Reggae?

I'm such a cliche, smoking weed and listening to Bob Marley...I'm going to remember today forever. It's been a reminder of the past and a promise of the future.
It's only in San Diego that your Advanced Biology teacher wears a rasta belt and plays reggae. The culture here is so unique and amazing, I'm gonna miss it....
I've always liked reggae, since I was 5 years old listening to Mandatory Marley on 91X. I even had a Reggae for Kids tape that I listened to over and over again.
I really wish I was raised in a specific culture, because I was raised in so many conflicting cultures that I don't know where I belong; I should just pick one.
If you type in F on youtube it gives you something funnier than the other letters.
And I just realised that our culture is comprised of a bunch of fakes.
And why does everything make more sense when I talk like Yoda? I kinda forget what it's like to be sober, it's like one giant dream.
And M will give you the most random things.
I really can't express how ridiculously (I can't believe I spelled that right being this high) bad that Rebecca Black videos is.
I've discovered that rich kids have this favorite past-time of making dumb music videos.

Don't Forget Me When You Die

Just now have I realised that I've been left behind.
All of my friends went on to be something, anything from actors to scene queens.
But what have I done?
Note much, not nearly enough.

La La Love

I'm bad luck, because everyone drifts away, and all roads lead to Satan's house.
I remember when all the trouble started, but everything feels so right now.
Lady of the cusp between spring and summer.
And I've become the means of a documentary about this strange reality.
Where are we?
I have a feeling that being high gives us less control of destiny.
Hold your tongue, they're starting to get it.
Forgotten things from long ago, I really wish I didn't know.
Is it the sane or devious one this time?
It's all about the ebb and flow.

More Adventures

Maybe I have ADD, or maybe I have multiple personality disorder; which induces ADD.
I'm so far gone, that everything blends together.
I can't believe that there's a Japanese culture club, and that the majority of its members are white males. But that's the name that the anime club got changed to when Fanny left.
And my sensations of waking up are really my personalities switching, The Many Adventures of The Few Bunnies.
100% proof whiskey sends fire down my throat into my stomach.

Random Shit From My Adventures

There are a lot of things that I regret. Like when my mom refused to sign my application for school organizations, I got angry and tore up the application.
Now I'm suffering for the past, but that's okay I'm leaving.
I feel old again, "Back in my day it was punk bands that played at the warped tour" (comments on the hardcore bands that now play on the tour)
And I feel like I'm swimming in a fish tank of grey clouds. Like the sky is pressing down on the earth. And it's funny how certain people re-emerge after long absences.
And I wish that I was in Italy eating puttanesca and drinking grappa in my espresso.
Here I am, ranting....again.
Why is it that the first time that I legitimately vandalize something, that a bitter old lady takes it down (it was a sticker)
And why is it that days like this can go from crappy to perfect (in the most basic sense of the word)
There's a million different shades of green in the grass and trees, I wish I could stay here forever.

Thoughts About Something

I think they're trying too hard.
It's like they sunk from pleasant flashbacks into a literal dark hole.
Really, what now?
Another pointless bout of depression I presume.
I swear I'm hallucinating all these demons out of my own head.
Maybe it's loneliness, or maybe I'm not alone enough.

