o HAI

My grandfather is actually in the hospital for potential heart failure. I didn't get to see him today, but tomorrow I'm going to go see him. I've been kindof stressed out about him, but today I was more relaxed since there was no emergency phone calls made to my phone today.

I'm dating Scott now <3 I honestly haven't felt this good about a realtionship since Jim, which is a nice change of pace. He sent me roses yesturday, the pink and white roses located above, and they smell amazing. This is so weird, I'm so shocked...

My sister is a cunt. I hate her. Once I graduate I'm getting the hell away from her. I could really rant about her; about how she doesn't give a shit about me, or how she doesn't do anything for me unless she benefits from it, or maybe how she never asks me permission for anything, or, oh, wait, I'm going off again. Sorry. I talked to my mother today and she is shocked how, *gasp*, Hilary didn't ask me if her airhead friend Stacy could spend a week with her father and her 16-month old and her 3 1/2 year old at our house. The father gives more of a shit about me then Hilary or Stacy. What's wrong with that? I barely talk to him. I just met him the other day. I have no fucking clue how that girl is a goddamn doctor. If I were that dumb and had a phD, well fuck, that would be awesome.

Less then 2 weeks until vacay. This is going to be awesome. I did a little bit of shoppnig after work tonight. Bought a few loose fitting fashion tops due to my side being all tattooed when I go on vacay. God I'm so excited for that. I'm pretty positive Scott is going to come up jsut to watch me get it done. David and him are probably going to be there, watch me bleed everywhere, half naked. This is going to be sweet.

It's 11.30pm, which means it's time for me to go upstairs. I'll probably be woken up at 7.30am to 3 boys yelling. O GOOD. I fucking love this house.

The Times They Are A-Changing

I'm at my bookstore job, and I'm not too sure if I am even allowed to be writing, but I have a lot of things going through my mind as of late.

My grandfather went into the hospital today. I came over to do some errands for them and the doctor is there. Surprise! He comes outside and tells me that they are going to call an ambulance. What was wrong is that a rash under his skin has been spreading up his right arm and it's been making him itch like mad. I called my mother, my aunt, my cousin, and my sister to tell them what was going on. My grandmother is alone at the house, and I'm quite worried about her. I'm actually worried about both of them.

My sister is pregnant again. She's 11 weeks into her pregnancy. After I graduate from school this next semester I have decided that I am going to move out of state. To Boston, MA or to Greensboro, NC. Why those places? Boston for graduate school and Greensboro because of graduate school... and Scott. Scott and I have been talking a lot lately and I have a feeling something really awesome is going to come from this. He's graduating from his Master's program this fall, and then he is going to move as well... so why not move together? I have been told not to get my hopes up, but I always do.

I've going on vacation to NH August 8th through the 14th. On the 7th of August I'm getting a tattoo on my ribs on my right side. It's going to be quite a massive and brutal tattoo, but it needs to be done. I also have auburn hair now. I think there's a rave that Friday as well (the 7th) but I don't know if I'll go or not... Cannibal Corpse is also going to be in town soon, which means I am going to go see them. If they play I Will Kill You I might just kill somebody.

Very tired, but I think I'm gonna try and do some reading. This Independent Study isn't going too well yet because I've been so busy working 40+ hour work weeks. I wish I could have summers again, but I haven't had a summer since '06.

It's way too quiet in here. It's the cusp between when everyone is leaving for home, before everyone returns for classes and such. There's an Open Mic night tonight as well, which means I get to judge poetry. I honestly haven't written anything since my last post. I've just been way too busy. I could go on and rant again, but I did that earlier with Scott over the phone. My phone bill is going to be way over my limit most likely because not only is he not on Verizon, but he is also long distance. Shit.

It's 5:30. Time for dinner. I should try to do some reading as well.

Insert your coin...

"Scratch card glory
Waist low pleasure
Black eyes, nose bleed
Don’t look back now
My white abode do you remember?
My white abode-
But it’s such a thrill just to find out

Sorry you’re not a winner
With the air so cold and a mind so bitter
What have you got to loose
But false intentions and a life so pretentious?"

