The Complication

Me and Kimya, we're doppelgangers yo'. 

doesn't make sense

I'm thinking about you and it doesn't make sense. You don't make sense. I'm watching the Olympics all day, every day, and they don't make sense. The most confusing part is the gymnast mens' shoulders. Around and around...Are they elastic? Are they human? I'm watching the news, I'm watching the death. Death in Syria and war over things that don't make sense. Death doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense but it still happens. A soldier who goes to war for a noble cause, only to die, that doesn't make sense. When bad things happen to good people, that doesn't make sense. Which is why you can't trust karma. Because the results aren't accurate, they aren't reliable, they aren't solid. Karma doesn't make sense. Men who kill people, they go to jail. Jail, where they can be alone, where they are fed three meals a day without earning money. They can write, they work out. And they've killed someone, and there is someone out there who has lived a perfectly good life and is digging through dumpsters for food. That doesn't make sense. The world, it doesn't make sense. They tell us what is enjoyable, what is valuable. Sex=good. Food=Bad. Diamonds=$. Souls=okay to waste. That doesn't make sense. What makes diamonds valuable? The people that buy them? The price they sell for? That they are hard to find? Are they any more beautiful than flowers, dragonflies. That doesn't make sense. Is a good man valuable? Maybe to me, not to the world. Is a good man honest? Maybe to me, not to the world. That doesn't make sense. To value riches over morals, that doesn't make sense. Low self-esteem, doesn't make sense. Comparing yourself to others when we were all created different, doesn't make sense. If God created us all different, isn't it almost an insult to him to try and all be the same? The world wasn't made to be monochromatic. That makes sense. Color, that makes sense. Feelings, they don't always make sense, but having them, that makes sense. Evolution, that doesn't make sense. The dinosaurs, they don't make sense. Did God just put the bones on the earth for human discovery? For the imagination. That makes sense. My thoughts, usually don't make sense. My dreams, never make sense. My writing, will always make the least sense.

{today is really summer}

{realizing you have less than half the summer}
{remembering goals that seemed plausible last night}
{eating sugar like there is no tomorrow. even though there is.}
{planning and planning}
{dreaming of beaches}
{getting tan-well, for you}
{noticing that your only friend is a bird}
{not caring about that ^^^}
{wishing for kisses. Hersheys...}
{forgetting how to blow-dry your hair}
{falling asleep on the trampoline}
{thinking you need a job}
{but remembering how good lazy feels}
{falling in love...again}
{hot grape nuts}
{zipline rides with glow sticks}
{being amused}
{doing ab workouts and failing}
{reading over 15 books already}
{going over the limit of books at the library}
{blogging, blogging, blogging}

give me a reason

Please, give me a reason to believe in myself.
Give me a reason to run. To stop eating sugar. To look good. To feel good. To go out and run like there is no tomorrow. The moment has come and gone, and I've become a couch potato. I'm not motivated and I'm not ready to be skinny.

Give me a reason to do my homework. I'm tired of turning work in on time and always getting A's.
I'm tired of the teachers who "want me to do so well" and know that I will as long as they say that. They know that as long as they "believe in me" that I will go home and study until I understand.
I'm tired of it.

Give me that reason to stop liking him. Who cares? Why does it matter? So what if there's no way anything will ever happen, and no way we could be friends. I'm tired of friends getting mad at me because they think I will "get hurt". The truth is, I'm already hurt. I'm already broken, I've already been bruised, and right now I'm not ready to mend my wounds. I'm tired of stealing glances and I'm tired of wishing. I'm tired of laying in my bed every night and wondering what will happen to me tomorrow, or if the next day will be any better.

Give me a reason to get ready in the morning. I'm not trying to impress anyone. I'm not worried about how my hair looks all the time. If I come to school with my hair wet every morning, it is not any different than when I come after an hour of getting ready. I'm tired of waking up, and I'm tired of mascara and worrying about how I look. I'm tired of Lone Peak and all of its fetishes and popular people. I'm tired of fashion trends and I'm tired of people asking me if I'm sick when I don't wear makeup.

Give me a reason to care. I honestly don't care what people think. I don't care if they talk behind my back about how strange or how moody I am. The facts are there and anybody is free to spread them. I'm tired of not knowing where I fit in, and I'm tired of walking around at lunch until I find a group that will almost reluctantly let me in. I'm tired of thinking that I need friends to be cool, and thinking I need to be cool at all. I'm just tired of feeling so worried about it. I'm tired of worrying about a prom date, and wondering when a boy will actually like me.

