Drive Myself to Madness

They say the only person who will ever truly understand me is me. I'm the only one who has seen everything I've seen, done everything I've done, tried everything I've tried. Nobody else will ever fully comprehend my thoughts, my actions, and the interaction between the two.

The scary part is that I don't know myself at all.

I do things that I never thought I would--or could--do, and then I either regret it or sit in amazement, or both. My thoughts run wild on subjects that I never deemed possible to ponder and I feel sick, sick to the core when I realize that I actually have considered some of the things I've considered.

This is how everyone feels at some point in their life, they say. Everybody goes through this. We all feel lost and confused and detached from our own selves.

Well, I don't believe that. Not for one second. I'm sure I'm not the only one to feel this way, but there are people out there who are ignorant enough to never question who they are or where they stand. Never once will they doubt their identity, their inheritance, their capabilities, or their future.

I, however, am currently questioning them all. Everything about me--right down to what I'll eat for breakfast in the morning--is up for debate, because I cannot make up my mind. Abby Morgan, mastermind decision-maker and director of her life path, is completely and totally incapable of making any kind of choice right now.

It's pathetic, and really, really irritating. I want to just exist. I want to be who I am, because in all honesty, that's the only thing I'm good at.

No, I lied. The one thing I'm good at is faking it. And I must say, I do a damn good job at pretending like I know who I am. So good, in fact, that I've actually begun to believe myself.

Which scares me even more than feeling lost.

What Did We Do?

Another violent storm has shaken my hometown. Trees on the median of the main road are flattened and shingles from my roof are torn away.

A tornado warning rocked us all tonight, causing hundreds of mallgoers to flock to the Panera where I work. We're the safest place in the mall, see, and we conveniently sell wonderful food...

But what did we do? We've had awful weather since the beginning of June. Storm after storm sends families into their basements and the rain just keeps pouring. Makes me wonder what the hell we simple humans could have done to deserve it.

Or maybe... Well, maybe we did nothing wrong. Maybe it's not a punishment.

Maybe it's just another unprovoked, unwarranted, unlucky event. As usual.

Blue is the New Black

I miss it all tonight.

The smile in the moon seems rather dim. Spotlights on my heavy heart are too bright, too bold, too ignorant, and my patience with them is wearing thin.

Sketch my profile into the book of lost causes. Paint my eyes on a page of the deepest heavens and hells.

Make me into something I am and I am not.

Someone ought to remember this. Someone ought to know this by heart. But I've never been one for memory, and my heart cannot think for itself. Someday we'll all understand, you say. Someday it will all be clear. But I will not wait.

The air is thick with implications and expectations, my lungs gasping and choking on injustice. What we deserve and what we have will never be the same; what we want and what we need will never coincide, either.

I miss it all tonight. I think, though, that what I'm really missing, most of all, is myself.

Spin Me Faster, Faster

Please
Don't be my shelter
Or my sanctuary
I'd rather die a thousand deaths than rely on you
Independent and defensive
I walk this road alone.

Please
Don't take my hand
Or guide me
Nothing makes me angrier than weakness
Mine or yours
I walk this road alone.

Please
Don't make me smile
Or laugh
It's only raging salt on glass-torn memories
Then and now
I walk this road alone.

Please
Don't listen to anything I say
Or follow my instructions
I'm just cold, bitter, unfeeling
Broken, yet steadfast
I can't walk this road alone.

The Bed You've Made--Lesson #21.

Sleep where your lies lie.

Don't dance when nobody's watching. Wait until they're paying attention, and maybe you'll inspire someone to join you.

"New and improved" is not always "better for you."

Needs and wants are separate entities. Learn which are which before you start to seek them.

It's not healthy to take big, inexplicable risks every now and then. But it is fun.

Being yourself means faking it sometimes.

The things you say you'd never do end up as the ones you most happily anticipate.

Clichés only work on an ignorant audience. And advice is more heartfelt when it's not prophetic.

If you find the words difficult to say, you're either saying it wrong or saying too much.

Using the word "flipside" in everyday vocabulary is utterly absurd.

And finally: People only share what they've learned about life because they want to come to terms with mistakes. That doesn't always mean that the mistakes were their own.

YAY!

Although the desktop is rather empty and my files have yet to be uploaded, I am extremely content to say that my computer is safe at home.