I was reading a book we sell in the book store at one of my jobs, and after I was done reading the poetry I had two things hit me. Actually three.

One, I love Sally Bittner Bonn. She's an amazing mother, wife, teacher.

Two, she had written to her mother how she had "helped her learned the theory of feminism early" or something like that, and I thought to myself "why the hell didn't my parents ever teach me that sort of crap?" I then realized that a lot of the stuff I've learned hasn't been from my parents telling me, but having me, myself, go through situations, reading what I've wanted to, and I've learned that way. In a way, discovering new things to one is quite satisfying, but I also like learning new things from people. Maybe that's why I like philosophy so much. I like taking other peoples views on things and thinking about why they beleive in what they believe in, and why I believe or not believe in what they believe in. We all do this. Like, no one told me to read Bertrand Russell. I wonder if I would have the same feeling and reaction to him if someone told me to read him.

I'm really tired, but I'm trying to make sense.

The third thing I realized is that I think I want to get back into Rhetoric and Composition. I was talking to a teacher at my second job and she said that "composition will give you your stars" and since I was thinking about getting into composition anyways... I think I'm gonna do it. I've been looking into Northeastern's program, because it looks quite promising. I just want to help people.I told myself I wasn't going to teach, but honestly I just can't see myself publishing. I want to talk to people about the books were analyzing, I want to change lives, I just want to go somewhere in life. I know I have the drive and ability to do so, I just need to make it happen. I don't want to be rich, I just want to be happy. I've found this guy who makes me so happy, I just need a career to match.

My parents were up this weekend. I didn't see them much, to the amount of working I was doing, but the time I did see them was nice. It's weird having them around after not seeing them for so much.

Ahh I have so much to fucking say but my eyes are so tired and they are jsut s c r e a m i n g at me to close them and sleep. My paychecks are sweet though. I guess that's all that matters. Assholes.

I always seem to get frustrated towards the end of typing these fucking things. See, I'm swearing more. I don't understand. Maybe it's because I'm listening to the Acacia Strain now, or maybe it's because I jsut get so overwhelmed about the amount of things to say. I had this awesome rant about religion the other day, but I didn't write it down.

My sister was watching previews for Jesus Camp, and I was talking to her about how fucked up religion is. She didn't say anything, just thought Jesus Camp was "kinda scary." I suggested she watch the documentary on hell houses. Those things are so FUCked uP. Oh, and hate groups. Don't even get me started on how fucked up those things are too.

You want world peace? Stop being a douchebag and accept that people are different from you. Okay, so you're a christian, a muslim, a fucking whatever, that's cool, let's go get ice cream, talk about it sometime. I would love for a Witness to come to my door so I can talk to them about their religion. I want to sit down with one of my Latter-day Saints friends and talk to them as well. I would love to sit down with a Nazi, a Klan member, and talk to them. Not because I want to get into what they do, but to try and get a better understanding that they do what they do. Ask questions. We can't always assume, we need to know the truth for ourselves. Assuming gets us in trouble.

We assume there's an afterlife but no one knows. Fuck that, I'll worry about that mmm never. Why should we live our life for something totally fictional? Some people do it to get into this heaven, some people do it for morals, but why do we need a religion telling us what to do? Can't we think for ourselves? Question everything, know for a fact about things.

I was always told to do what I was told, but why? Why should I? Who are you to tell me what is right for me? I may know better then you and now a days, knowing my age and my experience with certain subjects I might.

It's 11:12pm Eastern time. I work in 11 hours. Just thought I'd tell that to myself.

The house is dark. Everyone is asleep. This combination is not a good one. It's a Saturday night. I'm home, exhausted, and not out at that party that's going on... I need to get some sleep. I can only keep functioning like this for so long.

I think too much. I'm starting to think that's a bad thing.

Bullet holes-I mean points...

-Hil and Lennox got back together <3

-My rents are coming this weekend to say hi.

-My nose isn't broken, just bruised badly.

-I'm trying so hard to find a way to go see him wayyy down in the Southern part of the state. August cannot come soon enough!

-I really cannot express how much I love finding new music. I finally got a suicide silence cd. Sick. Next purchases: Bring Me the Horizon, As Blood Runs Black, and the new August Burns Red cd. Yay!

