1 class is 1 hour and 30 minutes. I've attended two classes today so far.
I still have a night class to attend, and that one is 3 hours. Oh please save my legs and butt. They'll both be dead by 9 o'clock.
And guess what? I didn't totally get lost yet! I mean, I did lose my sense of direction and take many detours, but I didn't get so lost that I had no idea where I was. I'm so proud of myself. Pat on the back.
College is a money drainer. Food. Notebooks. Pens pencils. Planner. Textbooks. Textbooks. More textbooks. Books.
College is also a catalyst in gaining weight. Parties Free pizza Free pretzels Free cookies Free alcohol Free food! Equals FRESHMEN 15.
I'm hoping I'm the exception.
So far though, I'm loving college. Obviously I miss home. I miss Long Island. I miss Warren. I miss Austin. I miss Gil. I miss my running team. I miss all my youngsters.
But it's good here, and I'm trying to get by without reminiscing so much. Because it'll remind me of my freshmen year in high school. I'm trying to change that.
1. My sister, Sarah, was a whore. She chased after big, tall, rich guys and got money out of them.
2. I had a dream my laptop was a folding laptop, kind of like a book.
3. My dad and I drove to college, but I realized I forgot everything (except one box) when I got there.
4. I thought I was awake, and my mom was yelling at me.
5. A really small puppy. Really small and really cute. It peed on my hand.
That must be it.
I also just found out that 2 of my roommates are juniors. I'm the only freshmen. She told me freshmen in that dorm building is rare, but sometimes they cram a few in, because they can't fit us all in the freshmen dorms. Fmylife.
I don't know what's making me like this. It's like, another wave of depression hit me. The same one that hit me almost 4 years ago.
It's the one that makes me want to forget about everything, everyone else, and just go out and do whatever I feel like doing. It makes me want to go out and never come home. It makes me want to run away. It makes me want to do things my friends wouldn't want me to do, just to spite them. It makes me want to forget about people. It makes me want to forget about all the relationships I built up -- family and friends and everything else. It makes me want to either crawl inside my cave or go out into the wild.
What I'm saying is, it makes me want to be someone else totally different.
I'm sorry I'm not the happy person I was when you first met me. I'm sorry I can't even act like I'm happy.
There was a huge zombie outbreak, and I decided to turn my 15-room house into a sort of a hotel for some of my friends and people I knew.
Warren took the biggest room with a huge king sized bed and the large windows.
Phuong took a room in the basement for an odd reason.
And Warren's friend, who I don't even talk to, took a small room up in the ceiling. Yes, I had a room stuck on the ceiling.
There were too many things going on, so I don't remember all.
But one thing I remember is Warren's friend turning into a mouse and chewing a hole in my cupboard. I don't know why. And when he came back out, he was human again.
And there were people in my kitchen cooking food.
A part of my floor fell apart and there was this large empty hole. You had to jump or walk around it, because if you fell, you just didn't exist anymore.
When we went outside, there were so many freaking people. Bodies were pushing against bodies. It was hot and sweaty. You couldn't just walk. You had to walk with people. It was like a current.
They were giving out free paintball guns. As if they were going to protect us from Zombies. But we decided to go anyway. We ended up not getting them because there was a huge line for it. No, it wasn't a line. It was just a mass of people standing around, blocking our way to our paintball guns.
We went to ride a subway to escape. But the train was going in the wrong direction, so we decided not to get on. When the train left, there was only darkness. We didn't want to move.
And I really don't remember. So many things happened. It seemed like they all happened at the same time.
There was a suicidal girl who was either going to jump, drown herself, or cut herself to death. She had long black hair and was wearing some kind of a traditional dress.
Kinda like a cross between this girl,
and this girl...
So anyway.
A group, of about 5 or 6 of us, were trying to get her to become sane again. She held a huge kitchen knife, and you could see it shine every time she fixed it against the sun in the right angle. It gave me the shivers. We kept talking to her, telling her to put the knife down, to talk to us about it, and that everything was going to be all right.
She was standing on the edge of the pool, and we could not get to her by walking around. She'd just inch away. So we just jumped into the pool and swam toward her.
And you know what? She jumped into the pool and swam toward us, her knife in hand.
