be a movie star. If I could get out of this place’” That breaks my heart every time I hear it. My worst fear is to be trapped. To be confined to a static, passionless life. It’s the main reason I'm scared to get married. It’s the main reason I'm scared to have kids. At any given time, I have to have the ability to run. John the bartender is trapped. He can’t get out.

I was filling out surveys earlier today, just to pass the time. And one of the questions was, “If you could live to be 120 years old, would you?” And my answer is absolutely not. I don’t want to grow old. I don’t want my mind and body to go. I don’t want to have to rely on other people to do everyday activities. Can you imagine the point in your life when you don’t even have the strength to turn the page of a book? When you have to ring a bell and schedule a time for the nurse to take you outside, just so you can see the sun?

I can and I hate it. I want to die young. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to die anytime soon. But I just can not grow old. I thrive on youth and vitality. I thrive on passion and romance. I can not grow old. And I am reminded of Tuck Everlasting. I’d love to stay 17 forever. But think of the consequences. I do not mean watching the people you love die. I mean, anything you do that is truly great must be done in complete anonymity. If you become famous, then you’ll become recognizable. Then 50 years from now, people will see how you haven’t aged. I suppose you could invest in makeup and wigs to make you appear like you’re aging. Then fake your death and lay low until people forget about you. But that is entirely too much commitment for my tastes.

I would like to do something completely mind blowing then just disappear into seclusion. Not give any hint as to where I went.

I ran into an ex-boyfriend yesterday and I realized how pointless some things can be. How we think things are so important, that they are so life-changing, but they really are meaningless. We dictate what is important in our own lives, don’t we? We choose what to give worth. And I’ve been betting on the wrong things.

Today was peaceful though. I came home and took some pictures, the lighting outside seemed just right. Then I did my math and history homework. Everything was so tranquil.

Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind. Because your lover threw wild hands toward the sky.

2008-09-02T20:55:56Z

I've been listening to Bright Eyes a lot lately. I haven't really listened to them in such a long time.
And Jeff Buckley, who had the best voice I have ever heard.
Seriously, if you want your mind blown, listen to Corpus Christi Carol.
The internet just bores me now.

Sometimes you tell me things that I don't want to know, I just want to hold you.

2008-08-29T19:47:11Z

Dear Somebody,
    I now know what it means when people say they’re heart is bursting. It’s this pressure in your chest. Physical pressure. You can feel it through out your whole body, every time you move your arm it is as if it is a direct string to the marionette of your heart. You grasp your chest, your heart, as if you’re trying to contain that pressure. And with every passing second, the regret sinks in deeper and deeper, and the feeling is stronger and stronger.
    It is as if, at any given second, your heart can just explode.
    And there is this pull. A yearning to be close, be near. To touch, but not to touch. That’s not what’s important. It’s the nearness. Your heart is pulling you closer and closer, trying to escape from your chest. Trying to be near.
    And at any given second your heart can explode, it can burst. Every thought is pounding into your brain, every ‘what could have been’ takes its toll. And you feel as if your heart is bursting.
    I know what that means now. When I saw you, I felt it. I felt every emotion I had tried so hard to suppress. Every emotion I thought I no longer had. All of these feelings came rushing back, and they targeted my heart. They targeted the thing most easily accessible. The place where they had resided before.
    They came and said, “Lyssa, you can not resist for long. We are here and we will always be.” And with absolute certainty, it seems, I became resigned to the fact that those feelings will always be there, in my bursting heart.
    It can be sixty years from now, I can have forgotten every other memory I once had. But I will still see your face, the way it looks now. The first person I wanted so desperately to call my own, but never had the chance.
    I thought these feelings were gone.
    I thought I wouldn’t think of you again.
    I remembered every word I ever said to you. Granted, there weren’t many. But there were enough. I remember every joke every time we smiled every time we grew so frustrated with our mutual insecurities that we couldn’t look each other in the eye.
    I remembered all of that now. And will remember your face for as long as my mind will allow me.
    Will you remember me? I can ask that, but the answer doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if you think of another girl sixty years from now, when your mind is starting to slip. I’ll think of you. My love is pure, it is real, and it is directed towards you. As much as it hurts, as much as it causes my heart to feel as if it is bursting, that love exists even if it is not requited.
    So, my love, my first, my regret, my joy, my pain, my hope, my face I will never forget, when I saw you I thought my heart would burst. It feels that way still. Perhaps it will feel that way always.

                                                                                                                                                                                      And really, thank you for that.

            Can I explain how much I love the movie Penelope? Oh my, do I love that movie. Of course, it’s highly and quite obviously didactic. But sometimes you need that slap in that face. Aesthetically, it was beautiful. The colors were magnificent; the focus and angles were fantastic. Everything was superb, really. “I like myself the way I am!” I like myself the way I am. I’ve always had such problems with confidence and self-image. Something I am only now beginning to get over. And movies like Penelope, movies like Bridget Jones’ Diary, they’ve helped with that.
          One of my teachers today kept going on and on about how movies and television rot your brain. He said that the reason we knew so little about the crusades was because we’ve been brainwashed by American Idol. But that’s not true. Television is not all bad, and I don’t particularly like when people say it is. I mean, you just have to be selective in what you watch. And you would be surprised by what I mean by selective.
          There was a South Park episode that was based entirely on “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson. There have been Franz Kafka/Metamorphosis allusions in the Simpsons, Family Guy and Smallville. They referenced Death of a Salesman in Seinfeld. Honestly, what many people consider “trash” has rather intellectual origins. So just because we turn on the TV occasionally doesn't mean we're lacking braincells.

I was surprised to realize how accurate my top listened to songs on Itunes are.

