You want to be dressed in poetry...

but imagery doesn't fit. You want resizing, but darling dear, get a grip.

I don't know what to write anymore. I never seem to have the words I need to say the things that keep trying to burst out of me. I don't let myself say them. I stifle my voice, as so many before me have. And a lot of me doesn't think that it's a bad thing. Maybe sometimes it is. But always speaking your mind isn't the answer either. Balance is always necessary.

I've been fighting off other people's demons for so long that I've forgotten how to fight my own. I never know how to handle them when we are finally alone. The nightmares have started, though, which is never good.

I've always tried to stay true to myself but I think I'm forgetting who that is.

I'm stealing lines from myself, and what I said was never said. It's just a lyrical lie, made up in my mind.

You'll always be my necessity...

I'd be lost without you. You're the starch in my collar. You're the lace in my shoe.

Well, that was fun.
or something.

I have never actually enjoyed a cast party (maybe Eurydice) but that by far takes the cake. I never thought anything would top Mattress, but I have never been that uncomfortable at a cast party ever. I just wanted to leave as soon as I got there. I don't understand how I've drifted so far away from all of my friends.
I have wonderful friends, but sometimes they're the problem. or I tell myself that to keep the demons at bay. oh, but they're out in full force tonight and there's no fighting them off. it's funny how keeping promises to yourself and not breaking the law only make it harder to fight. i feel vaguely like a velociraptor tore through my heart and left it beating somehow. I mean, I'm fine. Nothing actually happened. I hate parties so as soon as the alcohol came out, I left. My mother would be proud of me. I drove around for like half an hour trying to tell myself things were fine. I came home and tried to read. I decided to go to bed.
I was woken up about half an hour later by a phone call. I didn't answer, luckily. I don't think he'd have noticed if I had. I had no idea how crushing a wordless phone message could be. I mean, it was quite full of sound. but it was empty.

I don't actually think anything was meant by it.


That doesn't change how much it hurts.



But it shouldn't hurt, and I know that. I feel preposterous and rather pathetic for letting it hurt. At the same time, I don't really feel like I have a choice in the matter because it's not like I'm trying to be heartbroken over it. And maybe this is just my brain deciding to move on, but then again it's never been like this before. It's not the end of the world - it never really is - but i hate where my brain goes on nights like this and i guess as long as I keep typing things will be okay. i've never shaken this badly in my entire life. my body shakes when it won't cry. and at least it means he cares enough to try and check in but god how much i hate it.
and he's texting me now, so he's fine and it's fine and he's not being stupid, but he'll never let me in and he'll never let me care and i'll never understand why on earth he needs this to be happy. then again, i don't even know what i need to be happy. i feel like i repeat certain phrases too often when i'm emotionally distressed. i wish that i could feel secure in my relationships for just one day. i wish that i could understand why i'm the second thought, or the backup, or the last resort for so many. i'm just always so scared and i don't understand. i'll never get to be that girl and i don't know why i want to be her, but being me seems to get me nowhere and while everyone seems to like me, no one seems to love me.
excuse me for having to type this all out. i hope you didn't read it. i apologize already, because that's who i am and i can't change it and i hate it. please forgive me.

pour a little salt, we were never here.

well, shit.

i'm just done with this.

i don't even know.

no one reads this.

no one reads me.

it's like i've got this whole world caught in my throat,

and no one notices that it's choking me.

Recently, I've felt anchored. Secure in my doom to never leave the bottom of the ocean, but for some reason never drown.

The problem with this is that the point in the ocean that I'm anchored to has a whirlpool swirling around it, and everything and everyone is moving so fast that even if I tried to reach out the touch someone, I'd just get whiplash.

No one seems to take what I say seriously.

i'll keep writing even though no one has looked at this blog besides me since last february.

i don't know why i feel the need to keep trying, but i'll save the world until i fall apart.

i did this last year.

it created a flurry of fake-care.

for like a month, all of my friends were concerned and loving and tried oh-so-hard to include me.

and then promptly forgot as soon as they felt better about themselves.

so don't try.

don't bother.

I found that in my drafts a little while ago. It's definitely old. Life seems to move in a circular motion, and only a few seem to leap out of the loop and into the world. Sometimes I do wonder why I try so hard, but in the end I know it's because I care. and if caring is a fault, then you can go to hell. I'm trying so hard to be content with what I have because I know its good but my dreams are so much bigger than the small towns I get myself stuck in. I could be happy here if I let go. But I've never known how to let go. Friends are like snow. i love it so much, but i never know what to do with it, and it never sticks around quite long enough - or if it does, it browns with misuse.

it's like slow-dancing to a beat too fast to hear.
it's like eating pie every day of the year.
it's like holding you close every night in my dreams.
it's like knowing that no one hears my screams.
it's like going crazy bit by bit.
it's like being afraid of being a bitch.