My heart skipped a beat and I panicked. I was moving too slow. She was moving extraordinarily fast for someone who was in the water. She swung the knife anywhere and everywhere. She cut something. There was blood. The blood slowly dispersed into the pool water, and we were swimming in blood. There was more blood. There was a scream. I pushed and ran and swam. I had to get away from her. I had to avoid her. She was crazy. She had a knife. There was blood everywhere.
I escaped, and so did a few others.
I looked down at the pool. There was body parts and the clear water had turned into murky blood water. The girl stood on the other side of the pool. She still held her kitchen knife. She stared at us.
And at that point, I seriously did not care if she killed herself. I wished she killed herself. I would love to kill her myself.
I want to scream! So loud! I want to scream and pop everyone's eardrums on the way! I want to show everyone what a monster I can be! I want to show everyone that I can be an angry person too! I want to kick something. I want to punch something. I want to puke on something. I want to rip something. I want to throw something and I want it to splatter, shatter, crack into a million bazillion pieces. And I want it to hurt. I want to smash the guitar. I want to throw glass bottles on the streets. I want to run around naked and look like a demon child. I want to set this house on fire. I want to blow my own eardrums out. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to cry so much, that I'll be too tired to even breath. I want to cry and be thirsty after. I want to freeze. I want you to burn. I want to fly and burn everything on my way. I want to kick someone. I want to punch someone. I want to rip someone. I want to cut something. I want to cut someone. I want to draw blood. I want to bruise skin. I want to cause pain. I want destruction.
I'm so fucking unstable right now. I want everything to burn and die and be in pain. I want all of you to burn in hell. I don't fucking care. Go away and don't come back. I don't care about any of you.
And at the same time, I'm only feeling this way because I want you so bad. I want you to hold me. I want you to talk to me. I want you to smile at me. I want you to touch me. I want you to look at me. I want you to sympathize with me. I want you to pat my head. I want you to comb my hair. I want you to play with my hands. I want you to tie my hair. I want you to touch my cheeks. I want you to hold my hands. I want you to hug me. I want you to care. I want you to care for me in a different way than you care for everyone else. I want you to come here and stay. I just want... something.
I don't know what I want.
As I said, I am so unstable. I'm going to blow up sometime, someday. I don't want to, but I think I will. Please be careful around me. I don't want to blow up on someone I love.
Another big, long rant that you definitely should not read. And if you do read, it probably is not about you.
If I didn't care about anything in the internet world, I would write out my brains right here, right now. But I do care. The internet world is a dangerous world. Not so safe, not hush-hush at all.
But I'm going to try.
Please, look at me. Are you seriously saying that you cannot see what you think you see in my eyes? How do you think I was feeling? Did my dark, colorless eyes seem happy to you? Do you care? At all? If I just go away now, will anything even change? You're just going to continue what you were doing today. You're all just going to continue to live your lives.
I know, because when my friends went away to college, nothing changed. Nothing whatsoever. Of course I missed them, but, so what? I have other friends here, friends my grade, friends younger than me.
That's how you think. That's why you don't worry. That's why you don't look at me, because you think I'm going to be here forever. But just change your thoughts for like, a week? Maybe?
And look at me! I'm so frustrated, I'm so angry, I'm so aggravated. I feel so alone and so uncared for. This is not what I asked for. This is definitely not what I asked for. Let me feel like I exist! For just one week? My last one week?
I understand I'm the same, there's nothing more to me. But, just one more week, and I'll be gone for 3 months. You won't see me for 90 days. That's long enough, right? Just look at me, seriously look at me. I demand you. Now. Look. At. Me. And pay attention to me, because I'm still here, I still exist.
But I won't be here within 6 days.
So look at me while I'm still here. When I'm gone, I won't give you the chance to glance at me. I'm going to go away and never come back. I'm going to throw everything away, as you have neglected me. I don't care. I don't care at all. Throw me away and I'm going to throw everything away. Don't tell me what to do. Don't tell me how to feel. Don't judge me, don't test me, don't make me angry.
Pamper me, make me happy. Be my slave for a week. Throw yourself away for me. I want to be selfish, I want to take everything away from you. I want you to look at only me, only me. Just me. Look at me goddammit. Buy this for me. Run for me. Come here for me. Go away, for me. Look at me. Talk to me.