-I'm getting the rest of my back done this summer. It's going to be devoted to killwhitneydead.

-That concert was sick. Scott the merch guy for KWD is now my lover <3>

-That last one was kinda a joke, even though Scott is pretty effing sick. Him and his sociology...

-Tonight is the first night I have'nt drank a bottle of wine. I have been doing that for the past half week. I had some Korean food and some tea, and now I'm tired. Oh, and hardcore metal music helps too. *eee*

-I need to sleep but I'm finding it hard to drag myself up to bed.

-. . .

"DEAD, MOTHERFUCKER!"

-Bed. Now. Work. 8am.

And I Watched the World Change...

Today was the first day since Friday I saw her put her eyeliner on. Her crying has been so frequent it has been unnessecary for her to sleek that black pencil under her white eyes. Now that things have changed, she realized that things were not going back to the way they were. Change was in the air. It came just like the thunderstorms that pounded their way outside our window.

While my life was changing, hers was to. He had left her, because he got cold feet like so many other men I have met, loved, loathed, left. My world was changing because a certain boy was now in it, this boy that captivated my senses, made me walk on air. It's so weird to see how hers is falling apart while mine is building back up.

I look at her, sitting next to me, and I remember how weak she was when we were up till 4am talking. I know she will become stronger after this. She has to, she needs to.

I glance at my nephew, who is building a fort in the room opposite and I wonder how he will act when he hears the news that this "cockroach" as I call him is not coming back.

The "cockroach" is not here. I'm glad he's not. I really want to throw his stuff out of the house, break his PS3 because that seems to be his heart. Break it like he broke my sisters. The pieces of technology would lay on the floor like the blood from her heart pooling, filled with broken love, trust.

I'm cold. I feel like there is a wind of change galloping through our house. I feel it, my sister feels it. The windows are closed, the blinds are opened.

I watched the world change before my eyes. Opened, aware, focused. Things will get better, things will be fine. I get to play mother, aunt, sister. Guardian, caregiver, concierge, friend. Lover, stranger, better in the end, things will get better...

I am aware now of how everything's gonna be fine...

Killwhitneydead tonight. Vip passes. Sweet deal.

I am prepared now and I am fine again.

This subject changed.

Beyond irritated tonight. Like beyoooond. I'm so done with this place. This is bullshit.

First off, to someone special, GO FUCK YOURSELF. I'm so sick and tired of this crap I hafta deal with because of you. Never talk to me again. I'm so glad I didn't see you this weekend or I would've probably punched your face in.

Secondly, I'm tired. Very, very tired.

But...

Thirdly...

This weekend is most likely going to rock. Rave on Friday seeing some of my RIT loves (<3) but only if I don't pass out from working 7 days straight. Saturday I'm hanging out with Mr. (insert a witty nickname for him here), then Monday someone comes to visit for a few days!! Killwhitneydead is on Tuesday as well, which is going to be fabulous.

I got my independent study on Bertrand Russell for my final semester. I'm starting it now because it's gonna take that long. I'm psyched but it's gonna be a lot of work. I hafta read 7 of his books, including his Nobel prize winning one: The History of Western Philosophy. Ouch, but it's gonna be so worth it.

I really wish I had a rant for tonight, I really wish... but I wrote a poem tonight about drugs and how a certain someone makes me feel. Like,

"The pot smoke that crawls through my
lungs, that makes me gasp for breath, I
find myself feeling this sensation like
your kiss.

Your lips are so full, so plump, they remind me of
a peach, as I lick and kiss them softly, sweetly, as
if afraid to break the skin, the delicate skin, which
pot smoke has traveled through so many times..."

It's a really rough draft, since I just got the idea at work tonight and wrote a sketch down. I love when you start rambling on in your thoughts and one just pops out at you. That's what happened to me. This is the first time I've gotten around to writing for the hell of it this summer. I should send this to my poetry teacher, I think she might like this poem...

