I feel better just knowing I'm about to give you my heart...real this time, like homemade ice cream.

29 things are smacking me over the head. Only one, home, will be smacking as I fly this Friday.

Should I do it before I go?

I'm scared to do what I have to do. Sending you that email made my hand shake. But it's done, I can't take it back...now we will really talk.

He sat across from me and nothing was communicated. I think, to him, I am like the furniture. Movable, meaningless, fabric.

And at that moment I hated him, more then anyone on campus and it made me want to cry.

I will later.

I'll wait.

We don't talk, we avoid.

It's true, It's almost over.

I am...

Mutable like water.

There are pennies in the fountain by founders hall. They don't really bother me, just make me wonder why.

Why do we make these unrealistic wishes.

The wishes on first stars, on rusty pennies that I could have used, on comets...Love, respect, a new life, all my efforts were fruitless.

...so tired.

Beaten

Appretiative

What's going on and how come I'm out if the loop.

My life is passing me by and I'm watchimg with a half smile on my face...wishing I could stop it, and remake it.

A life make over.

But first...there are all of these things I have to resolve.

I have to get better, I have to run away, I have to figure out what I want in this life.

The excuses are abundant. They're bigger then my desires to change and they always win.

If I could just will them to lose. If I could just will them away.

If I could change, god damn, if only I could change.

I want to yell at you and tell you how insinsitive you are. I want to put up a good fight and at least be able to say that I tried. But instead I let you tell me that this...disapointment...would lead to my finding the person of my dreams. Bullshit and you knew it. Well, now it's getting harder and harder for me to look you in th eyes. I don't want to be kind to you and tell you what you want to hear. No... I want to slap you across the face and remined you that I still exsist and I feel the exact same way I did on that day I gave you my soul and you gave it right back. I want to cry to you about how much you are loved, and how easy it is to love you every second, how painful. Why do you insit on pursuing this dream, why am I doing the same thing...target, you. You are the source, of what? My discomfort, my happiness, my sickness. Please, if you care about my saftey, tell me how much you hate me. Talk about how we can't be friends anymore because I don't have perfect hair. If you care for me give me a reason to hate you other then the one I already harbor, my unceasing love.

I can feel myself slowly losing it. I don't think I can walk past him one more time without going off about his ignorance of my love.

I don't think I can type one more word for a class, without shouting to the gods that my heart has more to say.

Keep ignoring me and you'll see the breakdown of a human being.

It will be slow, first I will cry, then I will scream, and then I will go mad blubbering about my sensitivity to the light.

If I could explode my feelings into the atmosphere, people would be knocked clear to the end of the universe.

If I let what is inside of me make it's appearance I'm sure it would resemble the moaning and suffering of the world.

I type, to let it out slowly. Drip. But it could gush, oh, could it, and flood this whole campus. My rage, my sadness swirling around my body. I would stealthaly walk to your door, open it and "away we go." The words I've always wanted to say bursting through m lips, blinding you, they're so intense. Get your sunglasses it's time to ride.

My life flashed today and it was good. Sometimes being sick feels better then being well because the inside is making it's appearence.

This boy walked in front of me for two seconds and I could see that he was a stunning beauty.

I've never been good at hiding how I feel, I must cultivate that skill, so that you won't be able to see the love shining on my face every time we pass.

Walmart is definately a downer.

I'm going to Costa Rica When?:O

I feel yellow. Hazy. Fog on glass after a hot shower. Gauze, lace, a veil.

Friday the thirteenth. This day has been an interesting phenomenon in my life. Every Friday the thirteenth I have wished and wished that something exciting would happen. Fall in love, Make out, Make love. But never have I had an interesting one. Tommorow, maybe, will be different.

I have to tell me about the dream I had. I walked away from you angry and hurt because you choose to go. But for a minute while I held you, for a minute when I told you to tell the truth, you paused and contemplated it. There was nothing for me to think about, personally, and because it was up to you I ended up crying. Some people can't see what's right in front of thier face.

How can you be so cruel? And what's more, how come you can't see how much you hurt my heart? She is beautiful isn't she? She is the epidemy of what it means to be feminan, it's interesting how I can't even spell that word. Well I'll just keep on, and you can just keep on, but I won't stop caring. You were so awkward when you asked me. Why were you akward? I would go anywhere with you, and it's evident that I scare the life out of you. And it's evident that I just can't shrink anymore. I won't. I am not going to shrink from anyone anymore. No one is better, no one is happier, no one is smarter. We are all doing the best we can. I just want to love myself and you...no more comaprisons, no more compromises, no more pain...at least for now.