Two days ago was Monday. It was the day my mom yelled at me for asking to go to Spa Castle. She yelled at me, saying that I go out too much. She said I should be using this time to study, using this time to get ready for college, using this time to prep up my studying skills, using this time efficiently, blah blah, don't hang out too much, junk, junk, whatever she said, don't hang out with friends, blah blah, wasting time with friends, blah, you're foolish, you're a failure, you're not the daughter I knew before, you're not the same, you've changed, you're not Helen, you're gonna fail out of school and live on the streets, and I don't want that to happen, but it's going to happen because you just keep fucking explaining it, and I'm going to fail at life. Yes, that was the day.
And as Mom yelled and me and my sister, my sister just goes downstairs in the middle of the lecture. She then proceeds to go out to our friend's house.
I realize 30 minutes later, all of my friends are there. My boyfriend is there. My usual crew is there. Except me, because I am the first child, I am getting the blame, I am sitting at home doing nothing because I don't want to get in trouble.
I sat on my bed for 2 hours. I wanted to go out, but I couldn't. I didn't want to watch anything, I didn't want to read anything, I didn't want to look at the screen. I wanted to go out, and that was it. So I sat on my bed, just thinking. Thinking and thinking.
Around 6 o'clock in the evening, I grabbed my sketchbook and my bag of pencils, and I went out. I walked to the elementary school playground.
And I cried. I cried and I cried, and I drew what I wished would happen to me. I drew the world as it appeared to me. I drew love as I felt it at that moment. I cried and cried, and the world was not fair.
I spotted a few of the crew walking towards the elementary school. I walked to another playground and sat inside, kind of hiding, kind of not really. They passed me. I stayed out until 9 o'clock.
Just so you know. It was the crappiest day of my life.
I have exactly a week left now. 6 Days actually, since it's 1:37-ish in the morning. I feel like I'm running out of breath. The sand in the clock is falling too fast. The second arm is trying to win a race I don't want it to be even a part of. Please, slow down. Please, stop. I don't want to go. I don't want to let go. I don't want to let go of all the things and people that helped me make so many happy memories here. I don't want to leave you. I want to take you all with me, but I can't. So please, stop.
Spa Castle (or In Spa, as it used to be called) was actually pretty really amazing! It had the swimming pools that shot out jets of water onto your back and butt. They had many different sauna rooms. They even had an ice room, where the walls are literally made of ice. Except it was all melting. Probably because we were there ;)
But you know, in the end, it really was not worth $35. It was for people with money. For people who have enough time and money for those sort of things. Or for people like us, who just wanted to see what it was like. And decided it was not worth it.
At least, I get to say I have been there and experienced it, unlike those who have to live through other people's experiences. I've "been there, done that."
IN OTHER NEWS. Mom should be able to understand my point of view. I want to live the world, so I won't have any regrets. Especially the regrets I have because I did not do something. It's totally fine if I regret doing something. But to me, I would hate to regret it because I didn't do it. I would rather do it, experience it, waste time on it, and actually have an opinion on it, instead of listening to other's opinions and then making my own opinion after that.
My mom and I, we don't see eye to eye. She would rather have me regret it because I didn't do it. She doesn't want me to waste the time and money, I guess. But, why do we live if we're not going to experience what the world can give us?
And I mean it, seriously. What are you doing here?
I don't know about you, but I'm here to experience. I don't mean, go out and do whatever the hell you would like in this one day. You'll probably wreck your lives if you decided to do that. Don't do that. I mean it, you'll ruin your lives.
I mean, when the opportunity comes and you have what it takes, take it.
And I should really take my own advice and chase after all the opportunities I have. I try, I really do. But sometimes my mom interferes. Many times my mom interferes. My short budget interferes. And my laziness interferes. I would love to get off my butt and join others in experiencing whatever there is to experience. But since we're all human and imperfect... I guess we can't get everything there is.
By the way, I made the background on Artweaver (it's like PhotoShop but it's free).
The sun is rising and setting so much faster now! Why?!
I need a bathing suit for tomorrow. So I shall try to go out and buy one today, if my parents permit me to.
I'm going to Spa Castle tomorrow.
I feel kind of sick from gulping down one Strawberry Banana Smoothie Blast and one Cappuccino Blast Caramel thing from Baskin Robbins, and then chasing someone around the block a few many times after that. I hear something from my stomach...