"...and that is why Ecstasy is the prime factor; the main
factor; the one true factor. Marijuana, alcohol, Special
K all adds up to this blurred, whirlwind of emotion. The
kisses intensify, the touch of your hands makes my body sweat
even more so then the ecstasy which is dilating my

pupils, making my heart beat faster, making me remember that
this is all too real, try and calm down. But no, keep going, go
faster, harder. Do you, you have to. The kisses, the touch, the feel
of you pressed up against me, and then you look at me..."

Writing tonight, even writing this, has made me feel better. I still want to go to bed though, because I feel like I am invisible in this household, absolutly have no say in anything. My posessions are worthless, my opinions thrown out the window. I'm only good to get yelled at for things I didn't do. Fuck this. But somehow, thinking about him makes everything okay. Especially when he rubs his cheek aganist mine, when we're driving in his car and he'll look over and smile, that grin he gets when I do something silly...

We'll never be, but at least we still have each other when he's in town. Him and his hands that search my body, as if looking for buried treasure. Him and that smile that will always spark when I'm around...

God, I wish he wasn't sleeping right now. I wish he was up here, and not all the way down there. But this weekend, after he comes home, I'm going to see him, and I can feel his breath aganist me once again...

"...in the eye. Brown on Brown. Boy on Girl. And the world
stops, and all I can hear is my heart beating. Your hands are on my
thighs, your lips are pressed together, your eyes are staring into
my soul.

I want you, I want this. Whether on or off drugs, this is
you, and me. This is us. Our own fantasy, where the sky is
green, the clouds are not stained with rain, and the pills are
plentiful. This is it. This is our world, my world, my own."

I fucking told you it's really rough!! It'll get better though, my writing will intensify and knock your fucking teeth out.

I'm really starting to think about possibly teaching writing. I'm a little unsure about that though, but a lot of doors are opened to me... I just have to choose the right one...

Rhetoric, Publishing, Writing... what one do I choose?

My mind is starting to drift, I can feel it starting to slip into slumber mode...

wait...

"Okay... now the monster is awake.... it won't rest until there's nothing left... maybe ever and anon... i forget about the pain... some bending light comes along... and flowers lean towards the sun... some people fall in love and touch the sky... some people fall in love and touch the sky... some people fall in love and find quicksand... i'm somewhere in between... i swear... i can't make up my mind..." -Incubus, Quicksand

With the leaves the trees and the bees and the things...

So I've been pretty much working past 8 days straight, with no intention of slowing down. It's very frustrating because I have nothing to show for it. I'm in debt, and I can feel my roommates (oh yeah, that whole move thing actually happened) starting to get aggravated at me at how I can't even afford food. Or gas. Or going to the doctors because I need to go to the doctors. I've been really sick. Or a new phone charger...
So my sister, her boyfriend, and my nephew all moved in. We're one big dysfunctional family. It's pretty awesome. My Mom is now living with my Dad in New Hampshire. I've apparently gotten in charge of my grand parents, which is always a fun task. You know, taking Oma shopping and to other such places, calling them, whatevs.
Is it sad that I haven't even looked at my grades from spring semester? I do, but at the same time I don't care. I know I did good, haven't gotten any letters saying how much I suck at school.
Ok, so I feel like I'm holding things back here. I'm extremely frustrated with everything. All of the above, and I feel like drinking tonight, cause when ever I have money I always make sure to buy some sort of alcohol in surplus. Call me an alcoholic, I don't care, I'm in college still, got that one more straggling semester hanging over my head.
I guess it just feels weird living with my sister, her boyfriend, and her son. I feel like... the "Outcasted Aunt" or something. The one who has no money but all she does is work... and drink. Eh, it's like some stupid real life show that everyone loves to watch because of situations like this. The aunt is freakin out, and the happy couple is in the other room watchin tv, eating Wendy's, and their son is asleep upstairs. When they leave to go grocery shopping, I'm in charge of doing some cleaning because I can't say no. What's even more frustrating is that they eat my food, but as soon as I eat theirs I hafta pay for it. I also love getting yelled at for not putting my dishes away when CLEARLY I do.
I should get my own place, and I really want to. I mean, I love the freedom, but I hate the roomies. It's only been like two weeks and I'm already feeling like this. Ridic.

I'm stuck though, no money, no other place to live, and I get to live with these people. I feel like I'm in the way, and I'm getting fucked over. This is my new life. Welcome to it.

