Reunited and it's feels so good

I am sooo happy to be back. Oregon was nice, it had wonderful gorgeous people and people who were like "I'm to pause right in front of the camera." Like fuck you people.... But anyways, we stayed at this house (friend's mother's) and it smelled of weed. Like you could get high of just eating in that house. But everyone's like nooo, it's not weed. Pfft. Please, I know the difference between weed and cigarette smoke. One I like (cigarette) the other I despise. I went to the Dollar Tree for the first time and it was huge. The one in medford, Oregon, literally has everything. It's scary.
"Do you have-"
"Yes"
"But I didn't even-"
"We have that too."

The Ross was jean wonderland. I was so happy. I think everything is better in Medford, Orgeon. Though it's very quiet and very....quaint. I was kind of disturbed by the definite lack of other races. And if Medford has better stuff, then Ashland is going to be my new home soon. Sexy people everywhere you look, lovely vintage clothes, heckity yes. Made my day. But I'm not paying $36 for leather bras and underwear held together by fishnets...what am I paying for, the lack fo fabric? Psh no. But that was my only complaint.

I was homesick, and have a therapy appointment. I might stop seeing my therapist. I'm fine. I think. Little weird at times, but it's not like I want to kill people. Just torture, gawd. Such a problem with this country. Ick. I found a new Pet, (and by pet, I mean someone like a toy, a playmate, that I won't fall in love with) but he called today and I almost died. He has the cutest voice in the whole world. Spending seven hours in a car is not that bad,especially when you are not driving. I want to sleep in MY bed, but because we live in an old house with spiders, that won't be happening for awhile. (Till the paranoia goes away). Old house + spiders+ hot days= they go further down into the house to find some place nice to chill, which happens to be my room, because it's the coldest room in the house. Really? Why? I don't know. I still have loads of work to do, 3500 pictures to take. I have literally taken 7000 photos. If you really want proof, I can get it to you. (i'll be annoyed though).

But I can't rest for too long, because next week is hell week for practice and then next saturday I'm going to San Diego to meet my family for some big shopping extravaganza.

Now if you don't mind...I'll be on the couch if you need me.

Title- (I don't know, do you?)(And yes, I know I could use google, but i'm lazy Xp)

ps. if you want to text me or something, just hit me up with a comment, we'll chat. Oh we will chat...

and all i hear is

The echoes of their voices and their stupid promises, their sweet nothings (lol) and my pathetic replies. I'm pretty sure the world isn't like that, at least not the whole world. I should have known better. That if I had played with a want to win, to take control, to abuse and misuse, I would have been better off. And yet, I can't hate them. Never. I'll always love them. But they were just boys and girls, and there a hell lot more of them out there.

So fuck it. It's really pointless. Really really pointless. I think I need a drink.

I'm sorry. I'm going to Oregon with friends. I have no idea what the hell I'm going to do in Oregon (really? Oregon?) But I'm packed and ready to go. I'll take pictures, if you notice I'm gone.

Title: Ashlee Simpson- Outta my Head

Up the steep and very narrow stairway

Though the song that line is from has nothing to do with life and it's underlying meanings, I found myself pondering if that's what life is like. A steep and narrow stairway, with loose floorboards and missing steps and at time plunging into darkness and we find ourselves lost. Are there rooms in the walls lining this stairway, if there are walls at all? The rooms would probably represent lull periods, rest stops, for the journey up these stairs is difficult and/or monotous. Do we race through it and find ourselves flying off the landing, if there is a landing? Or are we taking our time, easing our way through each step, testing it, reassuring ourselves that it can hold the weight of our being? And what then if we fall through? Do we sink into darkness, trapped, frozen in the fetal position, impaled upon our fears or is there someone or something waiting to catch us and help us reach the top? Do we walk it alone, or do people walk in and out of our lives to climb this steep and narrow stairway? Are there twists and turns or is it straight, does it divide into mulitiple paths or is it one that is our destiny? Have the steps always been there, or does it appear as we move forward? Can we head back down, can we go back? Can we stop and look around, or must we trudge on? Who made this stairway, us, Him, Her, THEM? Who decided we must climb it? Who was the first to see it be done? Up the steep and very narow stairway, most indeed.

"I don't want to redesign the world, I just want to take it down with me." Exquisite Corpse

Title- A Chorus Line- At the Ballet

The show must go on

I have a massive headache, and I can't sleep. I think I'm doomed to forever sleeping between the hours of 4am and noon. *sigh*

I finally went to San Francisco and it was the most tragic visit to the city I love ever. My best guy friend came along for the ride...eep....so we talked alot on the way up there and then we cuddle, blah blah blah. But we got lost...and it created so much stress. And then we didn't even go to Haight St. We went to an art museum. The only thing I liked about the art museum was there this cute girl with the sweetest brown eyes...I fell in love and completely ignored Andrew(best friend) for about an hour lamenting on my lost love. Seriously. But I got awesome shots of art that we'll be editing to make into the video. But I think after it's finished I will never listen to the song again. We went out to lunch at Boudin....and there was this street preformer and we asked him if he coould dance for the video. Alas we had no money and once he heard that, he completely ignored us. :( I was sad, like depressed. Ick. I hate myself for taking rejection so seriously. That's why I'm in therapy. If it'll help.

What else? So yeah that's pretty much it. I have no chance of perfecting the french language in time for the entrance exams I need to take soon. I will probably fail epically this year. *sigh* I'm going to go eat candy and weep for my little lost art friend. She was cute.