1. Ain't No Reason by Brett Dennen
2. Loose Leaves by Bright Eyes
3. Album of the Year by The Good Life
4. Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop by Landon Pigg
5. We'll Always Have Paris by Commander Venus
6. Motorcycle Drive By by Third Eye Blind
7. Thirteen by Ben Kweller
8. Hand In My Pocket by Alanis Morissette
9. June, Summer, Rose by Umbrellas
10. A Distorted Reality is Now A Necessity to be Free by Elliott Smith
11. Start Wearing Purple by Gogol Bordello
12. Life As Expected by Commander Venus
13. Drive by Incubus
14. All I Have by The Rocket Summer
15. Jean's T.V. by Commander Venus

It always seemed that my top listened to is overrun by one group. It used to be the Beatles, really. And while I usually still cite them as my favorite band, I haven’t felt that need to listen to them nonstop like I used to. In fact, they’re not on that last at all, are they? #16 would be a Beatles song. It’d be “A Day In The Life.” It’s strange that that is the highest ranked Beatles song. Also the only band that repeats is Commander Venus. I've really been listening to them nonstop.

Bright Eyes is only on there once. Single File and the Decemberists aren’t on there at all. But still, those are my favorite songs right now. The ones I listen to the most. How strange.

My back hurts from shivering so much. Or trying to control my shivering. I love the cold. I really do. I’m not sure if I can explain how happy I am that summer is ending. It’s as if this veil of sticky weather and sour tempers has been removed. But still, I’ve been pretty damned depressed. I love when my emotions conflict: so joyful yet so lost.

Today was the first “official” day for classes. I like my photography class. Though, I can not STAND when art teachers make us work in groups. Actually, that’s a lie, because I’ve never had an art teacher who’s done that. I can not express myself fully if I have to work with someone else who is trying to express themselves fully, but hopefully that won't happen. My math class is fine, which is something I was worried about because I really don't do well in math.

Stephen Crane is probably my favorite poet right now:

“Behold, the grave of a wicked man,
And near it, a stern spirit.

There came a drooping maid with violets,
But the spirit grasped her arm.
’No flowers for him,’ he said.
The maid wept:
’Ah, I loved him.’
But the spirit, grim and frowning:
’No flowers for him.’

Now, this is it --
If the spirit was just,
Why did the maid weep? “

I’ve used that last one in comparison to many things. Mainly ideas that related to the book Heart of Darkness.

Speaking of Heart of Darkness, I haven’t painted in so long. I haven’t painted since the beginning of the summer. I need to paint. I have not found anything that relaxes me as much as painting does. I mean, people always say that they listen to music or read when they’re stressed. But I don’t understand that. Music and reading are such active practices. For me, there is no such thing as background music. If I have a song playing then I’m listening to it. I’m listening to every word. Reading is even worse. Reading helps me forget about my stresses, sure. But I take on all of the emotions of the characters. So after I’m finished reading, I remember what I was worried about plus I have all the worries of the words I just read.

But painting you can just let yourself go. You can forget everything and just paint. Leave it all on the canvas. I love that. I have no reason to be stressed, though. Nothing is wrong. I'm just confused about everything and everyone.

I really am alone.

lyssawetrust @ 2008-08-24T19:28:00

2008-08-24T23:31:37Z

You never came. I sat under the maple tree, you know which one. It's Autumn now, you know, i told you once that October was the time for lovers. You laughed -

"What of the cozy nights during winter?
The steamy twilight of summer?
The flowering walks of spring?"

You never did understand. You lived for the contrasts of life. And as i sit here, the leaves - their fire - all around me. The grayest of gray skies above, i can not think of anything more different. And yet, nothing is more beautiful than an early Autumn's day. You would love this.

You never came. Remember that story you told me? You said you were walking down the street and you guessed you had that look on your face. The kind we had searched for when we sat on the bench and decided if the passerbys were in love or not. You said you probably had it. And you could tell that others saw it. You said you kind of ducked your head when people smiled at you, the way that lovers do. And you saw the flower in the road, it flew from one of the florist stands that lined the sidewalk, and you ran out to get it. It was missing a petal, but it didn't matter. You taped it to a piece of paper and drew in the missing part.

"What's whole is not real," you'd say.

What's perfect does not matter. There's a couple coming up now. I would say they were in love, it's in their eyes, the way they hold each other's hands. I would say they were in love and sometimes, you would too. If it was Spring, then everyone was in love. If it was Summer, you'd usually rule it off as lust. But Fall, no one was in love during Fall. I sat at your side, my knee brushing yours, the red leaves around us, and you'd say no one's in love during the Fall.

Well, you never came. I watch the sun move steadily over and down with the last vague hope that you're just delaying for a more dramatic entrance. Maybe you were waiting until fire met fire, the sun set behind the fallen leaves, and i'd turn and you'd have a flower in your hand. I'd turn and you'd say -

"Sunset's the world's most flattering light. Anything caught outside just lights up. Nothing looks ugly during sunset, even this godforsaken season. I had to see the world at its most beautiful, after being gone for so long."

And then you'd smile. And i'd know the last couple months have been a mistake: that i haven't really been alone and those days of crying under this tree were all for nothing. You would smile, whisper you were wrong about the Fall, just as the doctor's were mistaken.

But you never came.

Hitchin' on a twilight train, ain't nothing here that I care to take along.

2008-08-18T00:42:16Z

Set the scene: A boy and a girl are standing and talking about absolutely nothing. The boy tells the girl, “Oh by the way, thank you. “ The girl asks, “For what?” The boy says, “Your impenetrable fortress won me 30 bucks.” The girl looks at the boy confused. “What do you mean?” she asks. The boy then changes the subject. Perhaps he realizes that he hadn’t gotten the reaction he wanted. Perhaps he merely chickens out.

The girl is not fooled. “What do you mean?” She repeats. The boy caves. “Me and a friend were talking about girls and who we thought was cute. He brought you up.” He reads the girl’s face carefully before he continues, “I said, ‘Yeah she’s cute, but she’s a brick wall, man. You don’t have a chance.’ Then he said he could probably get you in bed before the end of the week. I said he could have until the end of the year, it won’t happen.” The girl looks bewildered. “He made a bet. I thought it was a joke. He took it seriously.” The girl continues to look bewildered. “He’s talked to you several times, trying to loosen you up. But he gave up, and he gave me the money.” The boy looks at the girl for a reaction. He can tell she is livid. “I thought it was joke,” he repeated. The girl walks away.