You make me cry more than anyone else in the world. After every speech you give me, I hate myself because you tell me I'm a failure, and I fail at life, and that I'm going to fail at life. I hate myself because you don't believe in me. I hate myself because you won't believe in me, and I think of everything I could do to make you believe in me. I hate myself because you hate me. I hate myself because you don't believe anything that comes out of my mouth. You don't believe my actions, you don't believe my words. You don't even believe I'm a Christian. You're truly a Christian, aren't you?
I can't be perfect, okay? You tell me to stop being one of those "teenagers" who hang out and watch movies and hang out and make memories. Apparently, being social is a bad thing for you. Then I wonder why you spent the whole day yesterday with your friends, in New Jersey, eating and fishing and praying like idiots together. You tell me I'm going to hate you when I grow up because you let me be too free, but you're wrong. I'm going to hate you for putting me in a cage and expecting me to be perfect in every way.
Just because I'm on my laptop does not mean I'm chatting away with Warren or playing games or doing whatever the fuck else I would be doing. I'm checking my emails, I'm checking scholarships, I'm reading articles, I'm catching up on my college news, I'm asking questions, I'm reading books, I'm reading a fucking textbook. I'm writing, I'm writing an essay. I'm writing my feelings out, I'm getting in touch with old friends. Yes mom, I'm always gaming, 24/7. Because apparently that's what you think of me. A failure and a retarded child, who doesn't care about anything else in the world besides rising up to the top.
And when you say I don't try, how the fuck would you know? Did you go inside my brain and poke it and ask it away? No you didn't. You didn't ask me, you don't know me. You say I don't talk to you about myself, you say you don't know me. Well of course you don't know me. I'm tired of trying to talk to you. I'm tired of trying to be friendly. I'm tired of trying to be the perfect daughter, perfect sister. Whenever I open my mouth you fucking judge me and tell me what I should do. You don't listen. You're not a listener. You're a talker, and you're a bad one at that. Stop talking, shut your lips. I don't want your stupid opinions. I don't want your stupid pity talk. I don't want you to tell me what to do. I don't care. I just don't fucking care. Shut up and listen. Don't interrupt when I talk. Stop trying to be sympathetic, I don't need your stupid pity. Stop telling me to be perfect. Stop telling me to be perfect.
And you tell me to stop caring about my looks. Then why do you go get haircuts, dye your hair, perm your hair? Why do you put on make up? Why did you get your eyebrows filled in with tattoos? Why do you care, when you tell me not to care? You tell me, college is for studying. You should not care about looks and all that. Are you fucking stupid? There's a thing called impressions, and you have to make good ones. You must be jealous of my youthfulness. I'm so sorry you could not live like this, but just because I have more opportunity to be more fashionable and beautiful than you, does not mean you get to prevent me from doing all that. You are a selfish bitch, and I hate you.
When I say "I need shoes," it means, I really need shoes. I have a pair of sneakers and a pair of sandals. I do need shoes. On the other hand, you have so many different pairs, high heels, low heels, sandals, sandals, sneakers, and another pair of stupid looking church shoes. You tell me I have too much and that I'm spoiled, but look at you? What the fuck are you then? You're telling me I have too many shoes? Why are you even talking about shoes? Can't I develop my own image? I want to develop my own image. I don't want to look like the hobo you were when you were 19. I know you're jealous, okay? I just don't want to live the life you lived. You told me, when you were young, you did not have this much freedom. You did not have this much money. So what? So fucking what? What does that have anything to do with me? I do have this much freedom. I do have more money than you. And you know what? I'm going to use it, because I have it. I'm not going to save it for when I'm 60 years old, like you. I'm not going to save it all for my future children. I'm not you. I'm going to use it on myself.
Listen. I'm not going to be perfect. Ever. I want to be different than you. I don't want to live like you did. I don't want to spend like you did. I don't want to buy like you did. I have a different sense of fashion than you. I'm going to buy what I think looks best on me. I'm going to buy it whether you like it or not, because I don't care what you think. Oh, and you tell me, I should stop caring about what others think and think about what I truly want. From the inside. Like an angel. Or so you say, which doesn't even make sense.
