You.

I wish I could tell you every word that goes through my head, but the truth is you don't want to listen. Even when you hear them you don't listen to them. I am a loud and proud young women and despite popular belief, I do mean the things I say.

I'm tired of repeating myself. I'm tired of feeling like an object of whom can be tossed and turned however you please. I'm not a plank of wood, I am a person. And when I'm upset I don't want to be tickled, I want to be caudilled. I want to feel love when the cosplayers get on my last nerve and I want you to support me even if what I say may seem out landish and stupid.

I want the zombie game disc to be out of my ps3, and you to ask before you change the song or radio station. I want you to feel like there's a chance you'll lose me because you've never changed anything before.

I cry and cry and cry... and you make me feel like dirt for starting the argument in the first place. I want to snuggle without fear of being jarred awake by tickling... and I want to trust you with that physical aspect. I want you not to pda in front of my parents or friends because it obviously makes me more uncomfortable then them.

I want to be held when I cry, even if it means your tears in my hair, and I don't ever want to hear just a minute unless you are PHYSICALLY (not virtually) tied to something. I want you to believe that I'm in pain when I'm in pain instead of brushing it off.

I do love you but if I end this rant on a sweet note, I truly believe you won't listen.... so when a girl starts flirting with you and ask you to call her pretty, be aware that right now I will pull her uterus out with my bare hands.

The rabbit won't stop digging, and your cat smells awful. Come make them stop and hold me.

Used. And retarded.

If you knew anything about me, you would know that I think about cosplay more than the healthy human limit. Cosplaying is creating a costume based off of an anime character and then modeling this costume at some event.

It means so much to me... to the point that I allow others to step all over me until I feel like I mean nothing. They use my home as a place they go to when their parents are sick of looking at them... they use it as a place to sleep with other boys/girls... they use my check book for loans and gas for me to drive them repetitively yo their homes... they use my parents for the beautiful work they can do, and eat off our plates without thank yous--- getting to the point that they just expect it.

Believe it or not, all of these are not the reason I'm blog ranting. The reason I am is because now my costume-- my reason for giving all you selfish bastards these things-- is suffering. And you people, even though I helped you out and shed blood and tears and my fucking time on your costumes to try to give you the same high that I feel in my wonderful costumes to try to convert just one of you to do this crazy thing again.... are all suddenly busy.

Now that you have to buy your own meals or you can't sneak behind my back and hook up, now that I have nothing left to give you because you pulled out pieces of my soul and strung it up on the cross like it was Christmas ornaments... now that I snap and cry and am so overwhelmed that my relationship with my boyfriend and my mom are taking the brunt of it... youre no where to be found.

Or when you do come over you sit around doing nothing, visiting like were in fucking high school, using me as a socializing gathering instead of a friend.

I'm here to tell you, that when I ask you to do something, don't respond back that its not your costume, or you're too tired, or you'd rather have a dick up your ass; remember everything I have done for you... the amount that I have cried for your costumes and how great they are because I would not let you take the easy way out.

Grow the fuck up. And write your dumb blog entries because I already posted all the pictures you would ever need.

Hungerrr

Wanna know the most depressing thing ever? I'm actually getting fat and I don't know what to do about it.

Here's the thing. Currently, I am so tired, that my body is feeling pain for me to go to sleep. I get shin splints when I need sleep, and i'm getting those to the point that I can't sleep. I don't think my sleeping has been too horrible. Last night I think I got six hours, before my alarm clock mis-informed about everything-- woke me up.

Could someone record the first episode of SVU of this season for me and send it to me at e-mail address acronymsoup66@hotmail.com? My DVR deleted it. Fuck you DVR.

Damn mis-informed alarm clocks. I would like to exercise. Exercising takes effort though. Maybe I should get myself a trainer so that I have appointments that I can't break... because... i keep breaking all appointments I make with friends. Well I don't even end up making appointments. I just say, you and me need to work out this day, this day, this day, and on that day I don't mention working out and nobody brings it up.

It's almost a good system, if you don't account for the fact I'm still not working out, and I'm still getting larger.

Everything makes me miserable. Today, I was thinking I'm hungry. I think about McDonalds, and then i think about the grease that McDonalds entails. So then I thought about Taco bell, because their stuff isn't fried ergo no grease, but then I thought-- well they don't have coke products... and coke is well-- the only thing that makes me happy and presentable to public people.