Curtain falls:: Why do people do things like that? I don’t think I quite understand. Why does a guy who is a complete stranger to me think that I will jump in bed with him at the drop of a hat? I don’t fucking get it. It’s like a scene from some sort of bad teenage movie. Prom night, hotel room, how many times has that happened? What’s one more time? I’m only worth $30 to you? Well, you’re worth nothing to me.

The other night I watched this movie called “In the Land of Women.” And I really liked it. When first released, the film got mixed reviews. Critics said the characters were underdeveloped. They had no depth. That’s why I could never be a critic. Movies like that require some imagination. They provide you with the outline of a person, they provide you with the details, and you fill in the rest. It’s like a boy that I once loved. I did not know him, but I know how I imagined him. I had every detail of every character’s life mapped out in my head by the end of the movie. And it moved me.

And at today, I was out and a rush of people came into one place. It was a bus or two of people dressed in "Proud to be Georgian" gear. The girl who was ringing cash came to me and said, "Is there a holiday that i didn't know about?" Another person said, "You know, Georgia is a country."

No one knew what was going on in the world.
I told them about what was happening between Georgia and Russia.

If we have any sort of problem, we make the world listen.
Georgia and Russia have a problem, America is to too busy worrying about Michael Phelps to pay attention.

No wonder we have such a bad rep.

lyssawetrust @ 2008-08-15T12:59:00

2008-08-15T17:46:22Z

Summer dies. It's weird to think that Summer's almost over already. I'm sorry for the lack of updates, I just really haven't had any inspiration. Anyway, I've really liked to make a truths list and compare it to a one I did a few months ago. So. Here it goes.

1. My name is Alyssa.
2. I prefer to be called Lyssa. Or Lyss.
3. I've changed so much within the past year.
4. I've come to accept who I am.
5. And to actually like it.
6. I believe people are inherently good.
7. I'm getting my hairstyling lisence right when I graduate highschool.
8. I'm joining the Peace Corps after that.
9. And then I'm opening up my own hair salon.
10. My hair has been every color of the rainbow, and thensome.
11. I used to be really into piercings.
12. And makeup.
13. And hair dye.
14. Now, I can really care less about external beauty.
15. Reading is one of my favorite things to do.
16. As is painting and photography.
17. I have a really wide vocabulary.
18. I love flea markets.
19. And thrift stores.
20. My parents tell me I should've grown up in the 60's.
21. Conor Oberst is a musical genious.
22. I want to be 18.
23. And stay 18.
24. I can honestly say I don't hate anything.
25. Or anyone.
26. I don't think I even have the capability of hating something.
27. I love indie music.
28. I'm usually always smiling or always laughing.
29. I really like making people laugh.
30. I hate drugs.
31. I'm naturally high on life.
32. Israel is my favorite place on Earth.
33. And I can't wait to go back.
34. Ignorance and arrogance are the worst qualities in a person.
35. To me, everyone is beautiful.
36. I want to be the change in someone's life to make them a better person.
37. I want to fall madly in love.
38. I love lilies.
39. And sunflowers.
40. Actually, pretty much anything about nature.
41. Sunsets on the beach are my favorite.
42. Especially when they're blue and pink.
43. Where I am now is nowhere that I thought I would be when I was younger.
44. Freshmen year was the best year I can remember.
45. But I was different then.
46. Much different than I am now.
47. I love thunderstorms, though sometimes I get scared of lightning.
48. I love over-sized hoodies.
49. Laughter is the best medicine.
50. I can't wait for it to be Autumn.
51. There's something about the leaves changing and the cool breeze that I love.
52. Andy Warhol is my favorite artist.
53. Despite people my age, I actually love Shakespeare.
54. I like reading poetry.
55. Though I'm really not good at writing it.
56. I like sitting at home and watching movies with my sister.
57. I want to learn how to play acoustic guitar.
58. I love making hemp bracelets.
59. My favorite colors are lime green and turquoise.
60. I adore the ocean.
61. I'm very much into earth and space.
62. I usually never wear shoes.
63. I love being outside late at night.
64. I accidentally speak Hebrew during conversations.
65. I love Disney movies.
66. The Little Mermaid is my favorite.
67. I love old jewlery.
68. October is my favorite month.
69. I can't wait to get my lisence in November.
70. People who don't ever smile bug me.
71. I always paint my nails some funky color.
72. I'm really pale.
73. And I love it.
74. I'm excited for school to start.
75. I act more mature than my age.
76. I'm not a stick in the mud, though.
77. At all.
78. My hair gets complimented on a lot.
79. But I really want my hair to grow.
80. I want to meet new people.
81. I'm not materialistic.
82. I strongly dislike people who lie.
83. I can listen to Easy/Lucky/Free by Bright Eyes for hours on end.
84. I'm really close to my family.
85. Attention seekers bug me.
86. I don't like being the center of attention.
87. I rarely ever get nervous.
88. Unless it's around him.
89. I really want to go to London.
90. And Berkeley, California.
91. I don't like violence.
92. Scrubs is my favorite show.
93. I love 80's movies.
94. I believe in second chances.
95. And happy endings.
96. I love driving around at night.
97. I think it's possible to stay happy forever.

I will come on the breath of the wind.

2008-08-09T12:38:50Z

Dear Man from Last Night's Dream,

What was so special about last night? I went to bed the normal way, while thinking about the normal things. There was no brush with any handsome strangers during the day. I did not watch any romantic movies or read any heartbreaking novels. There was no poetry or paintings. No love songs. Nothing that would bring you about. Other days it would be understandable. Other days when I was focusing on the future or the state of my life. Other days when I had watched Gone with the Wind or read Sonnet 116. Other days, it would have been understandable.

But not last night. Why last night? Why would you think it proper to infest my dreams the way you did? Why would you think it okay to come in with your dark hair and pale skin, with your quiet voice and painful expression, and disturb my restful night? You made me fall in love, do you realize that? You made me fall in love with a person who doesn’t exist. A mere figment of an overactive imagination.