Fatally Yours

"Well, if it's okay I'll just grab my shit and leave. I won't say one word, I'll keep my tricks up my sleeve. You flew off the handle, opened fire on me. Put me down, put me out of my misery. I'm fatally yours."
Today....
Today was just fine.
But it couldn't be.
This house is chaos.
And what's more?
Oh, Lord, what could it be?
On these days that I ramble incoherently.
I was sitting alone, reading.
Satan came and stood over me, I waved up to him.
He nudged me with his foot, so I poked him; this went on for a few minutes.
"How are you?" I asked.
He told me this story about how a few days ago he and one of his friends were laughing about me while they were on shrooms.
Mmmm, he really shouldn't have said that.
I found that dark place within myself when he said that.
That girl who moved on, who just doesn't give a shit was standing there and telling me to stay calm.
So I did, Ivy was shocked.
"I'm glad you found it amusing," I managed to reply with the biggest smile.
I began muttering about poetic injustice and illiteracy, with wide eyes and a big grin.
He had no idea what I was talking about, I kept saying, "I'm sure."
And being generally pretentious.
I can do that, because I was wearing pink lipstick, because my curls were falling down my back, because my ass looked good in those jeans, because he interrupted my reading; mostly just because he's screwed me over so many goddamn times, I reserve the right to smile real big and act completely pretentious.
He said that he had to leave to meet his girlfriend and skated away.
I exploded in frustration, yelling about "Why can't he just leave me the fuck alone?!"
My friend told me to speak in gibberish, 'cause it would make me feel better; it did.
I left with Ivy, we talked until we got to my house.
This is where you find me now, in the midst of chaos.

Go Ride The Ferris Wheel On A Day Like This

They're just like kids, they're playing a game; I miss that kind of shit, collaborative play-time.

Anyway, "they're talking to you, bunny babe."

They're asking me if I'm alright, asking me if I'm having fun.

I truthfully am, even cross-faded remembering the past.

I feel sick and time is swirling around me.

This is testimony to the fact that I'm merely the type of person who is better off on their own.

All this makes me want to drop to my knees and cry, "Save me, save me!" It's terrible, but I'm still waiting for someone to save me and change my reality.

I'm still waiting for someone to make my life worth living, and even that goddamn fortune teller told me that. It's like this, it's always....oh, god.

She asked me the question I dreaded, so I made the decision.
It was difficult for me, but I defied both awful outcomes; and in this one moment I've grown so much.
She always says the things in my mind, the things I'd never utter in the open space.

I wouldn't let them float on the air, to hang there dead and stale.

They're covered by the cobwebs in my mind.

And then he appeared like he always does.

It's clockwork, ticking with time.

And everyone knows everyone else too goddamn well.

Oh, well, I guess.

But here the adventure is over for today.

Meander Through Melancholy

I cannot believe I'm crossfaded alone, listening to beethoven.
And of course every person who says that they care is nowhere to be found, but this shit happens; doesn't it.
People just disappear and I can't even bring myself to write anymore than this.
What's gone and happened now?
The ode to joy is surrounding me, I'm floating in it; high above the rain clouds.
"It's better if you don't feel a fucking thing, fall asleep. And I wanted you to know it was you that we were thinking of, as we quietly died in the snow."
I used to be an avid protagonist, I'm not these days.
These days no matter how much sun shines on the world, the air is still cold.
It's tumultuous out there, but in here it's still.
The air hasn't moved in years, it's dead silence.
There's a whisper in the wind, the past calls me to pay the debt.
Here I have become the main antagonist in this twisted world.
And I suppose that I started taking drugs as an excuse for my insanity.
Like I was already crazy, so I started taking drugs so now I'd have an excuse.
It's severely self-destructive.
I should talk about how all these novels, movies, and experiences have helped me grow.
But really what I've learned is that everything is based on perception and the decisions that you make because of the way that you perceive things.
Once in awhile my vision clears and I have the strange sensation of waking up.
The air feels fresh in my lungs and I take heaping gulps of it.
My visions clears and everything is bright.
I have some wonderful realization, for a few moments I believe that everything will make itself right without my help.
This is untrue, I know it, it's clearer than the stars in the mountains.
I feel like I'm always waiting for something, though I can never say what it is.
I'm sure that I'll know when it comes, it'll be the light that leads me home.
I remember about a year ago, the last day of my Sophmore year, we were all skipping down the street.
The Shadow King was saying something like, "I can't believe that we're Seniors now, that next year is our last year of highschool."
I'm a year younger than them, they're leaving.
And what am I going to do without my faithful Shadow King by my side?
I can't even fathom.
There's something I should say, with fear of betraying Ivy.
I'm sure that fear is misplaced, it's not betrayal that lies here.
I've been talking to M a lot, I told him that I'd read a short story that he wrote.
Why?
Because it's difficult to find people who are on a remotely similar wavelength as I am.
When I find people who are, I tend to converse with them more often.
I feel bad though, because he is Ivy's ex.
I've said it and I feel much better now.
Anyway, I smoke too many goddamn cigarettes.