In fact, I'm blogging from it right now. How beautiful.

Anyway, figured somebody out there might care. I'm off to work until 10.

Catch you on the flipside [lol Cassie you're ridiculous]. :]

Insert Foul Words Here [Sprinkled With Enthusiasm for the Good Stuff]

I still don't have my home computer back, and it's killing me. Being separated from this blog--as well as the Internet in general--is quite literally driving me mad. My grandparents are the most generous people in the world, as far as I'm concerned, so I'm blogging from their computer yet again.

It's not that I need to go on Facebook or Myspace or any of that crap. I don't even need to "surf the Web," or whatever that may entail. No, I just want to be able to remember what it feels like to actually communicate with people via email. Oh, and I'd like to be able to vent my frustrations and celebrate my exciting news on the blog, too.

Is that too much to ask?

Anyway, they'll get our computer back eventually. Whether or not they're able to salvage my important documents and music is still up in the air, though.

For now, summer is in full swing. I spend every waking moment with my sisters, and we've been successful so far in not getting into too much trouble. ;] Boys, of course, are an ongoing problem, but I seriously don't see that changing anytime soon.

My work schedule has not substantially increased in number of hours, so I'm pretty much broke.

Summer homework, I'm afraid to say, is just one of those far-off visions at this point. Will I finish everything? Definitely. Will I enjoy it? Most likely not.

Oh, and I just finished reading My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult. I almost cried at the end. Kudos, Picoult, for that, considering that it takes a lot to get me to cry like that.

And writing is a disaster. My laptop, full of once-begun stories just waiting to be told, sits locked in its case on my very untidy bedroom floor. Bad. Very bad.

Who knows? Maybe this means a flood of creativity is about to come my way. Or maybe I'm just slowing becoming more and more of an idiot.

Hmm. What's scary is that the latter sounds a little bit more accurate.

Healing and Destroying

Every time a door opens, another closes, they say. So cliché. I prefer to stay away from the overused phrases, you know? Can't always avoid them, but I sure can try.

So here's my variation of the classic: Every time an old wound is stitched, a new one is torn wide open.

I look around me, and I see the ones who loved you--the ones you hurt--coming to terms with what you've done. They're finally seeming whole again. Smiles come more easily to their faces; hope radiates from them in a way I haven't seen in a long, long time.

These changes, among the other little things I've noticed, make me happy enough to cry.

But there is a storm on the horizon that I can scarcely comprehend. The economy around me hangs precariously balanced between surviving and dying, threatening to steal a beloved uncle, aunt, and cousins from me, with potentially hundreds of miles in between us. My rapidly changing world won't slow down long enough to allow me to catch my grasp on reality, leaving me lost and in the dark to all that whirls and twirls around me. The final year of high school approaches, and I've yet to make any decisions concerning my future...

If you cannot taste my confusion, cannot empathize with what I feel, then you are either cold in a grave or lacking a soul.

If the first, I am sorry for the loss. If the second, I should wish that you keep yourself as far from me as possible.

Caution: This Post Will Waste Your Life.

Still no home computer. I'm at my dad's.

I also have peanut butter stuck to every single one of my teeth and the roof of my mouth. I gave up on eating jelly with peanut butter about two years ago--too much effort, too messy, too sweet--so now I just eat PB on bread. Definitely my favorite food in the world, tied with chocolate and followed closely by hummus.

I really don't have anything enthralling to post here, I suppose. Other than my excitement at being able to use a computer, life is pretty much boring. I worked yesterday 4-10... work tomorrow 3-7... work the rest of the summer...

Hmm.

Oh! Haircut. I got three inches taken off my hair again. It now just brushes my shoulders, which makes me happy and yet mildly insane. It's great for summer, of course, what with my hair being incredibly thick and difficult to persuade, but I also can't really wear it straight without a battle ensuing.

Curly? No problem. Bring on the humidity; it'll only help me out. Straight? Eek...

Umm.

WRITING! I almost forgot. I've done so much writing these past few days that I actually feel like I've accomplished something. Heiress is taking a more mature turn--finally--and Common [separate series...if it ever becomes a series...] has gotten some of the attention it deserves. I wrote a short piece and few poems, too, but those were terrible, as usual.