I'm driving in my car made of clouds down a path that is so foggy. The windshield wipers are doing thier best to move the air so I can see. Big trees that look like bodies remind my of my smallness of my insecurities of all of the mistakes. Trees don't make mistakes. Sometimes it's hard to care that I just ran over a rabbit in the road. It's increadibly tempting, the cliff that hangs to my right. Down, Down I could fall. There are people on the side of the road, they have tears in thier eyes. Some of them are smiling and some sobing and they all look at me as if I have an answer for them. I yell out the window, "Respect!" and keep driving, this makes thier tears come faster. My tears are mixed with sweet rain and thunder, lightning is a possibility and I will it to come zipping through my heart in order that I can finally live. But this road seems endless and the chance of lightning dim. And for the life of me I can't see more then 10 feet on either side.

This is about my life and how it feels dead.

This is about how I can't just, "work it out," because there's no one out there to say "I love you to."

This is about how there dosen't seem to be a sollution and this is about how I can't resolve things with an imaginary dream.

This is about how I lay down at night unsatisfied and untouched and barren as the desert.

This is about the Zoo lights and my dad pretending to be cool, and my embaressment but mostly my admiration.

This is about how my admiration turns into black jealousy and I can't see a damn thing.

This is about my hair and my feet, my hands and my sweat.

This is about all of those boys who called me ugly and hairy...they broke my spirit.

This is about the cracks that are still making it hard for my heart to pump.

This is about how Katie and I used to do the spider on the swing, and sit on the same toilet...I wasn't cool enough for her eventually.

This is about how we are all just trying to make it in the world...and this is about what the television says we should be.

This is about my first relaxer and the denial of my heritage. You can never understand how I don't even know who I am.

This is about how I am not being patient and how I'm trying in vain.

This is about his symapthy pains for his mother my sympathy pains for my sister...my sympathy pains for myself.

This is about how I wouldn't go into popeyes in Northeast Portland, because I was scared of the stigma attached to your skin color, mine just happens to be the same.

This is about self fulfilling prophacies, I must learn to make positive ones.

This is about how I don't know what to do and I keep talking about death...and it's OK with me.

Seems we're back to the begining. I sure know how to pick 'em. I treid to dance today and was returned with blank stares, my plight is unique...so don't hold me back with yours, and struggle when I bring you down, and never let me succeed.

Home is calling, it is doing that, way down in the gut thing, animal, rabid, screaming so that the whole world vibrates.

He said to kill him in a humane way, maybe give him some drugs that would just make him go to sleep forever. I will make a potion out of my tears and sweat, the death inside, and he won't wake.

Sometimes you just have to say no.

Order, my life needs. Breath, my life needs, come breath here in this place between my lips and it will be a kiss...revisit my soul.

He told me he was always here for me today, "just come visit my office, but his eyes kept wandering to the door where people came in and out denying thier lives are also a mess.

Tedious, always tedious, and the point stuck somewhere between the sun and real meaning. It's so dim, my pupils dialate letting in more then light.

Don't worry about it because I love you, and never stop calling me Liz, it lets me know you feel the same.

Bitter, so bitter I can taste it. It doesn't go down well and how come it makes me want to rebell.

The bile in your throat makes me remember the times I was very sick, clinging to my throw up bucket, clinging to my sanity, telling my mom not to leave so I would have someone to call the police when my guts finally fell to the floor. Those were not good days, lets not revisit them.

He did look pretty tonight. Maybe he had a hot date with the girl of his dreams...lust can do that to a boy.

I am a hypocrit and that's all right with me. I do what I feel and I never feel the same way twice. My life is always changing...nuance by nuance, watch it go.

I find myself craving middle school and the calm insanity of it all. There were so many years ahead of me then, and I'll tell you it was a certainty that I would live forever.

I can feel my mortality, my sensitivity to the cold. I can feel how fragile these fingers are, one snap and thier gone. If I touch my stomach, it's as if I have trooped on to uncharted territory just waiting to be colonized. Don't talk to me about how superior human beings are, about how each new advance in the medical field is a garantee of longer life. I want to feel this vulnrability, it keeps me good. I am not above the spider that scares me...could kill me. How arogant, how truly ignorant we all are, and why

I woke up this morning wishing the dream didn't have to end. But Uyen always says to smile, so let me work. It's some how alright with me already. Home changed me because I relized how I have changed. Oh, the new and improved Elizabeth, haven't you met? She is nicer, she cares about the women in music videos, she thinks tubas are great and Elsa is just as selfish as ever. She combs her hair to no avial and she says she doesn't care, so the screams won't come ripping out of her body, tearing around corners, trying to find your heart. She is so sad she can't even put it in words. It's just, heavy as hell...But as I said before home changed the heart that was turing blue in a turnicit of frustration. OK I'll give me that. The air was so smooth and my toes so cold, but that was the siccor. I felt like I had died and gone back to my original state. I slept without my teddy bear and my mom knew to give me Stephanie's. Go get Tucker, she said. And the cramps went away. I chanted my ass off, I'm gonna win, and it took on a new meaning. Where is the fear? It comes back, let me think of the times I forget it...Dinner, Tamisha and baby, I love you. Seth, he bumped his nose, his mother looked at my aunts picture and MY mother told me, they adore you. It's because I look like the mother they all lost and I know to treasure my vibrations. My dad told me once, "there's this look that you get on your face, and all I can see is my mamma." Oh dad, if you only knew how much she loved you.