The Other Day

I don't want to throw myself a pity party, but I seriously can't believe that my friends are complaining about their lives when I come home to no food in the house and my parents threatening each other with violence.
It's weird, I guess being uncommonly pretty (the key word being uncommonly, as in: pretty in an uncommon way), and odd isn't the best combination.
It tends to incite misfortune.
I shouldn't worry so much, I'll figure everything out eventually.
Just do your best and fuck the rest.
Everyone thinks that The Jester has feelings for me; I wouldn't doubt it, he won't admit it.
So the Seniors are obviously graduating, and it's sad.
There's no other way to put it, because everything that I've grown accustomed to is about to end.
So, something completely unrelated....
Total Body Paralysis.
Yep, well I get this feeling sometimes of not being able to breathe, see, or move.
Suddenly my vision goes black, my limbs don't respond, and I forget how to breathe.
It's like forgetting where I am, or even that I'm alive.
Like there's no connection between external stimuli and my brain.
"No one could tell, even if I fell one hundred stories down."
I have a lot of insecurities, especially about my friends.
I don't belong with any of them, I always feel like I'm intruding upon someone else's life.
I've stolen these moments from Heaven.
And about My Southern Boy (just because it's been bothering me), you'd think that if he missed me like he claimed or if he was as lonely as he said, that he'd talk to me more.
Anyway, I should write a book on flirting, I think it'd be fun.

I'll Take My Time, Well Now It's Time To Go

My mom is pretty childish.
Exhibit A:
I said, "I love my cat."
She replied, "But he's my cat, they're all my cats."
I'm completely serious when I say that she has the mentality of a seven year old.
My step-dad too, he tries to beat up every guy that I talk to; he's somewhat of a delinquent in general.
We all have developmental problems, I'm sure.
Oh, anyway, I've been trying to write for a few days now, but I'm extremely brain-dead after a month of rigorous testing.
I hang out with The Crew (Satan's ex-friends), or at least what's left of them.
It's been interesting, and you hardly ever see the entire group in the same place anymore.
After they graduated the group disbanded, I'm going to use letters instead of names here.
But normally it's just M and C from the original group, though they've added more people so that it's different entirely.
Ivy always says how sad it is that there is no Crew anymore, because "we were part of it."
I guess we were in a way; she was because she was dating M, and I was because of her and Satan.
It's funny though, I was never an official part of the group.
Now I've gotten in on my own, but it's a far cry from what it used to be.
The entire Crew and whatever girl Satan was interested in at the moment would go cram into his tiny room to smoke weed.
They taught me to use a butterfly knife and we used to smoke out of Satan's red plastic bong.
When they all dropped out and he got his card The Crew split into two different groups.
Satan and a couple of other annoying people, and then M and a couple of new people; the rest of them went their own ways.
Hanging out with them would characterize pretty much all of my Sophmore year, surprisingly I don't miss it.

Friday- May, 13

I'm bored and delsuional, I guess....but "it's a-okay if it makes you feel alright"
Well, I guess this is what happens when you smoke weed.
I miss those days, days so far away.
Boys are so dumb.
Another radom boy or two, and the boy with green eyes.
Flirting is a good way to assuage boredom.
And Satan skating off into the sunset...