I can't find the reason, so give me one. Give me a reason why I'm living like this. Why I'm living life perfectly, step by step, the same routine every day. Just like a wind-up doll, I'll eventually snap out of this redundant way of life. But for now, there's not any way to change. I'm only sixteen and I'm only toying with my very future. (notice the thick sarcasm in my voice.) The person I want to be is lost and the person everybody else wants me to be is quickly emerging.

Things that have happened.

1. I got a job.

2. I quit my job.*

3. I got grounded.

4. I read Hunger Games. Again.**

5. I officially stopped doing my hair.

6. I stopped eating.***

7. I got a twitter...okay, I started writing on my twitter that is age old.

8. The circumference of a circle is..ACT Prep.****

9. I have gotten to the point where I could cry at any given moment.*****

10. I am inadequate.

*Okay, don't jump on my back about this. Truth is, I only went through a few days of training. But after a while, I realized that I simply couldn't handle it. I mean, sure, I want a job. But I don't need one. I felt I needed responsibility and money at the moment, but truth is, that is the last thing I need. I have too much of the previous and the latter will just have to wait. So, I'm going to work in the summer. So technically I didn't quit. I just postponed.

**Oh my gosh. How could I love Hunger Games more? I couldn't. I finished that whole dang book in less than 24 hours and could hardly call it wasting time. Can't wait for the movie, and can't believe I'm not going to the midnight premiere. Those of you who can go--you better go.

***I'm not anorexic. I just forget to eat. I'm not even hungry....Okay well I ate like a whole bag of movie theatre butter microwave popcorn the other day. That was pretty substantial.

****So scared for the ACT. I actually really shouldn't be on the computer right now...I really should be studying. Okay better wrap this up.

*****Sigh. Dread. Consider my last post--this is how I've been thinking and feeling for the past few weeks. In reference to #10, I'm simply inadequate. I do everything wrong. I can't understand physics and, just school. I don't understand this boy. I want to get asked to prom. I know I won't. Its okay. Just keep telling yourself that, right? 

A simple Metamorphosis

Standing in the doorway, I am more alone than ever. The peculiarity of my solitude doesn't phase me; the rush of the crowd brushes against my cheek. I see past the stares and the complexity of conversations whispering in my ear. I hear the breeze and I feel footsteps on the floor. My heart pounds faintly in my chest, drawing my eyes to my thoughts. I strain for the simplicity and satisfaction that tears can bring, only to find my efforts are without amends. My aperture is low, and my focus is single. Then the shutter is released; the lens is cracked. Vibrations wake me and the world comes alive. Colors appear, and the faces come clear at once. A vibrant blur, I search for familiarity in the chaos. Noise tramples my thoughts and kills my mind-wanders. The discordant sounds of voices echo in and out of my ears, a constant stream of long verbs and sharp consonants. My feet force themselves out of paralysis; I trip over my toes and shove myself against the mass. Slowly, steadily, I make progress. Nobody can tell whether it is progress or a fall; but I see improvement and only improvement. The reason? Only my instincts can tell. Perhaps I will find him, perhaps I will stumble upon my old friend. Above the crowd, he towers above the rest and calls me to his unknown, yet faintly familiar embrace. He is confidence and he is comfort. My fight against them has been fought and my struggle with my own conflicts has been realized. I allow my rigid, determined figure to relax and become limp in his arms. I welcome him, and he accepts the invitation without a particle of reluctance. My shattered everything tumbles into order and perfection, and I forget previous disarray. The images of materialism dissolve and I find beauty in myself and in others without envy. He takes me carefully by the hand and leads me along, nudging me back into a river of senses. I remember, and my productivity increases. The change I have discovered is inside of me, and my course cannot be stopped.

Read if you like Rambles

Time for a ramble.

Its really peculiar the way things work, isn't it? One moment you think the world is ending, and the next you're afraid that any more laughter could make your head explode. I'm curled up in the fetal position yesterday, and today I'm nothing less than normal. The truth is I'm not really sure why I'm like this, but I know that most of the population is probably quite similar. I have an opinion about life--and the opinion is this: Life is unmistakably hard. Its unbelievable at times, and it's full of people who will tear you down. But the truth is they are all here to make you stronger.

I live a fairly average life. Repetition and schedules are prominent, and I don't see much adventure when I'm in school. The thing that makes it all different, though, is my attitude. I may go to school with my hair wet, but maybe its because I enjoy sleeping. Not maybe--I do enjoy sleeping. I'm not sure where I'm going with this.
I really wonder how happy the "happy" people are. I've talked about being popular. About cheerleaders. I'm just not sure, who are the people who are really happy?