Title: Moulin Rouge 2- The Show Must Go on

What if I say I'm not like the others

La di da da da

So this guy the band Apocolytica looks like my ex-boyfriend. Which mad me sort of sad, horny, and gave me an incredible urge to dance. So I gave in to the dancing. When I'm awake I feel like I'm constantly preforming for him, trying to impress him. My friends opinions don't matter much, because hey, if they stuck it this far out with me then whatever follows should not be a problem. But it's the strangers I hunger for. (De ja vu?) I want their approval, their recognition that I am someone. From what I've heard it's the opposite for most people.

As for my hand, it's a bit swollen and I didn't want to leave the bed this morning, so I hunted for something made of metal that would be cold. Scissors worked pretty well, till it got warm, and then I laid my eyes on it. The monstrous beauty that could only be...a mountain of perfectly chilled(like metal room temperture) batteries. These worked extremely well and I'll have you know i'm typing with two hands now. Whicah!

My cell phone is being extremely retarded. Grrr. No idea what's wrong with it. Pfft. Might get a new one. Anyone care to like I don't know, talk to me...? :(

People...I love you. Isn't that more than enough reason to you know. Go to my about me, log on to yahoo and type in onlythelonely379 ....it's right there...waiting...hungry for your-

....

what?

where are we?

Cellphoooonnneee....where aaaarrrrreeeeee yooooooouuuuuuuu? (Cellphone, where are you?)

o_O

O_o

pfft. -.-

Go check out Jacob Karnas's blog for more interesting fun. Like he needs my help to get "discovered"...boy has got an ego.

Btw. I have pictures for you. SO keep posted for the next few days.

They...

..are....

com.ing...

Title- Foo Fighters- The Pretender

i get off being free

So...

Twitter made me sad. I'm emotional, and fragile. I have no problem admitting it. Most of the time I know why people hate me, delete me, get mad at me. But when I don't know, it's like, "Holy Hotdogs, what did I do?" Grrmugh. So deal with things on twitter is that, followings and followers got deleted. So when someone sad, "I'm depressed." I don't know, I leap, I panic. Mainly because I don't know the person very well and don't know what the hell they're going to do. So I tried to ask what was going on...and twitter is like, "This person isn't following you, so you can't send your little message thing to them..." And that's where I got sad.... My therapist will hear about this... *squinty glare*

so right now I'm in a good mood. Hence the unorganized thought process above.^^^ But I smacked my wrist bone against the counter, so I'm typing this with one hand. My eyes hurt, so I'm making a lot of typing mistakes. And I'm leading these two guys on, because frankly, I'm bored. I know. I know. It's wrong, you shouldn't do that sort of thing, people get hurt, how would you like it if it happened to you...blah blah blah. See<<< I think about those things. I'm not going about blindsided and selfish. (well maybe selfish) But I understand you're concerns. (No one has any really...*sigh*) How does this all tie in to my good mood. I'm in pain but I'm relatively happy.

I do dangerous things. I like risks. It's a lot better than playing innocent, being sweet and gentle, having the forest animals cuddle with me. I have nothing against those people. I get along with those people. But it's the flashing lights, loud music, close dancing crowd/most pit group I like. I adore them. Why? Because those people have dangerous secrets and want to live a little (some do...), yum-e.

But apparently, I'm too smart for the stupid people who will do most of the things I tell them too, reigning over the mindless would not make me happy. I'm too dumb or ridiculous for the fairly intelligent, and the moderately well off want nothing to do with me. It's virtually impossible to find people who like to play rough, but can understand when their mind is being messed with. Or at least it's hard in this town. God I want some interesting people. So moving is now looking favorable. It's been up for consideration for awhile and I might move....maybe

They always said, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade" no thanks you, I'll have a slice of cake instead.

How we gonna have a battle of twits, you unarmed.

Twitter, what are you doing?

twitter.com/hellsquookie

Title: PCD- I don't need a man

little terry got a gun

I went to therapy today. It was probably the closest I've ever felt to being normal. I mean. Besides feeling out of place constantly, I'm not happy with who I am, or at least other people aren't. Which is okay, I overcoming the need for other people's approval. I'm finding the peace of mind I've hungered for since forever in words of someone else's choice. The therapist surprised me, and I feel like I surprised her. My mother wants us to be "healthy", so she can tell her friends and point at me and say "we took this one to therapy" because she would do that. She probably has been talking to someone about this all the time. Did she tell them that I take drugs to help me sleep? Did she tell them about the weird dreams I have? Did she tell them I always think about dying? Did she tell them I'm suicidal? Does she even care? Or am I piece of gossip for her to use to keep her life interesting enough that she doesn't wish things would happen to this family? it could be worse. I could've been a lot worse of then this. I could be schizo or worse a psychopath.

I'm tried of hunting for happiness in people who will never understand these bloody words and lifeless smiles. I'm so tried of having to apologize for saying what I want, instead of what they want. I'm tried of lying to the doctor's and saying, "I'm happy. There's nothing wrong with me. My body feels fine." Constant pains, heart complications, headaches every two days, and the best part, wanting to be raped. When I was younger I used to think that when you were raped it also implied that they had killed you. In my mind I always saw a park, broad daylight and the man raping this school girl on a park bench, a knife in his hand next to her face as he forced himself into her immature body. And when he was finished, but not satisified, he stabbed her in the side and left her to bleed to death. And even now that image hasn't left my memory. Strangely enough, I still want it. Afraid? Hardly. If life is about experience, then I want those experiences. I want to feel things I can't imagine. See things I can't create in my mind. But what thrill does this life hold when you can see anyone you want to naked,(hence the no sexually deisre) when you can figure people out?

Where are the people that will make me live again?

Or am I really as alone as I think I am?
Title: Lupe Fiasco- Little Weapon