Clavus

Written on Jan 18 at 1:36 in the morning.

Well, perhaps the world isn't comingto an end. And I only say this because I bothered to download the MySpace app for my iPod. Which prompted me to log into my account, something I hadn't wanted to do for a while. I haven't been feeling grand at all, and dealingwith people was asking just a bit too much of my mental state. But I logged on, none the less. Upon logging in, I found that I had some messages--other than the ones I had been avoiding since my Christmas Break from Hell started. The new one was from my best and closest friend--despite literal distance and the fact that I haven't spoken to anyone in the last month and a half--Alley.
And this is why I say that the world isn't coming to an end. (At least not yet.)
She left me a comment, with a picture, and for me who had been depressed about a number of thngs, one being people and another being the pain I am still in, that picture made my whole night and day. My chosen time ofthe middle of the night was rather dangerous because of my writer mind, let's say I went places, but they were places in need of revisisting. And her discription of what I would think of the picture was really amusing, it was also dead on. She sent me the pick with the words: I kno yr gonna like... no love this so here you go.

Any guesses what the picture was of?

To Write, Is Life

The Weres Were Here

Well, I think I offically got rid of someone who's been a pain in my butt for awhile. At least I hope I did.
Which brings me to my other point.

Why on Earth just because I'm a pretty blonde chick, must the most of the male population be so goddamn crude? What gives them the right...? The right to strut around, not being that great, or wonderful themselves, and demand things, just because they've got a dick in between their legs? What gives them the right to not listen or respect what I say? Where do they get off? And the sad part is, almost every last one I know acts this way. Except for two.
Xander is one of them.
And to you Xander, I dedicate this post.
Just as I dedicate this post to anyone wanting a relationship and being offended that the world's standards have fallen so badly. I understand your plight because I'm in the middle of it too. I wish I had some great wisdom to impart, the secret to finding true love, to being happy with someone, and feeling like you two were a team and that it didn't matter what the rest of the world did. Because they were there with you.
But I don't have that secret, I don't have an answer. I just know that two of my closest friends have found it. The only sad thing about them is: they exist in the written pages of my yet to be finished book.
Isn't it ironic that two characters got it right?
It is to me.
So I dedicate this post to Xander, the only boy I know who would lay out in the pouring rain with me in the middle of a thunderstorm just because seeing the camera flash of lighting was beautiful.

And remember,

you are the one who will open the door.

To Write, Is Life

We Are the Chosen Ones

See, the problem with imgangeary friends is you can never tell if they're real or not, espically if they have real sounding names. Like take for instants, what I call my imginary friend in public: Will. I call him this because his 'real' name is just a little conspicus and besides most of the time no one knows he doesn't exist. So it's a great thing to hide behind, because he and I really do have some awesome converstions. :D
But this brings me to a problem, even though it's something I'm guilty of too.
Ever like someone, but never wanted them to know so you just create a differnt person and tell everyone you like this mystery man? (Or lass if you're a guy). Ever done that? I have. Like twice. And now I'm starting to become suspicious it is being done about me. Which would be fine, if I weren't dieing to know. :)
But, I could be dead wrong, and then I'll just come across as an arrogent fool, but oh-well.
I suppose that is all for tonight. But before I go, I want to post this poem I came up with about ten minutes ago.

We are the Chosen Ones

We are the ones that keep ourselves
Not locked alone and hurting, we're happy with who we are
But we are the ones that manage through
Every day, unlike that privileged few
We are the ones that survive to tell life's amazing tale
The ones who know that in the end, we always will prevail
Because we are the ones who know
Know not what is to come, but know that if you look inside yourself
We know we aren't the privileged few, we raise our standards, raise our bar
And even though it's always hard to do
We always go on because the day we don't we come to rue
Because we are the Chosen Ones
The ones who know that in life nothing matters but ourselves
Yes, friends do matter, but to what extent?
If they are not of our blood, the Chosen Ones
How much will they matter when they are extinct?
Because to be one of the Chosen Ones
To force the mind to look outside
See the world
And never hide
To not slink away like the our counterparts do
Those who hide: they are the privileged few
So in the spirit of being free
Stand beside your fellows and see
That even though we are few
And that we will always have so much more to do
We take this on, all by choice,
It's in our nature, it was our given voice
And so be proud, even if life gets too much to bear
Please remember you're not alone
You've never been out on your own
Because you are one of the Chosen Ones
Who stand tall, and proud when the battle's done
Even if we are miles apart, and have never met,
Nor had a heart to heart
We are a part of something better,
A mindset of people, who run together
We are not a part of the privileged few
Because of them we have much to do
And be glad you're not one of the privileged few
Because they slink away and hide, and never do they rue
The day their life stopped moving and was done
This is why we are the Chosen Ones.

Hope you liked it!

Vale!

To Write, Is Life

If Only the Sparkly Vampire was Gay. Then I could laugh. Alot.

Well....
Oh hell, I dunno. I don't have anything wonderful or intelgent to post. I'm really frustated, by people, by friends who aren't. And the friends who are friends are so few and far between. Like the one I'm hanging out with now. Xander is a good friend. For all that he gets on my nerves, he is my friend. But everyone else... they are.... I don't know.
Not important, I guess.
I don't know what I want to do. I know that.... I've been through a rough time with this friend that isn't my friend, and it's so damn hard to reconilce that with what I thought I had. I thought I had a best friend, and really I never had her as a best friend.
And it just hurts so much to realize that.
I guess that's all I have to say.