The world must be spinning too fast, that would explain it. This clock in my head is ticking, I can hear it. It reminds me that I am behind, that I have too much work, that I have been so unproductive and now I'll pay. After this week who will I be. Frantic, remembering home, wishing I were there. It's nose to the grind stone, it's sorry there is no mercy, it's how come there are so many damn overachivers at this school...Do you sleep? A circle of I don't know, and I don't care, and what the hell is a world citizen anyway, and how come they love me...and what is there to love. I keep thinking I'll change, and then I don't...is it so slow i can't see it, my metamorphasis. My mom wrote a poem about a butterfly... it should have been my life...but it was hard to see through the redundancy and I told her so and I forgot the rest. He kept saying "you never know," and that wasen't even my point.

My aunts hair blew in the wind, brillow pad flexible and my eyes lit up because she is just as bossy as ever, "yes suh!" She has unbelievably soft skin. I'm looking foward to being old just so I can touch myself. I know Ken, your project calls.

When I rolled up to SUA my stomach churned because I didn't want to be back. This is a first. All of the other times my face has smiled and my heart has been glad. My heart was happy at home. I love you so much Christina. My brain was happy at home, Stephanie, Elsa, you too. I felt like I could finally breath. Today I walked into my dorm room and the feeling I was in a gas chamber slowly came back. Why am I dying here? Why has my heart blackened around the edges and begun to flame? How can this be?

Will he be standing on a podium urging us to cheer?
Will we shine because we finally have a goal.
The structure of our city is slowly leading to decay.
We must revitilize.
We must fight against the erosion.
Dull
When I rub hard enough the crome starts to shine
imitating my eyes when lit with passion.
There is so much in me saying...no!
But I do see you and I care that you are a political being.

I am crap. Can I just sing that really loud so as everyone can hear it. Because by the worlds standards I suck. But for some reason this seems kind of humorous. There are all of these people out there who seem to have been put on the earth simply to judge. They say bad grades = death, starvation, pain. Imagine, you might have to work at a gas station for the rest of your life. Those people are less then us...I don't think so. They probably would have done better on this last test then I did. And at the end of the day what does it mean that I blank out...panick...suffer when taking a test. Does it mean the girl next to me who got an A is better? Does it mean pumping gas is in the stars for Elizabeth Dawson. Maybe that would be better then hanging out with the people who feel supirior to the Mc Donalds workers, the sweatshop kids. Maybe, you can have a whole life full of education and lack the understanding to find your way around town. Maybe Elsa's smarter then us all. Maybe I'm just trying to make myself feel better for being a complete idiot, it's true I can't spell. It's true math problems boggle my mind. It's true I should probably be in community college. I don't know why I'm here, that's for sure. I'm a waiting list queen, almost didn't get in. I'm begining to realize why. It's easy, when you got in early admission. It's easy when you didn't get contacted the month before school started. I had to think about whether I wanted to come, because my heart broke the day they rejected me. But then, low and behold, comes another letter telling me I wasn't good enough the first time, but since they had no one else I was excepted. No apologies. No sorry we took your heart out and squeezed it until it stopped beating. I've got a, you've never been good at forced academics, complex. It's real easy to say I'm being to hard on myself, heck I even say it sometimes...but the question is, who's willing to go and erase my past full of failure, full of, Ellie your state test scores say your below averge in math, and once again on the SAT's. Yeah, well the school system has failed many people. Don't talk to me about your AP classes and how you were in all of them. AP, what's that? Let's talk about the angel I made in Kindergarden, it's been on my Christmas tree for the past 15 years. Let's talk about how I have talked to bumbs at the bus station and understood their adventures. Let's talk about the trolly in Portland, and how I'm a true blue friend, and I love you. You can leave your 1300 SAT's right at the door mat, and and take off your shoes, and make yourself comfortable. Because honestly I could give a crap that you take tests well and you can do it with your eyes closed. I want to know how you feel when the sun remembers your face, and why is swimming so thereputic. I'm gonna beat myself up till the end of time for not being as good as you, beacuse I've been force fed it ever since I walked into may first grade class room. The hall is lonely when you've been sent there for talking too much. Detention isn't that much fun, and crying after every test you take starts to have it's toll. I know the red pen and it's bloody ink all to well...maybe, someday, I will introduce you.

I think I might have a chemical imbalance. That would explain so much. I feel, right now, like I did Sophmore year, sitting by the heater vent in my pajamas, crying, because the bordem was eating my insides and shredding my heart. I told my mom that night that I thought I was going to die, and ended up insulting her. She left the room angry and and I was sure my life was over. It hurt so bad, it was physical this pull. There is this string that sometimes latches to my chest and then the evil little man, that must be behind putting it there, begins to pull. He's pulling right now with all of his might trying to make me forget all of the good things.