When I close my eyes, I see your face. I feel your touch. I smell your scent. I remember everything about you. What right does a dream have to be so realistic? All day, it’s all I think about. Through every activity I’ve taken part in, it’s clouded my thoughts. No way can I focus, with you on my mind.

But that is by far not the worst part of this all. It is one thing to fall for a dream, it is another to be rejected by one. And that’s what happened, isn’t it? In my dream, you were there, I was there, and so was a house full of others. In my dream, I told you I loved you. I practically threw myself at you and told you “I’m yours.” And you laughed. I was too “innocent” for you. Too “inexperienced.” Too “young.” You went off with some charming, devastatingly beautiful woman.

And I was left alone and heartbroken.

Then at the end, there was some sort of danger and I had no desire to try and save myself. And you seemed genuinely scared that I was going to get hurt. You were sick with worry, I could tell. And you looked at me and opened your mouth to tell me something.

And my alarm clock went off.

So I am here. Left with this vision of my perfect man, my perfect love, and the possibility that in my dream I would’ve had him. But I woke up too soon.

I would ask you to come again. Come infest my dreams for the rest of my life. But it’s just not healthy. Dreamers never live, only dream of it. Isn’t that right? Now I just want you to fade into memory and let me forget about all of this.

So please stay away.

We have a problem with no solution but to love and to be loved.

2008-08-06T13:09:44Z

                           But I don't want comfort.
           I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness.
                                                                                                  I want sin.

Don’t worry at all if you find this too long or boring to read. In fact, this really should just be tucked away in my written journal and not placed here. But I need to sort some things out. My mind is so crowded right now with thoughts, figures, and dreams that I fear I can’t possibly fit anything in until I get some of it out.

I realized that I sometimes forget to breathe when I’m reading. I turn page after page until it hits me that I haven’t inhaled because I’ve been too wrapped up in the story. Then I’ll gasp as if suddenly my lungs can’t stand any more of the pressure I’ve been placing on them. I’ll take several deep breaths and return to my book. And the process starts over. And this reminded me that I’ve never been very good at being human. At least, not very good at some aspects of being human. I forget to breathe occasionally, as if it hasn’t been something I’ve done constantly for the last 16 years. And even when I’m not reading a book, it happens. And when I become aware of it, the breathing comes erratically and not deep and soothing like it should be. I barely blink. It’s as if I can’t stand to not see for even that brief a moment. My eyes dry out and itch and seem to plead with me to give them a break. And as if to over compensate, I start blinking too much. I can’t see.

Really, I’m no good at being human. I don’t eat as much as I should. Again, it’s just something I forget to do. It’ll be 5 pm and I’ll just realize that I haven’t had a single thing to eat. And half of the time, I don’t have any sort of appetite anyway. Especially lately, I haven’t eaten much of anything. And sleeping. Sleeping has never been a strong skill of mine. It’s as if I can’t sleep. Especially for long periods of time. I fell asleep at 5 this morning, woke up at 8. Yesterday I fell asleep at 6am and woke up at 6:45am. It’s always like that, sometimes I convince my body to lay back down. But it never lasts long. I usually wake up every half an hour, especially in my attempts to get 8 hours of sleep. Again I attribute this to my fear of not seeing. I don’t want to miss anything. The tragedy in this comes from the fact that I dream, dream, dream. I dream every time I fall asleep and I remember everything. I have intricate, complicated, completely realistic dreams. And I know if my body allowed me to sleep properly, that’s all I would do. I would sleep and dream and live in some sort of imaginary world.

But, as if to atone for this complete lack of bodily competence, whatever high power there is graced me with, what I’ve concluded, is my one true skill. It was today that I realized that I’ve known what I’m good at all along, subconsciously. It may seem a subtle skill to others. And, in fact, ‘skill’ may not be the best word, ‘aptitude’ or ‘capacity’ would be more appropriate. It may seem subtle, but in fact, its value stems from the fact that it is the complete opposite of subtle.

No, my skill is that I can feel with complete certainty. Every emotion, I feel it to its up-most degree. When I’m sad, it’s as if the world is soon to end. When I’m happy, it seems as if I’ve hit the lottery. When I’m angry, nothing can stand before me. I feel everything so intensely that it gets a bit overwhelming. And it’s not limited to my emotions either. It’s everybody. I am more empathetic than a person should be. I’m horrible at comforting people because soon after I will have to be comforted myself. I can not be around charged emotions without feeling that emotion myself. It’s as if my extreme empathic nature causes me to feel everything vicariously through others. Characters, even. When watching movies, I have to turn the channel if I think an embarrassing part is coming up. I do not look away during horror or gory movies. But there is something in me that snaps when I see someone else in pain.

And this twisted sense of compassion has given me the ability to forgive. I have not yet found a crime for which I could not forgive somebody. Even the darkest of dark crimes, I can not shake the fact that I believe so strongly in the adage “people are inherently good.” It’s just some do not have an avenue to reach that goodness. Had they been brought up in a different region or in a different time. If they had had different forces influencing them then perhaps they would have acted in a different manner. In my life I feel as if I am the driving force between all decisions I may or may not make. But that may be a direct result from my reasonably comfortable living situation. Some people do not have faith enough in their emotions and dreams to truly do what they feel right. Some people do not have the ability to go against the grain and all of the things that they are being taught as ‘right.’ So they act the way they have been instructed to act. They react in the only way they know how.

I do not hold a grudge against any single person in my life. And I sincerely hope they know that. I have long since forgotten any animosity or malicious thoughts I had allowed to fester in my mind. I am in a place right now that any supposed “wrong” done against me reveals its self to be nothing more than a trial or pointless teenage-drama induced quarrel. Nothing more. I am completely free of hatred.