I am thinking about what I want. And I'm thinking, a leather jacket would be nice. High heels would be nice. A new nice haircut would be nice. A tank top would be nice. A see through white shirt would be nice. A lacey bra would be nice. New pair of eyes would be nice. And you know what, I don't care what others think about those things. It's what I truly want, from the inside. I don't care if I look trashy, I look slutty, I look like a prostitute, I look like a sad, emo kid, I look like an A&F bitch. I don't care, because you told me not to think about what others think. So if I want to look like a prostitute, I will mom. And I don't fucking care about what others think of that. There you go. Are you happy now?
Too bad I can't say it to you. You won't be able to understand this young mind of mine.
So continue listening. Don't interrupt me when I talk. I know you're rude and you interrupt all the time, but practice what you preach and listen to me.
I'm not going to be a failure at life. You tell me I'm a failure. You tell me I'm going to fail out of college. You tell me I'm going to live on the streets, begging for money. You tell me I'll probably work at McDonald's and earn the minimum wage. Thanks mom, it's really encouraging. But I don't really want to live like that. I know you really expected me to, because I'm a failure. But I'm going to go against your predictions and succeed and life. And I'm not going to share any of my success with you. I'm going to be a beautiful girl you never gave birth to. You won't recognize me when I return home. I won't be your daughter. I'll be someone even better than your daughter, because your daughter is a failure at life, right? I'm going to be so rich, that you won't recognize me. You tell me I'm going to live on the streets mom, but I won't. That's why you won't recognize me, because I'm going to live on a mansion you've never dreamed of. And you won't get to see it, because you're not worthy enough. I'm going to share the love you never shared with me. I'm going to share the freedom you never let me have. I'm not going to trap my kids in a doorless cage, like you have. Believe it or not, I hate it. It doesn't protect me, it doesn't help me become more independent.
Fuck you. I hate you. When I get out of this cage, I'm not coming back.
It's actually really hard to understand for me. There's way too many things going on at once, way too many symbolism put into one movie. No-Face, water spirit, Yubaba, Haku, pigs, frogs, blaaaah.
But one thing I know is: the relationship between Haku and Chihiro is just so freaking adorable. They're so young (maybe not Haku, he is a spirit after all), and they're just so in love! Young love, of course. But it's just so cute to watch.
I love how Chihiro is able to walk all the way back and actually not look back. She believed when he said , "don't worry, we'll see each other soon enough." Somehow, for some reason, she believed it. Personally, those words won't reassure me. I'll want to look back. I will look back. But she was so strong and kept her faith. That's what so young and adorable about her.
There's nothing more to say, because I'm freakin' sleepy and I can't think. I need to go to sleep.
I had many dreams last night, but I only remember so much.
Warren kissed me in one of them, but I could not feel anything on my face. So I didn't know he kissed me until I had opened my eyes.
A black out.
I opened my eyes and I saw steam. I was in a locker room. I had been here before. Not in real life, but in another dream of mine. I had been here more than once.
(The locker rooms from my dream were a lot more brighter, and with much more steam and fog)
I walked around the locker room of the school I attended in my dreams. It was time to empty out our lockers, but I had not emptied mine out yet. I used two different lockers, because I insisted I needed that much room. I opened both of the lockers and transferred everything into just one locker. I closed it, locked it.
I took a look around, and there was no one there. Just me and the steaming locker room.
Black out.
Dammit, I had another dream in my head a minute ago. I forgot as I was writing the sentence above. I'll get back to this...
EDIT. I just remembered while watching Chihiro walk down the long flight of stairs in Spirited Away.
This is a dream:
A group of us had traveled to some kind of a world, a spirit world of some sort. Our passports were dolls. They were blue. It acted sort of like a spirit holder, or some sort of a spirit transfer system. When we were at the end of our journey of a tour, we had to go back. All of us held our tiny blue voodoo dolls, and we were allowed to go on the bus. I was allowed. So I walked in, holding my blue doll.
But there were 4 of us who were denied of the passage. We held our dolls close to our heart, and in fear, for we might not be able to go back into our world. And despite the fact that I had already gone into the bus, my spirit had traveled into another body of mine. And in this body of mine, I was denied the passage.
We were forced to obtain different kinds of dolls. This time, they were orange. They were harder to obtain and also more illegal. Sadly, the bus had left without us.
We stood in the dark for some good time. We held our orange dolls, afraid of losing our only hope of going back.
I did not want to stand around and wait for chance. I threw the doll in my backpack, and I walked out. A guy and another girl decided to follow after me. I don't know what happened to the last girl.