Welcome to where time stands still
No one leaves and no one will
Moon is full, never seems to change
Just labeled mentally deranged
Dream the same thing every night
I see our freedom in my sight
No locked doors, no windows barred
No things to make my brain seem scarred
Sleep, my friend, and you will see
That dream is my reality
They keep me locked up in this cage
Can't they see it's why my brain says “rage”
Sanitarium, leave me be
Sanitarium, just leave me alone...

I got this!

So I probably shouldn't be writing but I am. It appears that my absence in the Rochester area this weekend was felt mostly on the massive amounts of homework I am currently encountering. I have papers due, portfolios due, but no exams, thank god on that part.

Was my absence worth it? Of course. I had a fabulous weekend. I came home Sunday and tried doing homework but could not get myself to do any. I did some, but not a whole lot. I'm thinking of trying to pull an all-nighter tonight to get this crap done, since stress from my life is starting to weigh itself onto my shoulders. It was such a nice weekend though.

I have also decided that I'm going to either trade in my car or make it better. It's a '99 Subaru Legacy with 52,000 miles on it. Yeah, a 10-year old car with 52K. Pretty sweet, but it needs some work. There are a few dents in it from it's previous owner, and I would like it to perform better. If I do end up getting a new car I want Camaro. Those things are HOT. The new ones look fabulous as well. The reason why fixing up my car is the better choice is that I plan on, now that I think about what I said last time, trying to stay in the States until I get my foot in the publishing door. I'm looking into wither Boston or NYC, and I wouldn't need a car in both of those places. It would probably be sitting in my parents garage in NH. I would hate to have a new 2010 Chevy Camaro just sitting there gathering dust.

I bought my first suit today as well. I went to the mall to buy nail clippers and ended up buying a $200 suit. Not bad, it'll be good for graduations this year, weddings this summer, and to wear when I go in for job interviews in the fall. I must have lost weight cause my ass can squeeze into a size 4 now... sweet. Wish I was thinner, like always.

I feel myself starting to ramble because I reallllly don't want to write papers, but I have to. I have a feeling I should go to the store and buy some energy shots and some junk food cause this procrastinating is awful. One of my papers has to be 15-20 pages long... and I have 8 or 9. I can't remember. I got up early this morning to write part of it. Ah, well...

If I update this later don't be surprised. It'll probably be me trying to stay awake... or being aggravated with my work.

In the words of Whitney K...

"I don't consider myself an American. Just because I live here doesn't mean I belong. My family comes from Europe, and I long to return there. My opportunity to attend Grad School in the UK is starting to grow, and I plan on taking that opportunity with open arms."

To add on, I honestly have never felt like I belonged in this country. I've always dreamt how my grandmother and my mom must have been when they were in Europe. I see pictures, I hear stories, and I long to experience it for myself. I will if I get the chance, believe me.

Let me tell you something realll quick. I'm under a lot of stress in school, okay? I have projects, final papers, hours for interning, and exams due and I only have a month left to do all of them. Damn, I feel screwed already. Where did this semester go? It seems just yesturday that it was February, but no, it's the end of March. If I were graduating this semester and not in the fall, yeah, I'd be flipping out like a lot of my friends are doing.

Also, I'd like to state that no one owns me, okay? Can we just get that CLEAR? I believe strongly in women's rights. I'm not sorry for believeing in it, and when a guy says, "Yeah, you'll do what I say cause I own you," then no, that's a huge red flag. Sorry to say it, but that's just how it is. Maybe the whole "I do the Vagina Monologues" thing didn't tick you off with that idea, but I'm telling it to you in writing. No one owns me, so get used to it. If you can't, then you can leave. Simple as that.

And I honestly forgot about this... and I left it open all night... but we're good.

OH! Yeah and people who think that "o hey, I miss you soo much Whitney, let's hang out soon" when you were such a bitch to me (like demanding time to see me and not understanding that I'm busy as hell) and took me off your friends list on fb... you THINK you can come back to me that easily? No. No, you can't. You people don't understand how busy I am. I'm not going to drop everything and hang out with you, especially when you were such a bitch to me. I love it how you people think.