This aspect leads directly to the largest part of my suspected “skill”: my intense and passionate ability to love. I can love in a manner that causes every cell in my body to yearn and plead for the object of my affections. I can love for years without any sign of encouragement. I can be beyond all hope and optimism and still I will love. In fact, the strongest belief I have, the one that seems more certain to me than any sort of scientific or spiritual “certainty,” is my complete and utter faith in the idea of “soul mates.” I believe in this the way that most people believe in oxygen or the earth being round. I truly, completely, honestly believe that there is one person for which another is destined. Of course I am not so foolish to believe that every single person out there finds their soul mate. I do, however, believe that some do. I do so desperately hope that I find mine.

I realized that I have a warped view of who is beautiful and who is not. In fact, that doesn’t even describe it, as my warped view includes the fact that I find everybody beautiful. Physically, that is. I find every single person physically beautiful. Which is in contrast to previous wishes I have harbored, the gist of which is a perfect face and body. But why does perfection matter when everyone is beautiful anyway? That’s not to say I find everybody attractive, however. I am not attracted to every person I meet. But I do think aesthetically, they are all pleasing.

                And I’ve been wondering who else thinks this way. Who else out there completely trusts, forgives, loves and is pleased by everybody? I hope there are a lot of people. I’d hate to be alone in my possible naivete.

                I realized that I want to explore religion. The other day I was talking to my mom about praying and she said “I didn’t know you didn’t believe in God.” And I told her she was wrong. I did believe in a God. I just don’t know what God it is. And at this point in my life, I do not feel comfortable enough in my knowledge to decide which religion I most closely follow. The best way to do find this out, of course, is by educating myself. I’ve been studying Buddhism and Paganism for a while now. And of course I know much about Judaism, considering I went to a Jewish school for 9 years.
                Despite all this, however, I suspect I already know the answer. Religion is based on belief and faith, isn’t it? And I certainly feel a higher presence. I just have such eccentric views on that presence, that I am uncertain as to if they will fit into one specific religion. And I think that is the answer: man is not supposed to limit himself to one path, but he is to find the right combination of routes that lead to the ultimate destination. Enlightenment.
                I may possibly not fit into a religion. But I am not an atheist, despite what many people think.

                I realized that I sometimes forget to breathe because life is too beautiful to focus on just one thing.

lyssawetrust @ 2008-08-05T10:40:00

2008-08-05T14:43:45Z

if i could dream, it would be about you.

2008-08-02T17:08:32Z

i quite love stephanie meyer. really. the vampire ball was fun last night. although, it was filled with a bunch of thirteen-year-olds. one group of girls really ticked me off. they were wearing my chemical romance outfits with zombie face paint. i mean sure, it's okay if you want to go to a concert like that. but it was a vampire ball. and i must say, there are no zombies in the twilight series. unless angela or jessica turn out to be something super-natural, which i would find extremely ironic.

i didn't sleep last night. after chris dropped brianna and i off, we read the first two chapters together. then she went to sleep, and i continued reading. it's just something about that series that draws me in. and if you read twilight, i assume you know exactly how i feel. i'm 150 pages in. 600 more. i'm determined to finish it by tomorrow.

"you're impossible," he said, and he laughed once -- a hard laugh, frustrated. "how can i put this so that you'll believe me? you're not asleep, and you're not dead. i'm here, and i love you. i have always loved you, and i will always love you. i was thinking of you, seeing your face in my mind, every second that i was away. when i told you that i didn't want you, it was the very blackest kind of blasphemy."

oh, edward.

lyssawetrust @ 2008-07-29T18:59:00

2008-07-29T23:13:12Z

I am 16 years old. I like writing essays, speeches, short stories and the occasional bad poem. I like to read. I like to paint, draw, sculpt, take pictures and sew. I am into philosophy, psychology and politics. I like peace activism. I like nature and cities. I like oldies, classic rock, indie, pop-rock and classical music. I collect National Geographics, artwork and old albums. I like to travel and I like exotic food. I’m into british humor and indie movies. I am sarcastic and can be witty. I stand up for what I believe in and don’t care what others think. I get good grades. I don’t get jealous, I’m not lazy, I’m not materialistic, I’m not vengeful, I don’t overindulge. I like to talk and debate. I’ll listen to what you say and offer advice. I like snowboarding, field hockey, lacrosse, running, and football. I play video games.

i guess I thought with a lot of interests some one would find something they like in me. And cling to it. But no, I’ve been proven wrong over and over again. i refuse to think that everybody is superficial and don't like me because i'm not pretty.

we must sing, we must sing, we must sing.

2008-07-28T18:41:27Z

i have nothing much to say right now except for the fact that last night i had an epiphany and it was something i just needed to do. so earlier today, i went to michael's art supply and bought $40 worth of paint and canvases and paintbrushes. before today, i didn't pick up a paintbrush in about three years. it's nothing special, but i kind of am proud of it. it's simple. but i like it.

                                  honey, don't you weep for them.
                          there is nothing as easy, as lucky, or free.

lyssawetrust @ 2008-07-27T18:56:00

2008-07-27T23:14:20Z

one more attempt at failed sleep. i am fighting this broken life. empty ties of you and me all means nothing until i know. long chain of cigarettes. i need your voice to fill the night. i kiss the empty with memories. the naked sky timeless holds me alone.

i'll wait.

i've been thinking lately. and all i want to try is jumping out of a moving car. i always get the urge. just to see what happens. i swear i'm going crazy.

well anyway, i have no witty little quote to put. no short thought or dream i had. i've been completely out of ideas regarding everything and everybody. i've just been saying the same things over and over again. and i've learned to deny myself what i want for the sake of others' happiness. and yes, that means i've denied you because i know you'd be happier with out me by your side. but besides that, a month or so until school starts. i'm procrastinating in regards to my summer reading, as usual. i'll get it done though. i always do. i've been listening to motorcycle drive by on repeat again. i have two versions on my computer. the real version, with the right lyrics, i don't like that one as much. then i have a live version, which has slightly different lyrics. instead of saying "still i'm the one that's stupid" he sings "here's looking at you, kid." that's the version i've been listening to repeatedly. i like it better. it flows better. and that line just works so well with the rest of the lyrics. i mean, in casablanca, where the line comes from, rick knew he and ilsa could never be together. he let her go despite the fact that he was in love with her. it has so much more meaning than "still i'm the one that's stupid."

i want to draw or create something. not write, i haven't been able to do that recently. or, ever i guess. but its been particularly bad recently. so i think i'll paint a picture. that sounds good.

oh. and i've taken a particular liking to the song 'easy lucky free' by bright eyes. just as i've been listening to them pretty non-stop lately. but what else is new?

all i need right now is autumn. i can't handle summer anymore.

reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.