I felt like I was going around in circles. I don't remember exactly where I was. I remember being high up, like on a hill. There was one lamp which provided light. It was also the only way of knowing I was going in circles. I also found a unicycle that I somehow knew how to ride.
So there I was, biking on my unicycle with two teenagers following after me. We neared a downhill bridge. We then spotted two kids, sulking in a corner around a bush. They looked lost and scared. We decided to take them with us, so we can get out of this world together.
So the guy took a boy, and the other girl took the girl. I continued unicycling.
Nearing the downhill bridge, I almost fell off. One side of the bridge did not have any sort of protection. No walls, no fences. If you walk over, you fall. I decided unicycling down a curvy hill would be a bad idea, so I abandoned the bike and joined others in walking.
(Imagine that, with one side being a 90 degree drop)
The bridge was slippery. We couldn't just walk. Our feet slipped and we lost balance. Many times, we knocked each other over trying to regain balance. So we decided to just slide down the whole thing on our butt. The kids enjoyed it. Personally, I was scared. The guy slid down first, with the boy next to him.
I slid down next, by myself.
The girl could not slide down, so she just let go of the girl. And the girl slid, and gained speed as she did. I was on the bottom and by the time the little girl came sliding down, her speed was so fast, she knocked me off and I let out a tiny little Oomph.
It was still dark when we regained our balance and continued walking. I don't remember where we walked to. I don't even know if we made it out of the world.
Hello my love. You really need to know how to control yourself. You, in every way. You know what I mean. So take charge in your own life, say what you need to say, do what you need to do. Don't let it get too far.
Because you know by the end, you'll only hate yourself for it.
Take good care of yourself. See you in the future.
For my next birthday present, a punching bag would be really nice. I can then stop ripping at my blankets when I'm angry, and start punching and kicking the bag. In the end, it would save a lot of money, and would probably make me a little more violent.
But really, I hate it when I'm angry and I don't have anything to let it out on. Different people use different methods. Some people eat, some draw, some cry, some cut themselves, some play games, some swim, some run, some bake, some rip papers, some bite their blankets.
I've tried several. I don't like any of the methods, except for swimming and ripping up papers. Except after I rip papers, I have to clean them up. And that makes me even more angry. And my neighborhood pool decided to stop loving me and close itself.
Which leads me to wishing for a punching bag.
It would be so nice if I could tape a face onto it and start punching at it. I can't think of any other idea to relieve my anger.
When summer break began, I promised myself to spend this summer wise. Or at least try to have the most fun. This is my last summer here. In the fall, I'll be off in college, 3 hours away.
So far, I did not accomplish anything worthy of noting. Perhaps falling in love with something.
I did not go away for summer. I did not swim. I did not get my tattoo yet. I did not go on a senior trip. I didn't even get my permit. But that's because I'm too lazy to read the booklet.
What the hell.
Edit. My friend found a tattoo parlor called Lucky Dog. I'm gonna check it out :)
And if I didn't say it, I sure thought it. I must have broken your heart so many times. I didn't mean to. Please forgive me, I really didn't mean any of it. I don't want you hurt. I never meant to break your heart. Please forgive me, I'm so sorry.
I don't know when it happened.
I remember when you took me to the zoo and you introduced all the animals to me. I remember when you cheered me on in my swimming competition. I remember when you pushed me on a swing. I remember when you took me to a spa, because I had just gotten a huge flu shot and you wanted to make me feel better. I remember when you made that chili salad every Saturday, with sour cream and oranges on the side. I remember when you sacrificed yourself for me, and decided to live in this foreign country. I remember when you packed me lunch in brown bags. I remember when you took me to the swimming pool, and we swam together. I remember when you sang me lullabies until I fell asleep. I remember when you used to let me sleep next to you. I remember when you cut apples for me after school. I remember when you took me to a karaoke, and I sang my little heart out, and we recorded everything, and we listened to it all the way home. I remember when you bought a journal for me. I wrote all over it and used it up in a year. I remember when you bought flowers for me after my dance recital. I remember when you bought flowers for me after my piano recital. I remember one time I got really angry and upset, and you just hugged me and I started crying. But you still held onto me and said you loved me, and you said everything was going to be okay.