How come when he sees me, he looks at me like it's the first time. Suprised? That I'm still here in your life. Maybe he'd like to despence of me because I'm to difficult. I'd like to do the same. The tears are right here, if you look between the spaces in my words, you'll be able to see them like diamonds floating in air. My body remembers what happy feels like, and so does my mind. What exactly can my heart do with this string? Snip. The invention of siccors, who could know?

I don't want to stop and think about how this is not working. Maybe I should forget he ever existed. Damn, but he's still here. Elsa used to get really obsessed with boys...I think I picked up a few tips unconciously.

How come I know how this picture should look, but the actual image is a blurry mess? That movie made me cry three times for innocence...lost.

I'm just a little confused. I have something to say and I've been trying to figure out all day what it is, but I don't know. I think it has something to do with my grades and how they won't matter in 5 years and why I'm going through the things I'm going through, and I never feel justified in doing anything. Live for me...because I don't know how.

I'm just gonna love you the best I can. You loving me is no longer my focus. And you should have my love because I can't help it.

If I feel hostile towards myself, how will anyone ever love me?
She said she hasn't been this depressed in a long time, and there was this huge part of me that wanted to scream, me too!
So I guess the question is, am I just supressing once again? Maybe that's my one talent...I can pretend well.
My heart broke at least three times today because I knew you wouldn't tell me how you loved me when the day was done. Because I remembered that there really is no us, and as much as I will it to be...it might always be in vain. What do you think of my desperation, because I know you can feel it, and I know it turns you off. But my eyes will never lie, and unfortunatley you can read them.
Well, I'm trying to wipe my pain from the brown, and I'm trying to go deeper so you can't see how I suffer. I'm trying to make your dis-interest easier for you. How I want to find...why I can't let this go. And her, and the dreams, and our vow to one another. You should have never let me hug you, and you should have never let me kiss the place between your ear and your neck, you should have kept your hand firmly in place until I shook it. But I stepped the boundry and you let me and it's hard to forget how I went back to my room and felt like the sunset I saw today. And it's hard to forget how I was the little girl who just had snow shoved in her face by the person she thought she loved, the next day felt just like that. Can't I forget that phone call...and how come you never call anymore. It changed I know. I know...I'm sorry. I tried to tell you before we hung up how I hoped she would make you happy, but the words wouldn't come and all I could mutter was how I had to go. I should have said it because the truth is I want you to be happy...it's this endless struggle with myself...she'd be good for him...I'd be better...But that's really not the point. Because this is not the end as much as I feel like the earth is trying it's damndist to swallow me up, and I'd go too, except I feel like there's something else I have to do. Has it really only been Three months and if this feels like 10,000 years of suffering what am I going to do when it's been a million. And that's where that pesky moment comes. Maybe I'll win...

My life and the way it really isn't:

I don't walk around at parties with my shirt somewhere anywhere but on my body.
My sister doesn't repell my friends.
My teachers do not invite me to thier houses to talk about Jimmy's being gay and the crazy orgies they've had.
Yuko does not pick up my white underwear that I droped in the middle of the class running to meet me in the rain.
Sammi and I do not fight over boys and if we did Rumiko wouldn't win.
He dosen't smoke anymore and even if he did why would he do it in the middle of a storm sopping wet with a look of displeasure on his face.
Jess and I don't go to dance classes together that have been cancelled on account of her father running for office, and oh he was a weirdo.
We don't have this amazing computor program that allows us to go to Soka while we are at home.
And if he had a preformance, why did he come running back into the room to tell me for the second time he would miss me. He left wet hand marks on my teeshirt and I could barely tell the difference between my tears and his drip
Dream!!

There's this pact I made with myself. It wasn't exactly be happy, but it was win in the moment.
Can I work you out in my head? Can I figure out why I feel hopeless when I think there will be a day you are no longer a part of my life.
Are there really other men on this planet or is it only an illusion, and why do you love her so much? Does she give you what you want. I think it's that smile, and the droopyness, and the sincerity. OK, I will retreat to friend, even though friend is no comparison. I will go home sit on my couch, happy to have escaped the image that only follows me around on campus. I will drown in MTV, and bus rides, and shopping, and then I will drown in food and my aunts blackberry cobbler. My family will create a dream that shelters me from myself and mabey for one minute I will forget to breath. Head dropping to the pillow chest still. Empty.
The plane ride home will be interesting to say the least. Me, reading about a girl I will never know, and stopping in the middle to wonder if you and I will have the same fate.
Me I think you lied.

I can see you with that bottle raised above your head, happy to be alive. What would I do if we had never met?

She said that our meeting was a serendipodus moment, a happy accident, and I knew.

But maybe he will never look at me and wonder why not.