2008-07-24T13:29:48Z

"ENFPs are warm, enthusiastic people, typically very bright and full of potential. They live in the world of possibillities, and can become very passionate and excited about things. Their enthusiasm lends them the abilitiy to inspire and motivate others, more so than we see in other types. They can talk their way in or out of anything. They love life, seeing it as a special gift, and strive to make the most out of it."

"ENFPs are energetic and enthuisiastic leaders who are likely to take charge when a new endeavor needs a visionary spokesperson. ENFPs are values-oriented people who becomg champions of causes and services relating to human needs and dreams. Their leadership style is one of soliciting and recognizing others' contributions and of evaluating the personal needs of their followers. ENFPs are ofther charismatic leaders who are able to help people see the possibilties beyond themselves and their current realities."

dear World,

i will graduate high school. i will join the Peace Corps. i will become a what I want to be. i will live in Washington D.C., i will live in New York City, i will live in London, i will live in Oxford, i will live in Edinburgh. World, i will travel you. I will visit every continent. i will speak more than 1.003 languages. i will work in a bookstore. i will sell a painting. i will save you, World. i will make a difference. i will change you. i will show whatever it was that created you that they didn't make a mistake. not every human is undeserving of the intelligence that they are blessed with. not every human ignores the abilities they have and the duties they should perform. i will save a rainforest. i will teach a person how to read. i will lead a protest. i will inspire something to be more than the life they lead. World, i tried to live for today. i tried to live for the now. but i can't ignore my hope for the future. i can't ignore my dreams. i will strive to make you better. i will live up to "the youth is the future." i will make that a positive phrase. I have a plan, World. something i've never had before. i know what i want to do. and i will do it.

sincerely,
me

"after all this time?" "always."

2008-07-23T02:51:26Z

truth: when someone says they enjoy spending time alone, it is quite possible that the person does indeed love to spend time alone. a need for solitude does not always reflect a deficiency in social skills.
truth: when someone seems like they are having a bad day saying something along the lines of "god you're grumpy today" will only further the person's lousy mood.
truth: when someone says that they've never been in love, it does not imply a lack of the capacity to love.
truth: when someone repeatedly goes for a girl like that there's a small chance he'll go for a girl like you.

i hate the color gray. i hate people who take the closest stall in the bathroom instead of letting the person behind them have it. i hate people who suddenly are into hendrix, the beatles, and bob dylan after not even mentioning before a month ago. i hate when my necklaces won't come untied and i have to cut them off. i hate when teachers assume you are wrong just because they can't hear you all the way. i hate boys who think its still cool to throw open water bottles across the room when there's a substitute. i hate when my knee hurts and i can't sleep. i hate people who take my sarcasm seriously. i hate girls with annoying laughs. i hate when people completely misquote a song lyric in their aim profile. i hate when people copy and paste someone elses aim profile. i hate people whose posture is so bad that it looks like their shirt is just too small and they have to stoop for it to cover their stomach. i hate people who don't hold the door open for strangers. i hate not being very good at art. i hate the rolling stones. i hate when it starts raining just when you get a photoshoot started. i hate people who assume they're better than you because they've read more books than you. i hate people who brag about their writing abilities even in the least. i hate boys who say indie is the worst music genre ever created and then can't name one indie band. i hate when you find that none of your jeans look good with any of your shirts. i hate when people assume you're atheist just because your contemplative about religion. i hate "friends" who ignore me for half the summer then become all buddy-buddy once school starts. i hate that i think i've passed into the "status: not-dateable" phase. i hate that i think i was always in that phase. i hate how i stutter real bad when i talk. i hate that i never catch the clock at 11:11. i hate people who can't hold a good conversation. i hate boys who seem so into you only to completely ignore you the next day. i hate actually admitting to falling for a boy once in my entire life, just for him to not even care. i hate that i actually have this many things i hate.

truth: my favorite book, at this moment, is alice's adventures in wonderland. just as i've been listening to the Rent soundtrack pretty nonstop. just as i need to do my laundry. just as i want there to be a beautiful day maybe once this week to make me feel better.

i like when the moon's craters look like Rapunzel waiting for her prince. i like when i wake up every half hour because my dreams are too exciting to sleep through. i like when i want desperately to see a certain movie only to find it comes on that evening. i like driving around with my mom. i like people who say hi to complete strangers just because they happen to be standing close to one another. i like long midnight IM conversations. i like pretty smiles. i like finding the perfect dress in my size. i like movie nights by myself. i like staring at my window and watching the clouds go by. i like writing something that could possibly change someone's life but refusing to show it to anyone. i like rereading books. i like weight watchers 1 point carrot cakes. i like bad covers of songs. i like people who offer me their coat because they can see i'm freezing. i like transcendentalism. i like boys who dress like boys and girls who dress like girls. i like wide legged 70's jeans. i like boys with dreads. i like speeches of the 60's. i like strawberry poptarts. i like when conor oberst wears his hair long. i like the phrase 'hot damn.' i like people who smile when their picture is being taken. i like long walks on the beach at night. i like inside jokes. i like rainbow animation on aim icons. i like wearing tyedye shirts and flowers in my hair. i like mythology. i like audrey hepburn movies and flapper style. i like symbolism. i like owls. i like when you wake up and you just feel good about yourself. i like to inspire and be inspired. i like to make fun of the annoying, immature people. i like when i can see the nervousness on the faces of reality show contestants. i like the cattiness of models. i like hippie boys. i like using wordpad. i like researching with books instead of online. i like to meet new people. i like smiling & laughing. i like a hot bath after a long day. i like when i can answer all the questions on Are You Smarter Than A 5th Grader? i like musicals. i like you.

truth: the quickest way to my heart (friendship or otherwise) is to ask me what i'm reading. and then, a week later, to remember what i said.
truth: love doesn't hurt, so I know I'm not falling in love. I'm just falling to pieces. And if this is giving up then I'm giving up.