I remember it all vividly. I remember you. But I can't feel it now. I really want to. I'm so desperate, I want to go back. But it's not there. Tell me, how do I go back? Help me, I want to know you again. I don't want to remember; I want to feel.
My mind and heart rushes when I listen to this song. In this order:
First, I start thinking of my freshmen year of high school. Just the word "FRESHMEN" pops up in front of me, and I see myself wearing tight jeans and a tank top and my black North Face jacket. I am wearing eyeliner and black nail polish. I am naturally skinny, and I have long black hair.
Then, memories start coming up. Some are good, some are bad. And although I have many good memories, simply knowing that I will never be able to go back to experience them again hurts me. I don't mean to sound emo, but my heart feels so tight and my breathing becomes quicker.
I cringe my face. My mouth tightens into a thin line. I try to grasp a memory, to feel it, to feel the vibrations of noise around me, to feel the stench flowing up my nose, to feel the slight but deadly cold breeze gently brushing my neck.
I miss it. I miss it all. The good memories. Even all the bad memories.
If I close my eyes and try really hard, I can see it again. I can see the room I used to live in. I can smell the perfume I put on. I can feel the coldness seeping through my new North Face jacket. I can feel a smile coming on.
But it's not really there. If I know it, it's not there anymore. If I have seen it, it doesn't exist anymore. If I know what it's like, then I know what it was like. I cannot re-know it all over again.
Time sucks. Time is such a cruel thing. Many people look toward their future. They plan magnificent things for themselves, be it cruises, parties, shopping time, having kids, getting the perfect job. Hey, I do that too. I look at the future and think of all the things I want to do. But imagining is a lot easier than going backwards. Because imaginations can take you anywhere you want. But the past only gives you what you already have. Had. But I want it now, and I can't. That's why time is cruel to me.
I swear I'm not emo.
It's just, whenever I hear this song, that's the only thing I think of. This song makes me not just sad, but it makes me nostalgic to the point it hurts me.
I really have to write about this movie. My heart tells me to do so.
Don't worry about spoilers. I'll make them orange so you can see them and dodge around them (or unintentionally read them).
Here, watch the trailer:
I don't think I'm a high-pitched squealing little girl (I hope not), but I'm not some cold-hearted stone faced girl either. I won't lie, I get scared pretty easily.
But this movie was more funny than scary.
Esther, oh Esther, you made me laugh so much.
One of the best moments went something like this: Kate (mom): When adults love each other, we like to show it. Esther (orphan): I know. You fuck.
Writing that made me giggle. Hehe. Hahaha.
Some other funny moments: - When Esther walked through the kitchen when the mom and the dad were having sex. - When Kate (the mom) bitch-slapped Esther in the hospital. The audience started clapping. - When Esther dressed like a whore and put on whore makeup and started hitting on the father.
And to add to that, the person I was sitting next to (my sister) made a comment about every single thing that happened in the movie. "Wow, she's an amazing artist." "She's a really strong woman!" "Oh no don't fall! Oh well, at least it was snow." "Jump! Why are you holding on?! Jump!!!!!" "Oh I know what happens! I saw this part in the trailer." And so on...
So all in all, the movie was filled with, "hahaha, what?" and "ew, blood" moments. At least for me.
One thing though. The ending sucked! No, don't worry, I'm not talking about the ending of the story. I'm talking about the end of Esther. It ended in the same way as The Ring 2. With the exact same lines and the exact same kick.
Ah well. I guess originality is hard to find nowadays.
So, go watch the movie with your friends! It'll make you laugh, I promise!!
Peace and love <# P.S. Those are flowers up there.
What? You don't make sense. How do those two even connect?
I've been lonely plenty of times.
I was lonely when I moved to this country 10 years ago. (Ohmygod that was 10 years ago?). I couldn't speak the language, and even those who did couldn't understand me because they were so bad at Korean. I didn't understand, I didn't know. So lonely.
I was lonely when I moved 3,000 miles across the country in 8th grade. Probably the worst time to move. For one thing, I was going through my inevitable preteen puberty; you get depressed for no reason, you hate your sisters, you hate your parents, you hate teachers, you hate the world. I even thought of ways to kill myself, because I wanted to know if my family would care if I died. I ran through the list: cutting my wrists, hanging myself, throwing myself in front of a car, overdosing on pills. It was pretty serious. On top of that, I didn't know anyone. New Yorkers were so impatient, so cold, so bitchy. I hated the world. So lonely, oh so lonely.