It's not a fight I'm going to lose. There are so many paths you can follow and which ever one I stick to I will tread it joyfully, my tears a testament to my growth.

I love those that challenge me. Can I skip now?

I woke up today and was unsure of my sanity, my head felt so heavy.
It was different then usual, I can smile and mean it.
Sometimes everything falls into place and you know your heart has been altered for the better.
Are they bitter or jealous?
You have know idea how much I love you, how it hurts me when I see you across the room down trodden missing what you have never known.
I'll except my current situation and love it, and remember that redish-orange glow that keeps me hopeful.
Talk to me and I will take my heart and remodle what's there.
I'd better, remember today and how it feels to be happy.

What does it mean to fight with the voices in my head, to let the positive win over the negative? What does it mean to be good to me? This journey has already got me overwhealmed.

This weekened I sailed through my life and he told me it was beautiful. Why couldn't I believe him? She said it was like a 25 year old man looking at the little girl playing jump rope and it is. She made me role over laughing. I had three days in a row in which every event pointed towards my happiness, now I just have to follow the map that it made. Victory, winning, living, joy. I cannot deny myslef these things any longer. "Your negativity will destroy you," he said, "don't let it." And I won't.

How come it's right when you least expect it, the universe throws a bomb smash in your face and Ellie really can dance?

This world is much to harsh for me, it's a heart attack waiting to happen...soon.

If you have stared into blackness, that's what it is like. Reaching to no avail. I've tried to construct, when the promt is not provided. An impossiblity it always seems to say.

I will stare you down. I'm sorry I would have screamed, and oh, so destructive I can be when I am blinded and trying to keep myself silent.

There are two types, no actually three. Boy isn't she cute, boy isn't she smart, boy... Hmph!! I will remember to cover my mouth next time so the sobs don't escape, and my eyes and my ears and especially my heart...it's the most important for the maintenence of sanity.

How come I don't care? How come my dad is fifty-six and tells me to do my best...he went to law school, only one year left, and still he cheated on my mom,and still he did too many drugs, and still he is the best foster parent in Portland.

Hold on to that sliver of gold...maybe someday it will be a whole nugget.

I used to do cartwheels with Elsa in the field behind my Elementry School, and that was real. We would talk about how pretty the trees were, inocent, and what we would buy on our next biking trip to "The Shops," our unkempt hair playing in the wind. She cared even less then I did back then.

I had this red coat that my mom gave me. It was too large and the sleeves hung down almost as far as the ground. Brown shoes and pink socks usually sealed the deal, but ohh, did I think I was cute. I didn't just walk in Elementery School, I struted, and that was real.

How many times did I swim in grass taller then me? The lady bugs singing a silent song rocking back and forth. We let a rat free once and I thought about how it could be me.

I'm realizing now that my dreams were realities then. I've lost so much.

It's just sucking and sucking me dry.

Her house had cockroaches, and even though I would never admit it to her, they made me feel alive.

His poem was a promise

Can I hold on to paper dolls, corny ghost stories, my dads clam dip, my sisters chanting when she was only two, the mobil that hung above her bed. I swear I've seen the tooth fairy and the easter bunny also. The blood pounding in my ears, my humidifire always made dark seem so surreal, my mothers Angel, she used to sing, and now I'm crying.

What does it mean to hate your future and your present?

Horrified of the little things just slipping away.

It's out of different eyes that I see you today, so never be offended. My smile doesn't mean anything, except everything. Can I be here please. Can the pink pen on my desk not remind me of Barbie and Candice and Katie and Elsa, and how they all used to hate eachother. I had a walk in closet that seemed more haunted then useful, and that was real.

Nope, it doesn't bother me. Te quiero mucho.

Why are my hands shaking now. False assumptions can do that to a girl.

Sex, what is this mystery we virgins marvel at all the time.

Is it...

Creativity+Staying true to yourself = Courage
Abandon
nope
red
honey
sweet
bliss
crazy
sleep
awake
fried eggs
how many ways to love?
do I have to ask?
Me
My parents' common bond
a curse
I lost my head
Innocence
Lovely
Breeze
Sun stars
Health
Him
1950
1005 times better then chocolate
slip
slide
summer nights
BBQ
Spring mornigs
It's cold and that's all right
Clenched fist
Furrowed brow
is it over
help
art
that noise the waves make
low tide, high
cherries it must be
or peaches
or the fuzz on the peaches back
maybe it's the puddle outside
or the end of my hair folical. I will laugh and tears will role slowly down my face as I weigh my options. There's no hide away...it's done, and I can glow on. Hope it's like when I used to swing with my friends and lagh at the way my feet tickled the sky. I hope it's like monoploy at Katies house...no rules, just the money. Butter on hot toast, the toast is never hot enough here. I saw the spider today, with life force coursing through it's small head...is it kinda like that? I give and he takes, and then I take it all back. My aunt makes the best blackberry cobbler, my cousins and I used to pick the black berries she used. The telephone wires buzzing, the possibilities endless our hands stained purple from the juice. It must be like that.