I tried to pass for nothing, but my dreams gave me away.

2008-07-20T23:06:17Z

I love artists. I love being around them. I love speaking to them. I love just looking at them. Especially young artists, because they are so ambitious and so idealistic. To call yourself an artist is one thing, but to be one, to actually create art, that’s something amazing. I’ve been re-reading the Philosophy of Andy Warhol (from A to B and Back Again) and it never gets old. I really love Andy Warhol. He's such an inspiration.

“That forty-pound shopping bag full of rice that I bought in a panic is still sitting next to my bed,” I said.
“So is mine, except it’s eighty pounds and it’s driving me crazy because the shopping bag doesn’t match the curtains.”

“I’m sure I’m going to look in the mirror and see nothing. People are always calling me a mirror and if a mirror looks into a mirror, what is there to see?”
“When I look in the mirror I only know that I don’t see myself as others see me.”

“The thing is to think of nothing, B. Look, nothing is exciting, nothing is sexy, nothing is not embarrassing. The only time I ever want to be something is outside a party so I can get in.”

“In the 60s everybody got interested in everybody.
In the 70s everybody started dropping everybody.
The 60s were clutter.
The 70s were very empty.”

“I don’t really know if I was ever capable of love, but after the 60s I never thought in terms of ‘love’ again.”

“Fantasy love is much better than reality love. Never doing it is very exciting. The most exciting attractions are between two opposites that never meet.”

“You can be as faithful to a place or thing as you can to a person. A place can really make your heart skip a beat, especially if you have to take a plane to get there.”

“People should fall in love with their eyes closed. Just close your eyes. Don’t look.”

“Some people think violence is sexy, but I could never see that.”

“If people want to spend their whole lives creaming and tweezing and brushing and tilting and gluing, that’s really okay too, because it gives them something to do.”

“I really don’t care much about ‘Beauties.’ What I really like are Talkers.”

“I think having land and not ruining it is the most beautiful art that anybody could ever want to own.”

Things are changing. I'm just realizing that summer's basically half over already. School starts at the end of August. I'm halfway done with highschool. But then I realize that my best friends are all graduated or in different schools or are going to be graduating anyway, so it doesn’t matter what classes I have this year or how I spend it. And it’s scary because there are so many things I want to say to so many people before they leave. I’ve always thought one of the most romantic things a person can do is go up to them and say “hello, I like you. You have nice hair and beautiful teeth. And I like the way you smile. I understand that this may come as a shock and I do not expect anything to come of it. I just wanted to put it out there so that if we decide to be friends we won’t have that sticky feeling of ‘does he like me? does he not? Should I ask him? Should I turn him down?’ And, don’t worry, I won’t ever mention it again and you can not say anything if you want. I just wanted you to know.”

That’s the kind of thing that’s real and people should do, but they just don’t. it’s like, everyday I am more amazed by humanity. For everything bad that happens, something absolutely amazing counters it. I’m really intrigued by the “trouble-makers.” Not because I want to save them, or change them, but because they never are really trouble makers. Everyday you can guarantee they will say something that is intelligent or warm, or they’ll do something so nice it brings you to your knees. It’s those kind of things that make me love going back to school and love talking to everyone. You’ll never know the good in somebody if you don’t open yourself up to it.

I watched Ever After earlier. I just realized how many times I’ve seen that movie. Every time it’s on TV, I watch it. Whenever I so much as think of Cinderella, I watch it. it’s not even one of my favorite movies. Yet, I’ve seen it so many times. “I know a life without love is no life at all.” “You cannot leave everything to Fate, boy. She’s got a lot to do. Sometimes you must give her a hand.” it's the same with Moulin Rouge! i love the repetition in that movie. the way the same line is said by each character. the same lyrics sung in different songs. "the greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return." "i owe you nothing. and you are nothing to me. thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love."

I’m falling back into bad sleeping habits. and this entry is heavy in quotes.

edit;
i really think this might've been the cutest thing anyone has ever said to me.
"i like you, in a ton of ways, and in anyway you want me to. and i'm always gonna be here for you, lyss. i'll fit whatever role you'll need in your life, hon.
you're a loser but i love you. in any way and every way.
so screw anyone else kk?"

If I said I was madly in love with you you'd know I was lying.

2008-07-18T14:41:35Z

"Do not trouble yourself much to get new things, whether clothes or friends. Things do not change, we change. Sell your clothes and keep your thoughts"
Yesterday I picked up a drawing pencil for the first time in a year. A pencil that, at most, had drawn three portraits previously. So, with little to no experience I started drawing again. And I really like it, even if I’m not good at all. And even if I can’t draw hair to save my life. One thing that has always frustrated me is the fact that everything I enjoy doing I have no particular skill at. How satisfying it must feel to excel in the thing you love doing. I don’t know, I’ll find what I’m good at eventually. I have a lifetime ahead of me, right?

Last night I relaxed in my bedroom. I watched Garden State. I reread some poems. I drew some pictures. I need the Fall. I can’t handle Summer much longer. I need a cool breeze and I need red leaves. I need you here, these broken ribs are biting me inside.

“I think most creative people I have met have a strong sense of inferiority they're battling all the time. It's probably one of the reasons why they went into writing, or painting, or acting to begin with.”

Today I’m planning on doing something really brave. But I think I’ll chicken out, like I’ve done every other time I’ve planned this. Something always stands in the way, you know? Even now, I’m starting to have second thoughts.

I’m not particularly happy right now. But I’m not sad, either.

And for the first time in my life I am aware that I am alive.

Oh. And I dyed my hair red two days ago. I like it better than most of the colors I've had. I think I'll keep this one.

I am not under any orders to make the world a better place.