Lol. I may have perfected the art of self-deprecation. How charming.

I also began and quickly terminated two new stories. The idea for one of them will eventually coincide with Paul's Island [another separate book that I've restarted three times]. Oh, and I'm desperately trying to come up with a new title for that one. Absolutely terrible. Somewhat humiliating, actually.

What a great post. Makes no point at all. Welcome to the inside of my head, folks. :]

It's About Time, Darn It.

Today was my last day of school for the year [thank god]. I didn't think these 180 days would go by so quickly, but apparently I'm luckier than I thought...

Anyway, it's over. My junior year is complete. One more year of this and I'll be free. :]

Oh, and by the way, still no computer. I'm posting from my laptop right now, a feat that is almost impossible, considering that this thing doesn't have an Internet connection. If I explained it to you, I'd have to kill you. Don't expect any real posts for awhile.

But school is done, my exams are done, it's all done. And hopefully the summer will fly by smoothly and perfectly, as it usually does.

Until I have functioning Internets [lol don't try to understand why that had to be plural], keep living. Eventually my life will be back to normal.

Oh, and ceiling fans. Don't put your hand through one when it's turned on. Got it?

Death of a Computer

My computer crashed, and is now very, very dead, so I won't be posting for awhile from home. Right now I'm at my grandparents' house, taking advantage of their Internet...

Grr. I hate being without my technology. The boredom sets in way too fast.

Happy summer, kids. If you live in southeastern Michigan--like me--I certainly hope you have power. My school's been stuck in the dark the past two days because of those ridiculous storms. And all I want is to end this school year...

Grr.

Catch you all someday later.

Reality Found... and I Don't Like It.

The real world sucks.

If you can come up with a way to counter that, be my guest. I certainly can't, and I'm not just being a pessimist...

Yesterday, I deposited my first two paychecks at the bank and it finally sunk in how much money I don't have. Summer begins for me next Friday, and from here all I can see is work, college stuff, work, scholarship stuff, work, and maybe a little bit of fun.

I'm also trying to plan a spring break trip for next year with Cassie, Kailey, and Pinks. It's crazy. We're not wild partygoers, so Cancun is pretty much out, and the resort we've chosen is in the Riviera Maya. However, in order to be able to go, you have to sell one of your kidneys on the black market...

Oh, and gas prices! One week of working doesn't even fill my gas tank anymore. How am I supposed to get to school? To work? To anywhere? My friends and I decided that there will be much carpooling and much walking this summer. We have no other option.

This reality is terrible. Miserable, in fact. I'm seriously considering picking up a second job, a motion I am reluctant yet driven to make. If I do, I won't have any kind of last summer at all. If I don't, I'll just be broke.

Ick. I want to be five years old.

Answers, Please

Can you tell me what it feels like
To be nothing, nothing, nothing
Nothing but air in lungs
Nothing but words on tongues

Can you tell me what to expect
Because I'm nothing, nothing, nothing
Nothing but a pest on paper
Nothing but everything I shouldn't be

Can you tell me what to do
To stop this nothing, nothing, nothing
Nothing just won't leave me alone
And nothing's the reason I'm this way.

"Daughters Don't Give You Choices."

Thank you, Daymare [Cassie's padre/my co-padre] for so aptly stating the truth. Daughters really don't give their fathers choices, I believe. I mean, I don't boss my father around, but it's pretty common knowledge that a lot of girls know exactly how to melt their fathers...

Little girls are the best examples. I've met very few young girls who weren't bossy to some degree [I know I was definitely a boss], and with their dads it's another whole level. And shockingly enough, even the most "manly" and "tough" fathers cave when their daughters ask them for something.

I'm not entirely sure why this is. Perhaps it's because they see something of their wives in their daughters. Or maybe men just naturally have a soft spot for little girls; I've seen even boys my age talk kindly with small girls, and it damn near shocks me every time.

Or it could be the way "Daddy" slips out at just the right moments...

Absolutely Thrilling.

This week has been ridiculously long. Every morning so far, I've managed to disable my alarm instead of hitting snooze, so I end up finally awake a half hour later than usual. I've spent the majority of my time at other people's homes--namely Maddy's and Kailey's--because there's been so many projects/plans to do/make.