I don't know anymore. and I think that's what I'm supposed to say, so I don't want to say it.
"i don't know why i feel the need to keep trying, but i'll save the world until i fall apart."

So why don't you just say something you haven't rehearsed?

...but that leaves nothing. Along with me, you've neglected the urge to be real, real with me. If I asked for one thing - just say I love you - but I know you won't blink. Truth won't pass your lips, I know. Stop pretending.

It's funny how life rolls round like a ball and always hits you in the same place. This week has been full of tough news, stress, and surprisingly, love. I've never felt so close to some of my friends. I've decided that this year is going to be about pouring time into the friendships that matter - and the friendships that are healthy. I'm sick of one-sided friendships and I deserve better than that. It's so hard for me to say that but I wish I'd realized it years ago.
So much of my life is about pleasing other people and making them happy, and forgetting about myself. I need to take care of myself. I can't love the way I do without repercussions. So fuck the world, I'm taking some time for me. The world has been spinning for plenty long without me taking care of everything, it can keep on going. Someone asked me the other day why I spend so much time in the theatre. Actually, what they asked was "Do you think it's going to burn down without you there?" They were joking, but it's a good point. It's hard to balance Diana's expectations with the fact that I have a life, but it's something that I need to do, and I need to be honest with her when she's insane about how much I'm expected to do as a student and part of her team.
I'm off to church, and then I'm off to take on the world (or just my nerves). Wish me luck - I'm sure you'll hear about this.

But if destruction is what I needed...

I just wanted a safer place to hide...

Senior year is just around the corner. I can't believe time has moved this fast. I remember writing my blog posts at the beginning of it all - scared, confused, totally lost. I'm still pretty much in the same spot, really. I wonder if life ever stops being confusing, or if humans are more or less doomed to confusion for all eternity. I wish I had the strength to just say fuck it and go for what I want, but sometimes I'm sure it takes more strength to stay where I am.
This summer was spectacular for so many reasons. I am so glad it happened. From discovering new friends to working the Walla Walla Sweet Onion Festival and Hairspray to Kimmy's wedding to Motley Crue, everything was so good. I have grown so much. I still struggle, but I think that is just how life goes. Plateaus are simply building ground for the next growth spurt.
I've been discussing with a dear friend about how love is a swimming pool. It's so much fun when you're swimnming and splashing about and enjoying things. Sitting on the edge or on the deck of the pool, just watching, sucks. Sometmes, you're really enjoying the pool and the company, and sometimes, it's just not the right time to swim. So you get out, towel off, and wait for things to be right. Sometimes, you're swimming alone, waiting for someone to jump in with you. Sometimes, you're poised on the diving board waiting for someone to tell you to jump and watch you fall (maybe so you can splash them on the way in). I had just finished toweling off, and had decided to sit a little farther away from the pool for awhile, maybe read a book on the deck... It was so pleasant. What do you do if someone pushes you back in?
I'm also learning to be content with my friends the way they are. So if that means they don't speak to me for a few weeks, fine. It's hard for me, because I'm ridiculously anxious about things like that - but it promotes healthier friendships. Hopefully, this conscious learning process will help me adapt into a healthier person.
I've had this overwhelming need to ask people if they think I'm pretty or not recently - please don't answer that, readers - and I think it is preposterous. It actually kind of bugs me that I want to ask so much, because it shouldn't matter and it only displays my insecurities. Clearly, I'm an insecure female - I'm living. My insecurities are my own and I shouldn't need to beg for attention because of them, right?
I can't even begin on the last few days yet. They have been so good and so, so bad. I'm a mess. I'll tell you when I figure things out.

Oh, starry eyes, standing alone in the night...

You could see her cry, with a smile and a wink and a sparkle in her eyes. She calmly sighed, "I will be alright."

The Motley Crue concert kicked my ass. I have never been so content with my music choice. The New York Dolls were fantastic, Poison were preposterous but fun, and Motley Crue just about destroyed me. There were fantastic. My concertmates (totally a word) were splendiferous as well. I really enjoy hanging out with those two, and it was some much-needed time with the guys. I love the many girls I have learned to be friends with over the past few years, but I definitely needed some time with guy friends.
This weekend, so far, as revealed to me some self-truths. I'm going to do some blatant word vomit processing here.