But hey, I have better things to do then bitch about stupid shit. I have an internship that is pretty much offering me a part-time job that I might take. I am just about to go there for 10 hours as I type this. I'm starting to think of my philosophy presentation that's due sometime in early April and I'm beginning to understand what it's all about; what the author is trying to say about impurity. I got better things to do then bitch about crap, but sometimes it just feels great to bitch.

I Told Myself

I told myself I was going to try and not go online today; not even turn the computer on, but here I am typing after a day full of reading, getting coffee and contemplating whether I should go on the computer at all.
I'm not even on my own computer, I'm on my mothers.
I just got off of spring break. I didn't do anything special for spring break besides errands, shopping, a hint of partying and sleeping; lots of that.
After a late night food run with the boy last night, and some heavy talking in the car about our futures, it has accured to me that a lot of people think I am going to get the career I want. I was even told today that with the amount of drive I have I will successfully get it.
Other people think I will, I am nervous about it.
Maybe it's because I know that someday I will probably start a family, and the career I want might but that in danger, but I really want to help people and stop hate in this world. I tried nursing, I tried psychology, and none of that stuff appealed to me. English has and rhetoric has as well. Especially rhetoric. Words have such a high impact on every day life. How you choose to say words, type words, even define words has a great effect on people. Like the word effect, should it be affect or effect? What is the difference? That's where vocabulary comes in. If I were to say vocab instead of vocabulary how would you percieve me?
Rhetoric is an extremely powerful tool today in our society. If you know me, and I've probably said it before, but I want to get my masters in rhetoric and composition. Picking apart the logos, ethos and pathos of a desired text, for example the text of the "Letter from Birmingham City Jail" written by Martin Luther King Jr.; one could write a book about just that letter because it has been said that it is one of the most important documents of the civil rights movement. Read it sometime, it's worth it.
And then there's the people saying how Obama's January 20th speech was no good, when really if you look at it and pick it apart it's quite a good speech. When you hear someone speak, it has a different effect then reading what they're saying. Going to MLK's "I Have a Dream" speech, I read it at first, and was like "okay, so he repeats this and does this" but when I heard it, watched it, followed along with it, it became an extremely powerful speech.
I swear to god I had a point with this. Oh, yeah...
A lot of people think rhetoric is bad. It's not. Don't listen to what the news say about "there was some rhetoric in the white house today" when it happens every day. Not all rhetoric is bad. I mean hell it's happening right now, I'm telling my point about how rhetoric is useful and how I want to get into it as a career. It happens to us without us even knowing. And now I'm stopping :)
The composition part would deal with how things are structured; how rhetoric is successfully structured in a speech, in a paper, what have you.
It hit me today, again, that I am graduating this year. I have my associates and soon I will have my bachelors. Damn. The closer graduation gets, the more it hits me. Maybe I'll actually cry at this graduation. I did not cry at my high school or 2-year graduation because I was excited to move on. Even though I am excited for what the future holds, it's just the real world is coming up fast.
It is a beautiful day out in upstate. School starts up tomorrow, and this has been a fabulous break from my work. The work will get harder though as the semester draws nearer. Final exams, papers, projects will soon take over my life and my very relaxing week, which I have taken for granted, I will long for. Days of just waking up and lounging in bed for an hour, cuddling, will be gone. Alarm clocks will rule my life, whether waking up or just napping. My diet will be out of whack, living on espresso shots and sugar, and I will long for being able to sit down and write what I want, not what other people want me to.
Ah college life, how I'm going to miss you.

Kay.

Bleeker: Hi. Hey, did you like put a 100 things of tic-tacs in my mailbox?
Juno: Oh, yea, that was me.
Bleeker: Heh, why?
Juno: Well, you know their your fav, and you know you can never have too many of your favorite 1 calorie breath mints.
Bleeker: Well thanks I think I’m pretty much set until college on the tic-tac front.
Juno: You know Bleek, I was thinking, and I’m sorry I was such a huge bitch to you. You don’t deserve it.
Bleeker: That’s okay, you know, that’s okay.
Juno: And also, um… I think I’m in love with you.
Bleeker: You mean as friends?
Juno: No, I mean for real. Cause you’re like the coolest person I’ve ever met and you don’t even have to try.
Bleeker: I try really hard actually.