My creative juices have FINALLY gotten their act together, or so it seems, anyway. The constant poetry on here is a rather vibrant indicator of that, I think. But my novels remain untouched; not because I don't or can't want to work on them, but because I honestly haven't had time.

This afternoon was spent at Maddy's, constructing a styrofoam layer cake for a lengthy Trig project [that we twins, Debbie, and Cuaderno have wonderfully conquered]. If I try to explain it to you, there's a high risk that your brain will implode, so let's just stick with saying that we simply "ran with whatever we could come up with."

It does look cool, though. Exactly like a real cake...

Now I'm finishing up an English essay, one that I'm positive will not be receiving great feedback. It quite literally goes nowhere and reaches no point, instead opting to run in circles and repeat the same thing a few times. Sort of makes me nauseous, but I've got nothing left. Nothing. I'm just glad it's almost the end of the school year.

Amazing, isn't it? I can write and write and write my little heart out on this thing, but present me with an unfinished novel or a literary critique and my mind has a detrimental seizure. Amazing.

As soon as I'm done with this--which may not be so soon, seeing as I'm deliberately procrastinating--I have physics to finish, and then I'm putting myself to bed. Kailey volunteered to drive tomorrow, so I technically don't have to "wake up" until we pull into the school parking lot. It's a great feeling. :]

And what will the weekend bring? No idea. Well, I'm working on Sunday, and going to a fundraiser for awhile on Saturday, but other than that I'm clueless. Hopefully there's a chance to sleep in waiting on the horizon...

Ah, sleep. Don't really remember what that feels like. Or how it feels to socialize, either.

Time with friends? What?

To the End of the World

Maybe you'll find that I'm the safest place
Seek shelter right behind my burning eyes
Someday we'll make the patient mountains pace

As tears of bafflement stream down my face
The pleading crowds stare helpless at the wise
Maybe you'll find that I'm the safest place.

My shallow, bleeding heart begins to race
The temperatures and tempers start to rise
Someday we'll make the patient mountains pace.

With secrets kept within a bolted case
A solitary figure turns and sighs
Maybe you'll find that I'm the safest place.

The narrow, bending path that I will trace
Will lead us both to where the moonlight dies
Someday we'll make the patient mountains pace.

Dreaming of seas and clouds lined with white lace
The sun will set forever for black skies
Maybe I'll find that it's the safest place
Someday we'll make these patient mountains pace.

Advertising Agony

Of the many commercials I absolutely despise, one in particular stands out whenever I take the time to consider it. Every single time it flashes on the screen I just about cry because it makes no sense whatsoever.

I'd be willing to bet that it irritates other people, too. Cassie was the one who first pointed it out to me, so I know she's in on the loathing...

It's the Cialis commercial with the two naked people sitting in separate bathtubs on a cliff.

ARGH. Seriously! For one, who the hell sits in bathtubs on cliffs? How did they get the bathtubs there? Why did they put the bathtubs there? And what would prompt them to sit naked on top of a cliff anyway?

Oh, and my favorite question, the one I still don't quite get: How exactly do you go about having sex in separate bathtubs??

You know what? I don't want to know the answer to that. Too graphic for me. Too... No. No, I don't want to know.

Half Past One on One

It's me versus the alibi
Hold your breath, and take me down
Somebody should be screaming
I'll pick the worst of two roads
And I'll bend the fork that binds them
Reflections in shallow spoons
Shallow pools
So much to see in such a short time

Your words wash over me
Cleansing and destructive
Steel wool on marshmallow
Step toward me, scared
Afraid to be awkward here
Eyes scan, left to right to left
And I'm waiting for your advance
Smile and wave, they said
Smile and wave

How are you? It's the worst
Possible question to ask
Because it always gets deceit for a reply
"Fine" works just fine
We'll both use that and skip
The formalities entirely
Save your breath, and take me down
Somebody should be screaming
But no soul dares speak

It's me versus the lies
And I've never been too clever.

Untraceable

Follow me into the light
Where I'll disappear
And you'll be left alone.
You can't catch me now.

I've been fighting it
And there's a greatness there
But there's also dark.
You won't find me now.

Intentionally puzzling
Makes me feel awful
And wrecks your world.
You can't hide your thoughts.

So I'm sorry, terribly
Sorry you're a part of this.
Remind me not to reach out
Or you won't be the same.