I was lonely in my junior year of high school, when I decided I needed to lose a bit of weight, but ended up losing way too much, and put myself in a bit of a danger. I struggled to keep myself healthy. No one helped me. No one asked me "how are you?" No one does that. People stare, people talk. But never to you. Never to me. It was cold and I was lonely. So lonely. And I will probably be lonely when I start my first year of college.
But you know what? You make relationships with these things called people. And you build something called friendship. You can't do that? Then I'm sorry, maybe you're being a bitch. No, even the bitchiest bitches make thousands of friends. You're probably not making an effort. At all.
Okay, I know. Those comparisons up there probably don't even compare to the loneliness thousands of people feel everyday. He wants a family, he wants to find love, maybe even just temporary short-lived love, he wants meaning in his life, he wants to feel special, he wants friends, he wants someone to care for him. I'm sorry if you're that lonely, I don't know how it feels. But there are thousands, millions who feel just like you. Lonely.
This world is not fair, and if you think you're going to get friends just sitting around, smiling and feeding the ducks, well it doesn't always work like that. You suck up to people. You make them look at you. You gotta demand some attention. And no, don't become an attention whore. Just simply become the person you wish you could be. It sounds easy, but it's hard. And at the same time, it's so much easier than killing others so you wouldn't feel so lonely anymore.
And why did he kill women? Grow up. Please. No offense, but you have the mind of a 2-year old, but worse. People like you make me mad. I personally know someone like that, and it makes me wonder how one person could be so freaking bitter. I don't care if you were thrown away as a child, raped by your brother, beat by your father. It sounds harsh, and I pretty much sound like a cold-hearted bitch. But I'm angry, and I'm ranting at you. Grow up. You're not the center of the universe. And if you want to be, maybe you should start talking so people realize you're not invisible. Maybe then you won't feel so lonely anymore.
Post Disclaimer: I was really angry when I wrote this. If you really are lonely and are looking for help, please look for help. I don't want anyone to actually feel even more worthless after reading this. I'm not mad at you. I was just angry at that man for killing people, just because he was lonely and wanted others to feel the similar pain. I'm sorry if I offended you in any way. Images from bing.com.
As I said above, I want a tattoo. It's been on my mind for a few months now.
So step 1 was choosing a design. That was harder than it looked. I kept changing it from dolphin to sparrow to shark to a sun to lotus flower to some symbol in Sanskrit to a phoenix.
At last, I decided to keep it simple on my first one, and have a kanji character.
ei
inochi
tamashii
I know enough Japanese to actually have one, unlike people who get Chinese and Japanese characters, just because it looks pretty. I cut it down to three characters. But I felt iffy. This wasn't me. Sure, the meanings were important to me, and the characters were simple and pretty, but it just wasn't me. I'm not Japanese. It just wouldn't be me.
I thought about me. Really, me. And the only thing I could think of was a star.
Why? Because I have always drew a star next to my name, starting 7th grade. I wrote it on essays, tests, homework. Even when I had to print something, there was always a star next to my name. By 12th grade, I didn't even bother to write my full name on homeworks. I just wrote HC and drew a star next to it. The teachers knew: they've seen the star for quite some time now.
As of now, I'm going to get a star tattooed on the back of my neck, slightly to the left. It's weird. I don't like it when everything is symmetrical.
Did you know we unconsciously define a person beautiful if their face is symmetrical? Most people do not have symmetrical faces.
Still, weirdly, I don't want the star in the dead center of my neck. Just a little to the side.
I'm going to give it three days. If I still want a star by the end of that day, it's decided.
I won't be able to smell the roses that I never smell. I won't be able to smell the smell that lingers in every individual. I won't be able to smell the strong perfume in Hollister.
I wouldn't be able to smell the meat my parents cook so well.
I won't be able to smell people sweating. I won't smell anything in the port-a-potties. I won't smell nasty human odor/gas.
And because I won't be able to smell, I won't be able to taste very well.
But all in all, I think it's pretty reasonable. It would be very hard to survive without sight or hearing. Without touch, everything I have learned from the beginning of my life would be gone. Without taste, I probably just won't enjoy food as much.
I'm sure losing the sense of smell would affect so much more than I listed above. I kind of want to know more.