I am constantly modifying me. When will this stop? It must be inherent. I need to relate more then I need to be true. It's always the same, my wishing for the impossible.

How come I feel five?

This school is the best and worse thing that has happened to me. In a large school I would be lost. Always asking myself the same question...what's going on. At SOKA my mental and physical growth are stunted. I walk down the path from my dorm and marvel at my being swept up in my Senior year dream. But I still can't mingle with the other people my age. I walk away from SOKA and become useless. Men outside stay away because they know somethings wrong. Maybe the overly large SOKA sweatshirt is what gives it away, or maybe it's the ID key hanging on my neck that reminds me of what I have sacraficed. Is the dictionary more interesting then a person's experiences. Meaningless words, contradictions, I could be gaining a key to my future. I have to wipe away the fear. Birds of a feather can really be cruel.

I was laying in my bed wondering why I am who I am...and it's still a mystery. I don't think I have become comfortable in my maturity yet. Uncomfortable = obnoxious.

I have to leave this place soon. Or I will forever forget Elizabeth. It's always Ellie, or Liz, or spran..."call me what you want"...that way you will never know. I can't say exactly what I want to. My heart puts limitations on my words. How come I didn't say that the rain washed it all away. How come I didn't make a point to mention how beautiful Daito looked today. When I can say the things that I feel...that will be the day I come alive.

Yeah...I'd follow you to the end of the earth and I'm just going to have to live with that.

Maybe he is interested. He has a family...that's the only problem. How scary am I.

Is pregnancy worth it. How does that happen?

My family is going to eat it up. They always have been the black sheep. Addition. I love her and I already love the baby. Didn't I mention a few days ago...you never know. She didn't anticipate this...she loves him...told me she had never felt that way about anyone before. It's different this time Elizabeth...truly. The baby will cry, and she will cry, and he will cry..maybe leave...maybe I will love the baby more then him. My dad told me, happy it wasn't me. It won't ever be me...but...look above.

Is it going to rain or is the sky going to stare me in the face teasing. I get the joke...isn't it over yet. I need it...to feel cold drops one after the other splash on my eyelashes, my fingertips, my ankles. It's ok that way. It was raing, hard, one afternoon in the fall. I had just finished a book that made me cry because of the love I didn't have. I put on my sweater and sat on the porch for an hour remembering myself. When the rain finally subsided to a light drizzle, I went back into the house and smiled at my mom who was making dinner for the first time in a long time.

Elsa and I were in this large bed between three windows. Window to the front, by our heads. Window to the left at Elsa's side and window to the right at mine. It was as if the Gods decided to give us a gift. Wind howling, thunder boombing, the light illuminating Annettes face. The rain didn't just pour it cried. It was like a grown woman sobing for her loss. The husband she always wanted. Or a man at his childs death bed. The whole storm I smiled, wishing it would never end, and when it did I slept without dreams, already having had one come true.

What makes me feel good...can't think about the awful much longer. It will kill my spirit, so here it goes.

Justin Timberlakes new CD. How can I explain..there are no words.
Mysteries
Secrets
Him...so that's why I must salvage.
My sister
Remebering that I was once free
I will be free again
This isn't eternity
Getting off campus and realizing how many human beings there are to love.
Marcia my counsler
My dad's cooking...means so much love
My mothers lap
Alonzo...he jumped once because he was so excited
How come Elsa's so cool?
Music gets into my soul
It shouldn't
I lose control
Dances
J-crew...comfort
My expressivness
You know
Politics...there are so many possibilities
Walt Whitman...can I cry now?
Grandma...she knew
My new pants
The closed fisted hugs. I mean those ones.
Vulnrability
Book...me
It won't stop
Forty years from now I will still cry
It feels like good times
...

Random thoughts from math. Math is really evil.

I'm trying to fight it. I've been trying in my productivity, in my overcheer, in my stuffing of the face. I think that fruit was a revelation...it's the only thing that I have. Fruit, stupid, unfortunate. Where's my Grandma? I can't stand it anymore. I wish I could cry...that would make it hurt more. If I started I would never stop.

I'm not going to worry so much about making sense. Lying on the floor loves my heart. I think the floor could keep me forever and that's better. The bees outside were just doing there thing, the flowers are all they care about.

He keeps talking like I care. He keeps talking like my life is not in ruins. He keeps talking and all I want to do is fling something at his head. I would do it too if I got desprate enough. I would scream and make me listen to it.

My sister and I have something in common. Now I've regressed to where she is. Growing pains. Sympathy pains. Hell it hurts. My sweater is too small and no one cares. I made this huge effort to do my hair today and no one cares. The fog really sucks.

I feel faint, I feel like how big my hands are. I feel like a cloud. I'm gonna drift away. No ones gonna miss me. Divorced, engaged, in love, enraged. It's so not a possibility...has not presented itself.