I always seem to get in trouble. I'm about to again.

I'm writing another paper on cannibalism, this time on how it's a race issue. Sounds fabulous.

I graduate in a December.

I have yet to apply to graduate schools, but shortly I'll start. Rhetoric and Composition is looking like a prime choice, along with Publishing and Editing. I'm looking into Emerson, Northeastern, Mich St, Penn St, and NYU.

I still hafta take that damn test. I really don't want to. Really, really don't want to.

I should post some of my writings I've been writing for my poetry class. I think they're good, but that doesn't mean other people think they are. I've been experimenting with different styles such as sestinas and and pantoums. I usaully write prose but the styles are always fun. You probably don't think so though.

I haven't really written anything freely this semester so far, and it's half way over. Maybe it's because I've been so stressed out with school and trying to get the massive amounts of reading/writing/studying done.

Life is okay though. My mother and I are aight. (God, did I just say aight?) I'm still nervous about my sister, her boyfriend and my nephew moving in. Hopefully she'll be more flexible then my Mother. I think I've said this before, but I really don't want her to be like my Mom. She's my effing sister, not my Mom.

I'm a little sore right now, but in all the right places.

Sundays have seemed to become my day of rest. After a heavy night of drinking, Sundays are a sort of relief; a day to catch our breath and prepare us for the week ahead. Every Sunday I seem to take a huge gasp of air and dive right into the week. Spring break is next week. I cannot wait. Even though I'm not going anywhere I plan on sleeping, a lot.

Also, I don't need knee surgery which is a good thing. Just lots of rest. Seeing the doc on Wednesday to decide what the hell is going on in the knee area.

Oh, and I think my last post dealt with something coming? Well it did, and it's still throwing rocks at me. The constant thought of what I'm going to do after graduation, what my career is going to be, everything hit me. It's a constant struggle.

Oh well.

Back to homework...

Cause we belong together now yeah
Forever united here somehow yeah
You got a piece of me and honestly
My life would suck without you

Warning Shot

"I feel something is coming,
Coming like a rhino on his hind legs
Is about to storm in and kick me
Down so hard the wind will be knocked
Out of my beating chest and I’ll finally be
Dead.

I’m either on the verge of a break through
Or the verge of a break down
I haven’t decided which one yet but neither
Can be good, especially in my condition
The condition of anxious, fear, depression and
Suicide.

I feel a certain numbing pumping through
My veins, as if the ice from outside is captivating
Itself into my body. I look fragile, I feel like death
Everything is not going the way I want it to
I hate this, I hate this, I hate this
I want it to stop

But at the same time I don’t.
Something good must come out of this,
It always does.
A break down during a break through, or a
Break through during a break down?
Whichever one leads me, I’ll take it."

Just wrote that, still a little shaky. Might need to clean it up a bit later...

Fuckers.

Turn Up the Radio.

I'm a little confused as to where to start, but I guess I'll start with today.

After a heavy night of drinking, dancing, and yelling the word "motherfucker," I wake up in the dorm room realizing that my friend puked in front of the bar last night. I feel bad because she was thrown out of the bar as well while I was dancing with one of my guy friends. So today I come home and we're having a family birthday party since my birthday was last week, and I can feel the tention. It bursts all of a sudden when my sister's boyfriend, who is moving in, and I start talking about drinking heavily. My sister freaks out, my Dad steps in and so does my Mom. I start yelling at my Mom to shut up cause she is NEVER on my side, and then Dad starts yelling, then my sister does, and this is all infront of my other relatives. So I take my beer mug and march upstairs. I'm upset as hell, when Dad comes upstairs to apologize, my sister soon after him, and her boyfriend as well. Short but sweet, my mother is still a cunt and I don't know if I'm going to like living with my sister again when my Mom moves out. I don't want to think of my sister as a mother figure, but that's what she's starting to portray herself as. I don't think I like that. I want a sister, not a mother. But, I guess it's hard when your sister is a mother...

New tattoo February 12th. Yes.