Truth #1 - I swear too much.
I think that it is a healthy thing to be comfortable swearing around specific people. I think it is good to not be afraid of a word just for the connotations - not judging a book by its cover, to be cliche. I do not think that it is okay to swear whenever the hell I want just for shits and giggles. The fact that "shits and giggles" is even a common phrase in my vocabulary says something about my swearing policy. I'm not afraid of words like fuck or cunt, but I know that both of those words offend a lot of people. I know that most swearing is done by people in my age range. This time in life is all about finding the balance between living for yourself and respecting other people. A lot of my swearing is rude and disrespectful. I didn't realize it until I caught myself saying "shit" in front of my siblings, to my parents. I'm not sure what I'm going to do about it quite yet, but the realization itself was an important moment.

Truth #2 - I am far too stubborn about being independent.
I've known this for awhile - I mean, who fights boys when they open car doors for you? (p.s. thank you, tumnus...) - but a recent injury has really brought this to light. I rolled my ankle on the walk to Dana's tonight. It was dark and I was in all black. Luckily, Katie was with me and patiently waited for me to be able to stand again. It's not terrible (i think) but it hurts. I wouldn't even let Katie help me stand up. I remember sophomore year tripping up the risers in Stage II and literally bruising half of my body, and refusing Mike's help for at least an hour before it hurt so much that I gave in. Balance again, right? It's a good thing to be independent. That doesn't mean that I shouldn't allow people to help me when I do need it. Especially when it puts me in danger to refuse the help. I do not have to prove myself to anyone.

Truth #3 - I take far too long to move on.
I don't hold grudges, at least not thus far in life. But there are other things to move on from, crushes being the top of my list, and I seem to struggle with that. I have this friend who can't seem to hold on to a crush for longer than a week. I've never understood why, because I hold on to them for ages. I'm sure that friend does not understand why I can like someone for an entire year without them ever showing signs of reciprocation (or why, even after I'm 'over' someone, I get random flare ups that endanger my friendships). I don't know why I'm so prone to hold on. I used to think it meant that I was meant for a long relationship someday. I'm not so sure any more, no matter what my mounds of guy (and gay) friends say. It doesn't mean as much coming from someone who will never so much as look at me like that. I appreciate it all the same, but it is less convincing than ever right now.

Truth #4 - My love language is decidedly touch.
And it sucks.

And in the darkest light, if my memory serves me right...

I'll never turn back time, forgetting you but not the time.

On an entirely different note than the rest of this blog, I feel rather rooted down suddenly. I feel content in who I am. I've come to appreciate the unique beauty of being a wallflower - the perks of being a wallflower, if you will. I know that a lot of my friends struggle with similar things. We're all just looking to be loved and to be happy. It's hard to find that in yourself, but I don't think you can really find it in someone else. Happiness has to come from within. I'm not saying I've found that happiness within myself, but I think I've found the road that I must travel.
I'm reading The Hobbit to my little sister over the phone, and it is one of the most rewarding experiences I've ever had the pleasure to discover. Madi reached out to me and asked me to read to her sometimes, and she wanted to hear the Hobbit (which, luckily, we both have a copy of). I called her today and read her the first chapter, and she made me makes up tunes to the songs. It was so good to just hear how happy my sister was because she was "spending time" with me. The fact that we also got to enjoy one of my favorite books together was just a bonus. I never put much stock in family until I came to college and found so many people who aren't as lucky as I am. I have two parents who still love each other very much, and two obnoxiously talented and beautiful younger siblings who are just starting to blossom.
My trip to Walla Walla this summer was so much better than last year's trip. I thoroughly enjoyed the musical, Hairspray, and spent quality time with some friends. As crazy as it sounds, some of my best friendships have grown out of crushes, and I'm very grateful for the friendship that has taken root between Preston and I. For all the crap I give him, he really is a wonderful friend and he puts up with a lot of shit from me.
Goodnight, my friends. Thank you.

I could lie to myself, but its true...

I should be happy. I should be gloriously happy. My life is wonderful. I have spectacular friends. I'm surrounded by uplifting, genuinely honest and beautiful people. I love my job, even when I'm doing the boring stuff. I have so much good in my life, and yet the tiniest thing can get me down. I swear there is a disconnect in my brain. It's like my heart/mind refuses to be happy. I am so proud of where I've gone since I decided I was going somewhere, and yet I react like I have done nothing. No, worse than that. Like I am nothing. I know that isn't true, and yet I can't seem to act on that knowledge. I should be happy. Why am I not?