To Write, Is Life

The Primary Colors of Shades of Grey

Well, I have two friends who are depressed, and both of them will deny that they are. One is too busy being either manic or down to notice, let alone listen, and the other is firmly entrenched in the land of denial.
The problem for me is: I actually care about these two people and I'd like to be there for them. But alas, we run in different social circles, one is a lot older than I am, and other is in high school while I am attending my Jr. College so I honestly don't think I'm as close to them as I believe. None of this would bother me except for the way society treats human beings as a whole. Everyone is so self-absorbed --whatever the reason-- that no one can see when other people need you to be there. I've been through that. Had people I'd known for years just disappear the second I wasn't exactly the way I had been for the years before. It's a nasty, selfish product of our times. Along with the false security of 'everyone love and accept everyone else', please, that has never happened. And all that comes of it is people trusting the very people they shouldn't. No one is completely unbiased. People judge by appearances, they judge by sex, they judge by every little detail that they know about you, and it's a human instinct that shouldn't be ignored.

And these two friends of mine are suffering because they don't have real friends to turn to. Or if they do, they don't realize that because real friends are the ones that are there in the quiet way. They don't call you up just to say 'hey' the call you to see how your life is. Really they call because they care.

The sad thing is, there's nothing I can do for my two friends, because I am not close enough to them to be of help. Part of that is my fault, I was in a similar place they were in for a while. I didn't care... about anything... because at that moment in my mind all things beautiful were gone. I didn't matter, the world didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Not even my friends who I cared about.
But now, I'm out of it. Lately, I've had a few epiphanies that I won't go into, mostly because they are deeply personal and rather lengthy to write out, but those epiphanies have helped me realize that I'm just fine the way I am. The handful of people that tried to bend me to their will failed, and it's a great feeling to know that. To turn around and realize that the reason why there isn't a light at the end of the tunnel is because the tunnel is behind me.
JM was right. He always is. And for a mild side note of praise: I love that man. I really do. I respect him more than almost anyone else I know because... he's got spirit. The spirit I strive for. The one that can just laugh, nod and shrug when he is challenged by someone because of his relaxed attitude. Because he knows he is good. And that's all that matters to him. For that... I adore him more than.... anyone.
He is my hero.
And I know how hard it is to realize things, especially when you're knee deep in them and have been manipulated there. I know what it's like to be dead set with thinking that you are right because if you're not right then your whole world will collapse. Because to admit some things takes more than time... it takes understanding. An understanding that many people never find. I never would have except I seem to have my own little 'guardian angel' (really for all intents and purposes he's my imaginary friend). But it still took me nearly three months to realize, after three years of being submersed, and I am still smoothing out my new perception. It's difficult. But I know I could help other people with similar problems. Especially my friends.

The only problem is... I'm too far away.

To Write, Is Life

Fang-y and Grr

Okay, so to sum things up: I'm in computer class, I limped up the stairs like House, I nearly got run over on Tuesday and I hurt my knee in the process, I'm slightly drugged but not enough to stop the pain, and I really, really, really don't want to listen to a lecture that won't do me any good. Also, as a side note, I hate college students. They suck.
Wanna hear about my almost-hit-and-run? Well, on Tuesday, Mom had dropped me off and I was walking across the parking lot, (like everyone does) and I looked both ways before I crossed the street, and there wasn't a car. Then when I'm in the middle of the street someone gasses it around the corner. In order to get out of the way I had to start to run when my knee went out which would have had me on the ground infront of the speeding car, when I changed to my right leg and leaped out of the way. Thank the PTB that my right leg didn't go out too, then I would have been road kill. Anyway, I slammed into the curb, and the damn car kept going, I jammed my right side, and brused and scraped my right knee through my jeans. And to add insult to ingury I landed in an ant pile. They were all in my hair and over my clothes, it wasn't fun.
But this girl came over looking horrorfied and helped me up, along with two other guys to materilized from some where. Anyway the girl helped me back to the car and Mom and I went home.
But I was pissed.
Really pissed.
College students suck, because one was stupid enough to be in a hurry because they couldn't fiuger out how to get to class on time, so they almost hit me, and I could have ended up with surgry.
I'll be making quite a few shirts in my free time. One of them'll say.

If you did not show up to class Monday,

Please do not attend the rest of the week

If you hate me after readng this, I really don't care.

Sorry, but mindsets change after nearlly getting hit.

To Write, Is Life

House MD

Okay, so today I walked into school with a limp and a leather jacket, I felt like Dr. House. Then Mom brought a cane by, so I could walk better, and then I really felt like House. Except mom lost the rubber stopper for the cane so it's a hazard on tile, almost killed myself walking into my computer class.
I'm thinking about buying a different cane, because I would come in handy and actually is alot of fun. Though no one holds doors open for me, which is midly upsetting. :(
But anyway, I've been watching too much house, because I want to make a shirt that says: You Idiot, on it in white. xD
And I'd love to have a best friend like Willson.
Off to do my homework.
Ta all!

To Write, Is Life