Silver Screens Don't Always Have A Silver Lining

What can I say?
I sometimes go visit my Math Teacher from last year.
I was in his room today and my Physics Teacher from Freshman year walked in, talking about some kid ditching class.
The Math Teacher replied something like, 'he's so smart, if we could just help him.'
The Physics Teacher leaves and I say, "It's always the smart ones"
He agreed with me and then said, "Yeah, you and your alcohol last year. We'll just call it the incident."
It's funny 'cause he was like that too in highschool, that's probably why I still visit him.
He said, "But I never got caught," he laughed.
I almost said something about depression, but I stopped myself; I left.
Me and my incidents, they play out like they should be on the Lifetime Movie Network.
If my life was a movie I'd want it to be on IFC or Sundance.
I'd want to be one of those artsy independent films.
I have issues....
A boy with green eyes once said to me, "Yeah, but you don't have trouble talking."
He thought he knew me, he still has no idea.
I'm trying....I made the first step today.
I opened up to a friend of mine.
There was this one time that I got in a fight with my mom and I was bleeding on my pink sweater, and I ran down the hall to his door.
It was around seven in the evening, I held back tears long enough for him to open the door.
He talked to me for over two hours, he gave me chocolate cake and red wine in a Disney cup.
The next day I dropped off every journal that I've had since 8th grade on his doorstep.
He never read them.
We're still close, but I've gradually lost faith in him.
Once in awhile he tells me that he wants to be with me.
If he truly does, then I wonder if he knows that this is his last chance.

Sex and Lies in San Diego

Hmmm, it's just something that I have to say....to no one in particular.
I'm a pathological liar, but I have my reasons.
No one needs to know what's really gone on in my life.
I'm hiding the bad, the not so good and everything in-between.
Some of the lies were to cover up other lies, some of them were to cover up the sad or scandalous truth.
Now my entire life is one big lie.
And no one will ever know.
It's true that you have to acknowledge the past before you can forget it.
I've just recently began to unearth all the things I've buried, it's been a long process.
I used to dwell on everything that happened between Satan and me, because I was trying to distract myself from everything else.
I lost my virginity in a hotel room, not to Satan, not even to a guy that I liked.
I lost my virginity to a guy who was almost thirty.
I just layed there, stoned out of my mind, listening to some angsty punk music that I put on just so that it wasn't quiet.
I've felt terrible since then.
I've felt terrible since I screwed that twenty-five year old on his living room floor, I've felt terrible since I let Satan guilt-trip me into giving him head; I've felt terrible for a long time, about a lot of different things.
But truth is that you can't change the past.
I wanted one goddamn person to love me, just one.
One person who is always there for me, who helps me grow without criticizing me, someone understanding, who I'm happy to see.
I don't believe in love anymore, I'm not the person I used to be.
I'm not innocent, sweet, kind, or anything like that; I can't be.
I've been ridiculed by my peers my entire life.
When I'd go to birthday parties or even at my own birthday parties I was always an outcast.
Always crying, when I turned nine all my friends locked themselves in my room and wouldn't let me in.
When I turned six my cousins completely ignored me at my birthday party.
I had no friends in fourth and part of fifth grade, because I went to a rich school and I was socially awkward.
Because I had never gone to a school for more than a year and half the time I didn't go to school at all.
I sat under this big tree and read during recess, I convinced myself that books like Harry Potter and Lord of The Rings were real.
I escaped into my own delusions.
A shrink once told my parents that I lived in a fantasy world, it was true.
My mom criticized me for this, and she criticized me for everything else.
Why didn't I tell the shrink this, the court mediator that, my dad something, and why did I do anything.
Why was I even breathing?
My mom used to ground me from reading and writing, I don't remember why she ever grounded me.
I didn't have chores or anything, and I was too young to do anything bad.
My grandmother was always my only friend.
So what happened when I couldn't see her or after she died?
Well, with no father and a crazy mother I did what any teenage girl would do.
I went and found some boy to love me.
And when he screwed me over I found another one, and when I got sick of it I popped pills.
I thought my step-dad was gonna save me, because he couldn't stand living with my mom.
He said he was gonna take me with him, he's been saying that since I was twelve.
I'm seventeen now; they're still together, still unhappy.
I thought Satan was gonna save me, because he was like me.
He had been screwed over by parents and girls, and we were so good together.
Like we just belonged, it felt right.
My step-dad (who I thought I could trust) messed that up, but I don't think Satan could've saved me anyway.
You have to save yourself, no one else can.
It always goes this way, I hope it gets better though.
Everytime my mom talks about my future I have to hold back my thoughts.
I don't know how to tell her that what she wants is impossible, and that she's partially to blame for it.
I mostly just feel sorry for my mother, because she'll never really open her mind to anything.
She will live off her regrets, and the memory of people who have wronged her.
She will spew liberal political propaganda onto anyone willing to listen, and she will shut out the words of her only child....because she doesn't want to accept that her daughter is different than she wanted her to be.
Life isn't a novel, so I won't quote any novels; but it's pretty damn close, so I'll quote myself.
"Everything changes, nothing stays the same forever, you get through it one way or another, so just don't cry, don't you dare cry."
And I swear I won't cry, I'll never cry about the past again.