All I know is I want to escape. I want to leave and never come back. I want to get out of the school where I hear about druggies, lesbians, and the LDS church all in one sentence. I'm ready to move on and grow up. That sounds so depressing--but if I had ever been in Neverland, I wouldn't have left. The thing about Neverland is that you have no worries. (also Hakuna Matata). But this isn't Neverland and you have to go to school, have a career, grow up. And if you don't, you could be stuck in high school with a bunch of morons who think its cool to talk about sex all the time. I'm sorry, but that isn't cool.

I know that stuff is more prominent out of Utah. But I honestly don't care. If I could leave right now, I wouldn't have to listen to it. I could just sleep in trees, eat on top of buildings, wear my shoes out until they  have no soles. (Is this bad? Am I wishing to be a poor person right now?) But seriously! Money shouldn't matter. I just want an adventure. And maybe a love story. I'm sick of the whole teenage drama where you break up, cry, make up, and then never talk to each other again. I'm not even one of those girls who get into those relationships! I seem to always find myself in the position of the girl who nobody likes.

Well, people like me. But nobody (no boys) love me. I'm a friend, I'm the crazy one you want to sing in the car at the top of your lungs with. But sometimes I'm afraid I'll never be the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. I don't know. I'm over it. I've given up and left it alone. The one I love never seems to love me back at the right moment, and I'm afraid that I tend to overreact a little too much. So I'll be at home on Valentine's Day. Bring me some food if you want. (And the sweetheart's dance. Is anyone going?) Obviously I'll always be the girl who is there for the guy when he's having girl problems. With a different girl.

Anyways enough with the pity party here's some pictures.
(next post I'm TOTES going to post my own pictures so look forward to it.)

just assume for a minute

This is what you feel like when you have only gotten

Four hours of sleep

Because of that wretched, wretched smoke detector

that seems to detect smoke

when there is no smoke

With or without batteries;

whether or not it is in the ceiling. 

This is what you feel like when

coach says,

"You're simply not tall enough"

And you go to tryouts feeling like
There is no possible way.

This is what you feel like

When your starving.

Ravenous.

And the lunch lady mumbles,

"Zero. Zero Dollars."

This is what you feel like 

when you open the door,

and its not him.

When you look at your phone,

and its a text from your mom.

When you see him and feel like

a complete loser because you can't think 

of anything to say; so you just smile.

This is what you feel like

when you wake up in the morning with

a big, obvious zit on your face.

You can't do anything about it

except for mope.

This is what you do when you think

you understand Physics

But you find out you are doing 

everything

completely, utterly, disasterously

wrong.

This could also possibly be what you feel like

when you drink 9 cups of hot chocolate

and are terrified to step on the scale.

This is what you feel like when you're

jobless,

moneyless, 

in debt, 

and without a clue.

This is what you feel like when your life is 

tumbling down the laundry chute

and nobody notices you

because your just a grungy old t-shirt

that is most likely too gross,

boring, 

and filthy

to even be donated to DI.

This is what I feel like.

so, its my life

welcome,
its my life.
You never know what you'll get, but you can expect a lot of
surprises,
irony,
and coincidences.
If you're lucky, you could be thrown into one of my more recent rages.
I lie about wanting to go to homecoming.
I say I don't.
But only because
I'm not going to get asked.
It's okay though.
It's okay.
If you want to really know me,
you probably never will.
I like to fake my secrets
and create my alter life.
I make my own excitement.
I control my dreams.
and I am usually happy.
Even if I pretend that I'm not.
You know that I'm upset
when I'm crying.
And you know that I'm jealous
when I can't keep my eyes in one place.
You know that I'm nervous
When I can't stop talking.
and you know that I'm lying
when I'm at a loss of words.
Meet the girl
without a boyfriend
because I keep my standards high.
Don't ask me why I do it.
Sometimes I ask myself the same question.
Most of the time
I'm afraid of what
could happen.
I need someone who
can just say yes or no
to every decision I want to make.
Speaking of decisions.
I hate them.
If there's anything I'm more afraid of
than spiders,
its decisions.
I know, I'm
a baby.
But
Think about it.
My decisions affect so many
people.
and I could make so many
people
Unhappy.
Let me tell you something else
(you being the reader, if there are any)
I can have self control
if I want to.
I am kind
if I want to be.
I'm dramatic
When I'm attention starved.
And when I don't give you a hug,
I still want one.