After these unhealthy thoughts, I thought well-- I should go to Matt's work and eat something healthy to help with this working out thing that isn't happening. But I didn't want to drive that far by myself, and at this point I was mega by myself. So here's this healthy food, which should make me happier, and I can't get to it because I'm alone.

So then I thought about the mango tea at Ruby Tuesdays. Which is-- also far away-- and five dollars for a drink-- should only be spent on a smoothie. Maybe. Not even on most occasions.

So I'm by myself, and driving, and thinking about all these things in a span of like-- well five minutes. That can't be healthy, huh?

So then I thought maybe subway would be healthy, so i go to stop at subway, and think about how my dad should be home around 3 or 4 o'clock, and then I wouldn't have to eat alone, so i called him and he said he'd try to get home closer to three, because he is indeed hungry too.

And now I want five guys.

And I'm still hungry.

It's this damn song...

Little Lion Man...

"but it was not your fault but mine
and it was your heart on the line
i really fucked it up this time
didn't I, my dear?"

That lyric is almost striking to me. Why? I've been way too incredibly mean lately. 

Here's the truth: Over this past year, i've been bruised and broken too many times.

It's hard for me to straighten out what i'm feeling and what i'm just "reacting" to as my french teacher calls it. People call me out on this, mainly the person I care about. I just want you guys to know that I'm trying, trying my hardest.

I drink more coke then the owner of the coca-cola website.

Lately it's been a lot of impulses. I know i should be studying for any of the many tests/finals i have next week, and even though i spent pretty much the whole night with good friends of mine, I just... feel completely alone. I realize that i'm becoming dependent on that significant other that I was talking about before. Somehow, i trust him to know when i'm just reacting to life, and what i'm feeling. 

So without him... I just feel like a jumbled mass of emotions. I don't know if that makes sense. He's one of the first people I let in... and I keep fucking up... And I keep tucking myself further and further inside.

So here's the true point of this blog article. This guy-- means the world to me-- and he truly is a good guy I think. But what I need for you the reader, is just a little more time to get off my bruised tush.

I keep falling back down on it. Whether this be caused because of things that are or are not under others control. I want to get back to that point where I can hold you guys up... I want to get strong like that... But getting knocked down is a part of it...

I just wish we'd all grow up a little bit. 

i don't know if any of this makes sense. I'm hurting. I'm crying while writing this, and i'm probably just going to get trolled because some of my english was wrong, or i'm too mopey, or sad, or I need to just stop writing all together.

weep for yourself, my man, 
you'll never be what is in your heart
weep little lion man, 
you're not as brave as you were at the start
rate yourself and rape/RAKE yourself, 
take all the courage you have left
wasted on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head
I just wish we'd all grow up a little bit. I need to start talking more. Because every time that I start talking about my own emotions, I freeze up, and then I just end up not saying anything. But it's hard to do that... when you don't know who you can trust, or when the one person you know you can trust unconditionally happens to go to sleep early...

That wasn't meant to sound crazy. I guess I am just a psychotic bitch. I'll stop fucking up now-- right after report cards come out. Sorry mom that I once again failed you.

I don't know what to call this mess

I somewhat wish that my blog wasn't on public so that I didn't have to show anybody my feelings. It seems like right now i suck them inside and just kind of smother them in coal until they go away. This could be distaste for someone, or a love for someone, or just anything all in general gets tucked into the bottom of my bowels and stays there for all eternity.

People are saying that I look unhealthy, but only if they knew how i'm actually feeling.

My french teacher keeps bashing on our English skills and I keep wanting to tell her exactly as the meaning of this blog. It doesn't matter what verbs are used, nor how great the grammar is. However, the words and the meaning of the words are what matters. Who cares if i said i have went to go see my cat vs. i went to see my cat. I certainly don't. You understood the meaning of that passage.

So please, Miss french teacher, stop grading three questions on my test and then giving me an F, when the back was my strong point. At least on the back I didn't have to do the cat questions. I'm in my school lounge as normal right now, and the people around me remind me of highschoolers. Most people remind me that I feel like i'm in high school.

I don't understand drama. I don't understand hating someone because of pure misconceptions. I don't understand why more people are not like that.

I hate the dirty looks i get, and i hate how much i don't care. I hate being cursed out by little sickly looking girls, and I hate how much everyone but me cares.