Whatever!!!!! I can't help the hate. It's there when I lie on my floor, when I do my sit-ups, when I listen to the air outside my window.

My father, my mother, my sister, my security. They are hundreds of miles away and I'm about to lose it.

Maybe instead of looking at the ponds I will put my feet in them. Maybe instead of walking fast I will walk slower then the rest with my head held low and my arms limp at my sides. Then they will know how I really feel. It's so easy to hide away from me. She is a prime example of everything I can't be so I will go into the dark...My heart and stay locked.

I'm sorry. I know I have a lot but offering has become impossible. Do you know how I speak for no one??

I lifted my legs to the sky because my slippers said so. He said, I know something's wrong with her. I can tell just by the shoes she's wearing. I think he's right I think I am going loco en the cavesa. Oh well, it feels better this way. I don't have too much work like the last three weeks, so instead I will have too much crazy.

When I walk into the room feeling good I can see them watching, and I shrink.

What do they think? Help me oby wan kanoby.

I think his smile means he would date me. Yeah I shouldn't have...

But maybe the white underwear are what worked the magic. I need to become a magician.

Plastered there on my brain it is always. Sometimes I double over trying to bear it.

Ma...she misses me.

Aren't virgins awful. I know. I get to live with one twenty four hours a day and miraculously she shares my name.

I'm not fully tapped in...don't really want it.

Did you know my tongue can do a trick? Cherries.

Leave it alone and it'll come home. Where's the tail?

Maybe they will be perfect together. He'll smooth her rough edges. She will look on him as if she is seeing God for the first time and they will both cry.

My dream told me a story. Maybe it was only one of the possibilities. My phone rang twice, and it was painful to leave because I was near him.

Willow, Leif, the Canadian guy. I think she will meet more men then me and all of my other friends combined. The funny thing is she never leaves them without having learned a lesson. She is cultivating a personality out of them. They Mold a stronger woman. And I am jealous, but content.

It's that in between. I know I'm on the line. Possible is the subconcious. How can I utilize my knowledge? Would I be satisfied always on the edge?

She sat with a look of disgust plastered on her face. It seems a permanent fixture these days. She's old fashioned in a 19 year old body. I want to smile at her and have my pity show through. But she won't even look at my face. Maybe she knows I feel sorry for her. She won't have it.

Clarity. I love him.

I love how we passed. Silent. He with his cigerette, me with my water bottle. He looked happy.

The Federalist papers rustled in my backpack and my computer jutted into my spine. Something amazing happened today.

I know why...Life is so beautiful because you never know what's going to happen.

I wasn't worried about getting a new coat.

I smiled because my aunt is becoming a carpenter.

He avoided my question. He wants me to remember him as he is now.

How many ways can you sing happy birthday.

It's kind of like a blanket. Smooth. It feels like new...a start. The mist means nothing but life. The birds know more about that then me.

Maybe I will cry for it.

What if I lived each day like I had Cancer and I could only live for two more months? I would notice the ants. Their lives are very short. They know more about that then me.

Happy studying, and he laghed. At that exact moment I saw the orange one. It flapped its wings.

Kisses.

Oh, and it goes. I was in the canyon today soaring, and then I touched down.

There were two men talking outside my window. I know them. Chocolate tastes so good.

It seemed to quiet. I know our relationship is suffering. It was so huge and now it's so empty.

I can stare. I laid my head down and let it all soak in. Still nothing.

It hurt but I do it to be excepted.

Run me.

Color. Black and White. I was bored.

Touched my chin. It felt like love.

Hear I am. Everyone. Here we are.

It's Amazing how productive depression makes me.

I drew today. It felt good. It felt like soaring above the clouds. It felt like forgeting. He has these beautiful lips. I think he was wearing blush. He kept drawing my forhead, my eyebrows, my eyes...maybe the rest of my face isn't worth it. Nothing will ever end. We suffer.

Some people become content with thier suffering.

That must be the exact momet they become happy.

I hope one day I will realize I will go on forever. That thought seems too big to grasp. Profound thoughts often whisper to me in the dark. They sweep past rustling trying to distract me so I will forget. And I usually do.

The morning.
Light.
They bring me back to the tangible. If only I could find a balance between the two.

Extra sensitive...forgetting why. Smiling because I have to. I can't put my finger on the argument. When I'm over whelmed it all slips away and I panic because I can't remember why I was crying. Why do I hold on so tight. Would I drift away? Places unknown. Peter pan...she never grew up. I'm not an adult when I'm alone.

It's like BIG. Did you ever see that movie? An adult doing adult things, sobbing because the child doesn't know what's going on. Why do we put ourselves through this evolution? There is this unrelenting need to change, always nagging, pulling at our hearts, nipping at our fingertips. Go away!! Change? Why? We once were perfect. It's only that pull that jades. Is it necassary? Would I miss my friends? Would my sister fall? Would my mother weep? Would my dad regress?