2008-07-16T13:18:42Z

I’ve realized I am terribly misunderstood. Not being understood is fine by me, but being misunderstood is a real problem. People think they know you, they think that you’re an open book, HOWEVER they’re wrong. I’ve been called anything from the nicest person they’ve ever met to the biggest bitch to ever exist. And quite honestly, I’m neither of those things. I can be nice, I can be bitchy, but that’s not all I am. And it’s getting annoying to have to do damage control all of the time because people interpret my actions or what I say as different than what I mean.

There's nothing much really to write about. I messed up the only real good thing I had going, but it's okay. I'm okay.

"So be cool and believe in the things you haven't learned because you lost and it's gone but it will return. Now it's all laid out in front of you and that's half murdered the mystery. Are you still too shy to describe? Now the whole world is waking up, a ribbon cut for the opening. Yes, finally the day has arrived. So seek and rejoice. Fill your hands with something tangible and fly your love like a flag. And destroy the desire for that which is impossible. And accept what you get with a smile."

All that we have is hope and love. So don't you worry, child. Don't you worry about a thing.

2008-07-11T22:54:48Z

There is a little girl I know. I do not wish to offend her or make her feel uncomfortable, so I will call her simply ‘Girl.’ The other day I was sitting under a cherry tree, which was void of any cherries. I was leaning against the bark. I was watching the sky. I was noting how the clouds seem to chase each other. I thought it was curiously like a pillow fight, but realized that was not so. Clouds are pillows made of rain. They would not call it pillow fighting. We do not call wrestling ‘people fighting.’

Then again, they were not fighting at all. They were dancing, melting, colliding. And I was sitting there watching them. And this little girl, Girl, she sat down beside me. I did not hear her coming; she snuck up and sat down. She looked at the sky; she looked at what I was staring at.

The clouds are wrestling.

She did not look away from the heavens as she said this.
The clouds are wrestling. They are playing. And when they get tired of it, they will part or they will rain and they will die. They play and play for days, but their life ends as soon as they get bored or angry, why?

She did not look away; she was stronger than I am, this Girl. She persisted while I turned to her. She was a little thing, she really was. Her eyes were bright and alive. They were not fierce and they did not cut. They were simply bright. She had that childlike innocence and that naïve optimism. She thought the clouds really were cotton. She thought that every ‘why?’ could be answered.

They are not dead.

I told her.

They do not die. They just split up into many little pieces. And they fall and land on the ground. They become the puddles you splash in and the ocean you swim in. They become the water you drink and the tears you cry. They are still alive, they are still everywhere.

Why? Why do they split up? They are all the same; they loved each other, why did they give up?

I did not know what to say. Why do they give up? Can they not hold on anymore? Is it a conscious decision clouds make before they burst? When they turn into rain, are they sad to leave the sky? Will they miss the other drops that lived with them? Will they meet again?

She continued to look at the sky. I continued to look at her.

When you grow up a little you will understand, some things just have to be let free. You will be free one day. You will leave those you know. And you will be happy. The raindrops are happy now.

I did not understand what I was saying. I did not know what to tell her. Girl, this little girl, I did not want to take away that hope behind her eyes. I did not understand, but she did.

When I leave,

She said,

And I know I’ll have to eventually, I would not want to be like the raindrops and the clouds. I would not want to start in a castle and fall to the dirt. I would want to work for something. When you grow up, don’t fall. Because then I’ll never see you again.

She said that. She told me that. I looked at the sky. I looked at the clouds and how they sort of wrestled with each other. Almost as if they were the pillows in a fight. And I saw a rain drop in front of me. It fell from the cotton above. I watched as it mixed into the dirt and mud and disappeared. I’ll never see it again.

I turned to the little girl, I wanted to tell her not to worry, I will never fall, I will never give up. But she was gone. She left as quickly as she came. I hope I’ll see her again.

july, july! it never seemed so strange.

2008-07-10T22:34:49Z

hi. i dyed my hair today.

i really like it. and i like the fact that i'm barely sick anymore. today was the first day i went out since monday.
i appreciate the warmth of the summer much more than i did. and the ability to breathe clearly.
i'm so happy right now. the kind of happiness that involves running through meadows & singing by yourself.
it's pure joy. i haven't felt this way in a long time.

it shouldn't be so complicated: just hold me and then, well, just hold me again.

2008-07-09T13:56:10Z

Theory: I want to die. It’s strange to say that, or even type it. However, upon reflection, I find it is true. The dilemma is that I know most people will misinterpret that sentence. I want to die. But, the tricky part is that the reason for this is because I love living so much. I’ve always been the kind of person who, upon knowing that something bad is going to happen, I just want to get it over with. Say, I have a huge test to face, well I’d rather just take it then keep putting it off for weeks despite the fact that it’s inevitable. It doesn’t matter what the thing is, how severe it is, I just want to get it done and then there’d be no more worrying. Like, if you are going out with a boy and you would rather not being going out with him, then you just rip off the band-aid and dump him, right? Or at least, that’s the approach I take. Why prolong the pain? Every single person is facing death; it’s something that you just can’t change. I find myself thinking, “okay, I’m going to die: cool, let’s just get it done with and I can stop worrying about it.” Now, you can probably see the problem with this: well, of course I won’t be worrying about it anymore, I’ll be dead. So then I admit that maybe I don’t want to die. And I come to the conclusion that maybe when I accept death and stop worrying about it then I won’t want to die anymore. But if I stop worrying, then I want to keep living, and death will be an even more frightening subject. And then I think about it even more!

So, theory: I am 16 years old and have decided I’m too young to think of such a morbid subject, and should probably go watch TV and drink a beer, or whatever.

edit--
i say this in complete confidence in knowing he'll read it. and i don't feel like throwing the weight on his shoulders. but look at the date. it could've been 3 years. silly how i remember that.

i hate being scared every time i wake up in the morning.
i really think i need someone to hold me and tell me it's all going to be okay.

edit #2--
isn't it funny how songs can make everything better?
tell me a song that makes you happy.
mine is white houses by vanessa carlton.
and thirteen by ben kweller.