The kid next to me is sad about love, and i wish i could be. But truth is, the dumb highschoolers have blinded me towards any emotions that i might conceive. Words are shit. Words hurt. People hurt. Why should we talk to them? Wow, that just sounded like a schizophrenic psychopath. I'm surprised i spelled both of those words right.

I do hate my french class though. Seriously. How can you try so hard at something and still fail? It makes me not want to try you know... not want to try at all. I think this is why at the beginning of the semester that I didn't care so much about it. I knew i would fail if i tried. i knew that no tudor in the world could save me. I knew that the teacher would only grade three of my sentences, and I knew that life would get so much worse.

much worse.

Correct english there. We just learned about that in french class too. It doesn't become much worse, it becomes plur or something. Some little name that starts with a P.

Speaking of plur, why can't anybody use it? :/ Peace, love, understanding, respect.

Gai.

My friend told me the other day that whenever I'm upset, that I should write. This guy's known me since I was fourteen, been there when I found myself, and then was there when I found myself again, as well as the umpteenth times I've re-invented myself. I guess that's why I'm writing... to see if it really does make you feel any better... Well, you wouldn't be the correct subject to put in that sentences... I guess... To see if writing makes me feel any better.

It takes a lot to admit that you're not perfect. We say it a million times. We say we're snowflakes, and that we're unique. But are we really? I like to think that I'm different, but i back stabbed my duckling just like everyone else did. I feel like crap about myself, but around her my sanity was dwindling, and dealing with the things that she was saying, was making me exponentially more upset.

I'm trying to cope; truly I am. I went to the dentist and got two stitches put in my gums. That kind of hurt. One of the stitches got ripped out during dinner and that hurt too. The dentist almost gave me the good pain meds (which i already have anyways) because he said they were going to hurt a lot. If only he knew the two root canals in my mouth hurt tenfold more then what any mini surgery I had previously this week.

I want to work on cosplay but yet again, I'm waiting for something to dry. I feel like i'm going to wake up at 4am and not be able to fall asleep and just end up down there, sanding away. That sounds like something I would do. I mean, I bake cupcakes and cookies at four o'clock in the morning so why wouldn't I work on finishing up some wooden guns?

I guess I'm too involved in cosplay because the signifigant other seems to be progressively getting more mad at me for it. I don't know, cosplay is some escape... Some escape that i stabbed my duckling in the back, and i'm only getting four hours a week at work, and i'm failing french steadily. I really am hoping to come home tomorrow and magically my staff head will be done, as well as the little pieces that I can't cut in my guns. Maybe even some of their sanding.

Doubt that one though. Wish I had a cuddle partner for the night. Don't know what kind of else nonsense to write. Just kinda... blabbering on about how pathetic I feel sometimes. :}

Happy... Whatever.

Middle of the night posting

It's 5:30am. Why am I awake? There's too many things going through my mind... mainly cosplay this... cosplay that. I don't really know what I'm thinking about though. My friend told me, that i've been getting so sad lately because I've stopped writing... so I guess this is my attempt to start, since he knows me better than most people I hang out with now.

I don't know why I'm sad... I'm not really sad... kind of indifferent. Things that used to make me cry don't make me cry anymore. I get upset, and i know I'm upset but i show visibly no emotion besides holding onto someone as a type of security blanket keeping me in this world. Did that make sense? I don't know... It's 5:30am.

I guess i'm going to start by writing a little mini letter to a girl that is almost having the same problems as I once had.

You see, six months ago... I was really lost. It wasn't that I flirted with people, just that they took my actions as flirting and I rarely corrected them. It was easier for me to pretend that I didn't exist. It felt like... they weren't permanent, so why should i fix these connections? It took me a while to realize that these semi-permanent friends took me in when I had no-one else without knowing me. Be-friended me and listened to me when there was no one there. And even though they hardly knew my name, they hugged me and held me while I cried.

These people are awesome, because when I did begin to finally find myself and who I think-- because i'm 20 and we change our minds a million times-- i want to be-- and then accept that person.

But now they're not accepting her.

I know her as someone nobody else knows her as. I remember when she had to give a big presentation for the first time in my class. I remember when she passed out in my English class, when I hardly knew her name. I remember my professor telling me to get back to what i was working on, but i couldn't stop touching her, like maybe if i held onto her, she wouldn't further slip away. I remember being so scared that something was seriously wrong.

