I screw everything up.

shallow bitch
go on!

make decisions!

hurt people!

ch-ch-ch-changes.

I feel like my life is catching up finally with modern stereotypes of the average American teenager.

Pretty different things happening recently; some are good, some absolutely terrifying.

I am finally friends with I.S.; we talked some issues out a couple weeks ago and today had a wonderful conversation. His sister adopted a baby and now he's an uncle--I couldn't be more excited for him; I know how much he likes kids.

S might have HIV. He is six days older than me, and may have recently contracted a virus that leaves its victims with an average life expectancy of 33 years after contraction and that can turn into The Negative Connotation that is AIDS, thus shortening that 33 years. Why isn't there a cure? Duke University, the college/corporation that basically owns my hometown, is developing a shirt that refracts light around its wearer, thus acting as an Invisibility Cloak, but no one can find a drug to fight microscopic bodies that can't even survive in open air? This scares the hell out of me.

I am officially The Virgin in my group of friends. It has become a stretch of the mind to actually think of a close acquaintance who is not sexually active. This makes me feel pathetic. I know that losing that status at any time in my prior attempts at relationships would have been a disaster-- hindsight's nice like that--but I still feel like a child. I'm not NOT doing it for moral or religious or health or any other kind of reasons. I have no excuse. I don't want to rush it, but REALLY. I'm going to be 18 in a few months; this is pitiful.

J spent the night in jail for drug possession. Apparently people are pretty sketchy and the food sucks.

R is really good to me. Better than I could have predicted. Practically perfect in every...anyway. I'm worried. It is becoming more and more obvious that I am going to HAVE to tell my mother. I don't want her to freak out or feel like I've betrayed her trust. There are two directions in which that conversation could turn: one with the outcome I pray for, and the other as a screaming fight involving awkward questions about sexual motives and why he would want to date someone so far out of his age range. And yes, 5 years is not so much in most circumstances, but it's different! She's in high school!

It's not different. He cares about me. This is the first time someone has really cared about me like this, and if she destroys it...I will never forgive her.

On a lighter note, Hail to the Thief and Kid A are fantastic. This brings my Radiohead album rankings to:

1. Hail to the Thief
2. In Rainbows
3. Kid A
4. The Bends
5. OK Computer
6. Amnesiac
7. Pablo Honey

God knows that'll change by next Thursday. I wonder what else will.

as a pool of water.

I wish I could get all of my thoughts out of my head and format them like music files into something beautiful. I feel like every idea I have sits idle and heavy in my mind like an m4a that will not play on Windows Media Player or Samsung Media Studio or anything, really, and I don't have the skill to convert it.

I'm toying with the idea of attempting to write again. I haven't written since my passion died in "Creative Writing" last year, at least not seriously. I feel like I could; I keep getting little flashes of images that make me feel like not such a failure as a writer.

I get like this sometimes. It's a mental block, and it really annoys me. My workload in my classes is a little too much to handle at the moment, and with upcoming performances and Spring Youth looming over me, drooling like the monsters under the bed in Calvin and Hobbes, it's like trying to sprint through caramel carrying a cow on my back.

Frustration is an understatement.

But he sends me cute text messages, so most days I figure I'll be okay. :]

in my head.

today I sat and smoked myself to cancer

thinking about the dancer at the bar

well, how was I to know that a crush could just implode

til it became a grudge eclipsing every star

and yes, I know my addictions run the gamut

the drugs, the smokes, the booze, the 24

but you can't make the turkey colder or skew me less bipolar

let me list the things about you I abhor

horrible, you're so easy, talk sleazy

you led me off the plank and left me queasy

and that is why you can't rock my world

you swore that you were taken when I met you

but yes, you did undress me from afar
a gentle concubine, you skip amongst the mines
just a product of the endless, empty grind

you lack the curves that prove a proper lady
a slender slave with sluttish, sleepy eyes
though once I was emoting and Bono-lyric quoting
I have found another, be my guest and die

starry eyes, she's warm-glancing, entrancing
and now I'm through with all your sick, sad ranting
and that is why you can't rock my world

I've lost you and now I glide through the silky sky

it's so blue and you're just old news that is why

so screwed, cadaver gone blue, this has died

your machine has grown gangrene

and now I see right through your lies

with ripe wonder, I plunder the village

now that I know I've become her

and that is why you can't rock my

that is why, that is why you'll never ever

in a goddamn millennium

be my girl

I watch frozen stars on the way home

I watch frozen stars on the way back home

I watch frozen stars on the way home

I watch frozen stars burn out on the way back home.

--"that is why" by say anything

no one reads this but me.

I think that's alright though. This particular blog is really just a way to sort out what exactly I'm feeling right now.

Right now, I'm listening to a few of the songs off of Line in the Sand, Zox's new album and reminiscing. I'm a little sad, a little embarassed, a little contemplative.

I don't think I was an idiot to care about him. I knew it wouldn't and couldn't work; I'm not that naive girl chasing the impossible. I spent months wanting him so badly--but I never became a burden on him. I didn't call him. Ever. I gave him space and respect and understanding.

And see? I gave him space whenever he seemed like he needed it, but he came back to me again and again. There was a period of time during the summer when I talked to him online for at least a couple hours every night.

Then there was all that drama. Love, and my age, and professionalism. That was a bad time. I felt angry and sad and childish and stupid...but he came back again eventually, though not in the same way.

Friends with benefits is not a good thing to be in the long term. And by the way, he did a terribly good job being a typical guy. Not that I was making the best decisions, but he pretended at least a little to care about me--and hadn't we had that discussion about leading people on just a few months before?

Turns out he doesn't care. She called him that night when I was staying over with her and told him that she thought he was falling for me. He apparently said that anonymous parties were attempting to convince him to start a relationship with me. A real relationship.

Don't think I was excited about that. I was apprehensive and unsure of my feelings on that topic, but I still wanted to talk to him about it.

But then he stopped talking. Seems odd for a person who once told me that I understood him better than most people.

I mulled over possible reasons for the silence, then decided that it wasn't up to me to interpret. I gave him space...as usual. He continues to take this space. A month and a half of space and silence.

I guess he doesn't want to come back this time, though I desperately wish he would, if only to explain why. He never did talk about his feelings much.

You introduced me to this song and it was so beautiful, but it tore me apart. You apologized for the lyrics once, but they didn't hurt any less then, and they don't hurt any less now.

"and if we started all over today

I think we know that we'd end up in the same place

maybe you're right and we've got nothing to say

I wanna hear it anyway."

please.

don't judge me for how I feel.

every breath stings

in the cold near-winter air.

congestion, too fun.

anachronistic tendencies.

99cent art in unusable formats.

a blanket, a warm drink.

clench tense shoulders, then relax.

transcend the stress.

rise in curls like the smoke from your incense.

listing is easier than writing.

What I love:
The Future Kings of Nowhere
88.1 WKNC (NC State)
sleep
venti iced mocha with whipped cream
classic Christmas music
Gateway computer
black leggings
comforter
hugs and kisses

What I hate:
Huck Finn
homework
the chorus guys
AP Environmental Science
girls who try to sing Mariah Carey
clunky heels
eggs
T-Pain
that 93.9 is going to stop playing Christmas music on Dec. 26