Books, Books, Books

Chloe doe
The hours
Every last one- anna quindlen
Compound
Sonia rodriguez
Religion in a free society- hook
The crucible
Catcher in the rye
Saint iggy
Koolaid acid test
Dave edgars
Don quixote
100 years of solitude
Ken robinson
Gabriel garcia

Awhile Ago

I'm pretty much drinking myself to death, but that's okay.
Today I ditched, I needed a break.
I got cross-faded and went on an adventure, I popped a tire.
Two hippie lesbians gave me a ride back to the Library where my friends hang out, I gave them a bud.
I smoked with some of Satan's ex-friends, it was fun.
Ivy just broke up with her boyfriend, so I hung out with her for the first time in months.
I've been hanging out a lot with her recently.
I seem to be hanging out with Satan's ex-friends a lot lately too.
Anyway, 420 was awesome and la dee da, I guess.
Idk, all I ever do these days is smoke weed and go on weird adventures.

Birthday Goodies

So let's go over what exactly happened this weekend.
Catwoman and I went to The Jester's house, smoked some weed and ate cannabis muffins.
We went to Ivy's friend's house, sat there aimlessly.
Ivy's friend's dad kinda kicked us out, because he thought that we were smoking weed.
The three of us were the only people in that house that hadn't smoked on the premises.
Their house reminded me of 50s suburbia.
We returned and got money for food from Catwoman's dad, The Jester left.
We accidentally ran into Satan while we were in the Taco Shop.
He walked over to us and asked us what we were doing, we left before he could start a conversation.
We fell asleep watching ghost adventures.
Catwoman and I woke up, went to lay in the sun by the pool, and then went to have adventures at Balboa Park.
I got a Tarot reading, the woman was dead on and it kinda scared me.
She told me I was waiting for love, because I've had a tumultuous childhood.
That there was some specific boy already in my life; that I have a wish for money, but have trouble saving it.
She told me to focus on my future.
We went back to Catwoman's house and I realised that the weekend was ending.
On my way to meet my step-dad out front, we saw Satan.
I get the strange feeling that he wanted to hang out with me.
I have no words for how much I really miss him, need him, wish I was with him.
It's the one thing that still causes me pain, but no.
I didn't even tell him goodbye.

Today

Chillin by the pool and car rides filled with cookie-cutter alternative music. But so far I like the way things have played out.

Ladies and Gentlemen, this is what we call blogging on the go.

Spent the day at Balboa park and took lots of pictures.

It was a wonderful adventure with Catwoman, going to the International houses and all the pretty gardens.

It's been a great weekend, it's been relaxing.

Upon my departure from Catwoman's house, we saw Satan skateboarding down the street.

He stopped and began walking towards us, but just then I realised that my step-dad was across the street.

 "What are you guys doing?" Satan asked.
"Oh, God," I thought.

This had happened before, this same situation was the reason why Satan and I are no longer even on speaking terms.

(Which technically we aren't)

"Well, I'm going home," I replied to him.

He repeated what I said with something reminiscent of a sad, defeated look.

I wish I could've hugged him, talked to him for awhile.

Sometimes life hands you cards that are unlucky, so I crossed the street with my heart sinking.

I got into the car and waved goodbye to Catwoman, and like another cliche I drove into the sunset.