It's so nice to have people around me. People who stop me from doing stupid things. People who give me hugs and save me ticker tape because it was the best free souvenir they could find from the concert that I should have gone to with them. I need to find a way to connect the part of me that is so happy and grateful to have friends like mine with the part of me that feels continually alone. For all of the happy things I am experiencing, I still find myself writing things like this entry and this little bit of poetry that refuses to grow:

the words have a song
and the song isn't me
i think the song's you
but you don't want to be

I don't understand how I can have a disconnect this severe in my mind. I am worth something, and I am sick of the rest of me not remembering that. I feel like I'm a pathetic high school kid all over again, but I know that this is not something that will be fixed by letting it slide away. I've been trying that for too long. It's like I live inside my head. I don't participate in my own life. I'm so passive, and that's why I end up discontent after I've successfully made everyone else happy. For all the people I love and all of the lives I work so hard to improve, I do nothing for myself. I don't think I can even pass it off as being Christian or unselfish or anything at all that is so good - I'm just neglecting myself in every way I can that isn't obvious to the naked eye.

...you should probably not know how much I'm falling apart right now, but I'm sick of being the strong one.

It was really, really good...

You made me happy every single day, but now I've got to go away!

I am rather extremely dissatisfied with my life right now. I'm trying to figure out why so I can fix it and thus be somewhat happy again. It has something to do with the showing of Rocky Horror that I recently attended with people that I consider to be good friends. I felt uncomfortable and out of pace all night. Rocky Horror, for me, is something special that isn't about how hot you are or how talented you are - it's about being yourself and having fun and making a fool of yourself. I just couldn't enjoy it like that this time, because all they said all night was "Damn! Look at how hot we are!"... except that I didn't feel "hot" - I felt uncomfortable and out of place. You can tell in the pictures. There is just such a disconnect between how I see the world and how all of them see the world.
As we were getting ready, we were watching Taken - which I had never seen before. As it came to the big final battle where Liam Neeson is badass and kills everyone in order to save his daughter, I got increasingly uncomfortable. There was a point where he injured someone enough that he could have gotten away and kept moving, and instead took the time to kill the man even though he had a wife and children waiting for him (which had been stated in the movie). In true Maery fashion, I yelled at Liam Neeson not to kill him because he had children. Isabel gave me her utter-disgust-with-how-awful-you-are face and said something along the lines of "I don't fucking care. He's evil." I left it at that because Isabel could probably kill me if she wanted to, but it bothered me for awhile. Obviously, it is still bothering me since I'm writing about it here. The fact that he was still human and still had a life worth living rung so true in my heart that I couldn't understand how they didn't agree with me, but then I think about how elated everyone was when Osama bin Laden died and I'm shocked at how bloodthirsty Americans are when it comes to those deemed "evil". Then again, I've always loved the darker characters in books...
On a completely unrelated and entirely lighter note, Weird Al Yankovic's mother is named "Mary Elizabeth" and it makes me really happy.

What's an angel like you ever do with a devil like me?

The end of this school year (my junior year of college, for those who can't keep up) has reminded me just how introverted I am. Friendships I thought were lost have suddenly grown back due to some much needed one-on-one time, and friendships I never thought I'd have blossomed quietly. I'm still the quiet girl in the background, but I've learned (at least a little) to be okay with being a wallflower. Having just re-read The Perks of Being a Wallflower for the millionth time since jolsby gave it to me freshman year for Christmas [when we were not on speaking terms], I know that there are many blessings to being the observer. I just need to learn to participate in my own life a little bit.
I'm so sick of sitting around and waiting for things to happen. While my current frustration is romantic in nature, I've come to realize that if I had just spoken up about a couple of different issues this past year, things would have turned out much better. I don't think I'll ever be able to speak up about how much it bugs me to be the 'ugly' girl of the group, but that is mostly because none of the girls would ever agree with me. Being as close as I am with so very many guys, it is something I've come to accept about myself. I would never trade what I do have - incredible friendships - for what I've seen so many of my beautiful friends go through. While I wish desperately at times to be loved and cherished, I know that there are more important things, like God's love for me and the fact that I am finally at least a little bit proud of who I am.
My new room is really cold, mostly because it is in the basement. Maybe also because we haven't figured out how to turn the heat on yet. I'm loving having my own room, and living in a house, but I don't spend much time here since I'm working so much and always seem to end up at Caitlin and Dana's house. I definitely need to spend some quality time just relaxing in my room (and maybe finishing the organizing). The worst part of this summer (that I can foresee) is my current utter lack of guy friends. As a girl who spends most of her time playing with the boys (...forgive me, I just watched Top Gun for the first time...), trying to survive without any male presence other than a few of the staff at work is awful. I love the girls to death, but there is really no one I can be nerdy around now, let alone someone that can read my mind the way so many of my guy friends have learned. I really, truly miss having nerdy conversations and learning nerdy things because all of my guy friends are nerdier than me (except Kurt). I'm literally counting the days until Preston comes to see KISS because it means I get to have a guy friend for a few short hours.
Speaking of Preston, I'm going to see Motley Crue (with Poison and the New York Dolls) in August with him and Reid. It will be so incredibly epic. Thank you, God, for friends like those two.