It's actually 6:15pm so mind the time. I know I can fix it but don't feel like it right now. This all happened around 1pm. Dad was home this weekend, and I barely saw him. I haven't been to my internship in a week because of my numerous doctor appointments about my knee. I hafta email her and apologize.

I've been told I have a lot of great potential (and don't agree or disagree I don't want to hear it), but I pretty much got drunk... 5 out of the 7 days last week. I'm not drinking at all this week, nope, none, nada, nothing. I'm not an alcoholic so don't fucking say that.

Ta for now.

Empty as in dead as dead.

I miss you.

I'm so pissed off at myself right now cause I miss you.

I know I shouldn't, but I'm pathetic and do.

I'm getting a tattoo cause my Dad suggested I get this.

It's going to be a sun with two faces in the center.

Comedy and Tragedy.

It will show my bipolarness and the constant struggle I have with this crap.

I really miss you.

My Dad is fine with me getting another one, my Mom not so much.

I'm going to even my arms out, and try to make them look decent.

Since I have a feeling money will be scarce, and I want to get one more.

Just one more before the money dries up.

School starts in a few days, and with this I am anxious.

A lot is going to change this year.

My rents are moving, my sister and her boyfriend and her son moving in their place.

Which means I stay put and help pay rent with them.

She's graduating, I am as well.

I feel a marraige proposal on her side is coming up as well on her part.

I'll be taking my GRE this year, and applying for grad schools.

Hopefully I'll get into a few of them so I can get the hell out of here.

That would be fab.

I really want to go to bed, but I think it's too early for this.

My knee isn't doing well at all.

I have to go to physical therapy most likely, and surgery might even be in order.

Maybe I'll just fuck it and go.

Who cares anymore?

Dead and Gone.

I wish.

Anyways, I just got my books for this upcoming semester. Did you know that I'm going to graduate with my bachelor's degree this year? That's so scary to think how close I am, and then there's graduate school... I've got about 5 schools in mind, 6 if you include one out of the country. My Mom, whom I have been getting along much better with, is moving and I'll be getting my own place. All of these things, it's so weird.
I'm working on a story right now, it's 8 pages double-spaced, and I plan on using it towards my final portfolio to get into graduate school. Right now it should go under the genre of 'Love Story' but I plan on twisting it around, like I do with most of my writings.
I must admit, I am still irritated with a number of things. For one, I just the semester to start again, since I am itching to finish. Another is how my wireless internet won't work for what seems more than 5 minutes at a time, but the most annoyance is my knee. My goddamn right knee. I wake up every day around 9-10am in extreme pain, so I slap my brace on, take some pain medicine and get ready to start the day. It also doesn't help me that I just lost my job as well.
Here's a monologue I wrote::
"Me? Crazy? No, why would I be crazy? Why would I be angry all the time? What reasons do I have? The fact that I’m going to be living on medication for the rest of my life due to my mental illnesses, or the fact that I should never have kids? But, oh hey, can’t have kids until you find someone to have kids with, which will never happen ever again. It might be the fact that I feel like my family hates me and so does everyone else, or the fact that no matter how normal I try to be I’m not. Why would that make me crazy? It is the fact that no matter what I do I always seem to screw things up? Or could it be the fact that no matter what I do things never go my way? People treat me like I’m a child when really I’m an adult. I feel like I need to prove myself when really I shouldn’t. People need to stop being such assholes to me. I wouldn’t be like this if people were nice to me and actually did what they said they were going to do. Help me out when I need help, comfort me when I need comfort. Shit like that. But no, let’s hit me again; beat the crap out of me, and see where that gets me. Let’s shove pills down my throat and as I look through the world with numbing eyes and suicidal thoughts since the medication still doesn’t work because you want me to be normal. I want to be normal. I will never be normal. What the hell is normal anyways? Why am I so angry? Why do people make me so mad? Why am I like this? Why can’t I just die already? I don’t get it why you people think you can fix me when really I don’t think you can. I think I’m duped to live like this the rest of my life."

I wrote that a few months ago with the thought of a younger me in mind; a me in my teenage years. I would like to use that in a play, but I don't know if I ever will.