I know her as the girl who didn't tell me she was too hungry and was going to pass out, and passed out in the basement of a convention with 32,000 people at it. I remember how fast I was running up and down every aisle praying for some solution to the problem. I remember, holding her belongings in full cosplay as my friend carried her up flights of stairs.

She said something the other day... She said she was like a little duck that everyone needed to take care of.

This isn't far from the truth. Every once and a while, we all become that little duck. We all become that person who can hardly live our lives as they spiral out of control. We all need to hold onto someone, if only for comfort, and sometimes we slip and fall and make mistakes and but our burdens on someone else. But that never changes who we are inside.

You see, through all my changes, through all the situations that brought me to the self awareness that I am at now, I still protect my friends with everything inside of me. I still fight for them. I still try my hardest to show up at their houses in the middle of the night if there's even a hint of them needing me. I'm still sympathetic to depression and suicide, and i'm still the girl who's talked so many people away from an invisible ledge. That's something to be proud of.

I don't stand high enough at the center of the friend circle to be able to sway opinions of my little lost duckling, however, I ask you this. Remember that time that you stumbled and fell, remember that person that you put a little too much weight on. Apologize to that person, and then remember that everyone has those people, and it's not a bad thing necessarily but the worst thing you can do, is to kick these people while they're already down.

I can't imagine what life would be like without all of the people that I have in it. And if I can do anything about it, I will give every thing that I have in life, including my own bodily essence to save practically anyone else. That's who I am. Now let's figure out who you are.

Going in a complete opposite direction... It's sad to watch the ways that some of the people have gone down after high school. I used to think that these people had so much potential, and now it's wasted in things like drugs and alcohol and all i want to say to them is "not cool."

I don't know whatever made it cool, parsay. I'm at least starting to get tired now by getting all of this off my chest.

My cosplay blog is mightily failing. It's sad. I want a cosplay group. Is it especially weird that I want some one that I can pose with specifically? Either that or to be singled out like Yuna normally is... I don't know. As of right now I have the entire trio from X-2, but how long will that last before we're all torn to pieces by lifes uncertainty.

I hate dissection. I have to dissect every tuesday since last week, for three weeks after that. It takes a lot out of me. It's hard to do something that you think is morally wrong. I try to think that it was never a living being, so that seems to make things easier. I think of it as some plastic mold thing that someone made because they were bored in their basements. I don't really care about grammar anymore.

It's approaching 5:48 AM.

I'm starting to fall for a boy. Like truly fall for him. Sometimes he goes quiet though and it makes me feel like something I did was wrong... but he touches me constantly and I like that because like i said above, it makes me feel like i'm cemented to this world by something and I'm not going to fly away like a red balloon.

I hate french class too. Wow this is just one giant VENT. I'm so obnoxious and tired but not wanting to sleep. It's 5:50. I am getting to the point where I type really fast, even though I don't have an aim for my sentences. French is just exhausting. I think i failed another test. Mom's going to be getting me a tutor. I hope it's someone who's understanding and can just help me fake to learn french for just another like two months so that I can do this.

I want to work out. I want to have another job so that I can afford to buy my significant other things. Mainly costumes. Does that sound gay? I want more money. I'm getting PRK in June. I'm scared that he's not going to be able to be there enough, but i know that he'd be there enough to make sure that someone is constantly there. So i'm not constantly relying on my parents. How many times did I just say the word constantly in one sentence?

It's 5:52 AM.

Four minutes and I wrote 3 paragraphs.

I want to write stories again but I don't really have the time.

My goal for my year off is to get published... In something... anything... Anything paper though. It has to be on paper like in the paper, or in a book, or anywhere that's not just on my personal blog.

Someone try to hold me to that. I won't have the time to make excuses.

Someone get a gym membership with me, so i have a reason to actually go.

I don't have the money to go.

It's 5:54 AM, my bed is cold because my windows open and at the end of the day I'm going to end up going to get the dog that we're babysitting downstairs, and pull her up stairs and cuddle with her because I'm lonely, and i'm sad again, for absolutely no reason, like I had said above.

I wasted 30 minutes of my life on writing. It's sad that that's what I really want to do with my life and I just said that. I need to make more cosplay posts... hmmm...

And a todo list:

Todo: Trick more people into cosplaying with me

Trick more people into giving me food

Trick someone into becoming my gym partner

Trick someone else into being my cardio partner (Aka, running--- ew)

Trick another person into becoming my photographer...



Well, not really tricking. I accept volunteers.