What if I were to say I don't care, but in that same sentence I meant, I care about everything. What if my sister asked me a question, and instead of relating I told her she was beautiful. What if I just screamed at the top of my lungs, how damn beautiful everyone is? Would they shun me? Would you? Does misery really love company or does misery need a make over?

It feels like someone died.

I remember when my Grandma died, it took me a long time to feel like it was OK to feel good. That's how this has affected me. I start smiling and laughing and then I feel this twinge. I don't really know how to describe what it feels like. It's kind of like an emptiness or a black hole...it's that deep. It keeps me from fully apreciating the things around me. But I think I need to feel this way. I need to mourn. I told him on the phone that I would write about how this was a tragedy. It is, in a way. He said this isn't a tragedy, no one died.

But somthing did die...I just can't put my finger on what.

There are those people in life who cause you the greatest joy and the greatest pain. He's one of those people. I told him.

So, can I just say that I have no intention of throwing myself over the canyons edge. I made a pact, today, with "someone." Me and him at the end of the year. Amen. Praise the lord. He looked at it and said he'd put it on his butsidhan (why can't I spell that word?). I'm ready to work for what I want. Gonna chant and cry and change. This is for my future. This time it's going to be for everyone. Daddy got drunk and now we're both screwed. I forgave but the repercussions are still reverbarating through my heart. I'm going to stop the shaking. I'm going to scream at my pain and make it go. It's not nessacary. "Me"..."I" Gonna be a proud "I" who remembers she was once a "me". Maybe I will switch between the two at will. I want to report good news...my whole life has changed. You. Him.

It's not over.

My tears ARE bloody, they come striaght form the heart that has never been broken. I write, now, hunched, over misrable, feeling sorry for myself. Maybe we feel sorry for ourselves so others won't have to. I only cry for real when I'm alone. When there's no chance for others to feel my pain; because the wracking sobs, the heart ache would break thiers. Irrational is my middle name...I can't seem to escape my hope. It's so pitiful to sit around and hope...it gets you nowhere. so maybe I'll just turn off. On is to much to handle.

I'm crying myself a small puddle right in my lap. Wet.

I laugh and tell people it's to late. If only they knew how much I wanted to scream. I've heard that the word Fuck is an angry word and I've been saying it more then usual. I cry because I don't know if I'm worth it. I've seen others in relationships and I can see why thy're loved. I look at myself and see why I'm not. Chant and cry, what a cycle...I can relate. I read my own words and wonder when this will ever end. Will there come a day when I don't have to moan? Self confidence is just a phrase I hear, not a concept I live.

Love to hate my self...maybe I like being misrable...maybe it gives me the illusion I have something to live for.

I don't want to read the newspaper anymore. Blood, death, war, hate. Where have I been...Is this America's great legacy? Our president is like a bad recording of a cartoon show. Over and over he says the same thing. Terror must be stoped. Death...Death, not even realizing that he is a terrorist. There was a bombing and all he could think to say was, "the enemy must be stoped." No words of grief, no feeling. He's a robotic monster. All these white men, all these congress people sit up in their fancy houses, with their fancy jobs and play a sick video game with peoples lives. I don't want to hear another statement about the enemy...about the "others", we aren't even looking at ourselves. Regime changes, policies that restrict, all to promote our way of life. And what way is that? Domination? We are always in control. Can you imagine the day we lose that? American's will cringe and wonder why. The president will make long winded speeches about the greatness of our country. He will tell us not to panic, and pray for God to protect "one of the greatest nations on this green earth." And people will suffer and everyone will wounder why. I feel like nobody really knows what's going on. We are at a crossroad and humans are confused. It is obvious that we can not continue, forever to kill and destroy. Destrution depletes. But then what? What will be the thing that reminds us we only have one earth, and we're shitting all over it?

It's funny. My friend is trying to learn how NOT to be in a relationship. While I'm trying to learn HOW TO be in one.

He made this really stupid comment about soy milk, and was embaressed. It was fine with me. I said about five, different, stupid things myself. I ran around my room when I returned from our walk, embaressed, excited, hopeful.

Akward.
We were never that before now.

I don't know what to do with my hands, with my brain. I make silly jokes to hide how I feel. If he knew would he...I mean that's the thing I don't know what he would do. Did he go back to his room and wish he could take back the things that may not have impressed me. Did he listen to his music to stop thinking. Is he hopeful.

He asked me what I was going to do tonight, like maybe he would be included in my plans. I told him I was going back to my room to do homework "I don't really have to do." He said "you can get ahead." Is that what he wanted to say? I know I wasn't truthful. Can't even concentrate to do homework.

He has pictures of his ex girlfriends on his walls. Says he's learned a lot. I don't have any ex boyfriend pictures. I don't know anything. Never hurt, never been hurt. I've always been hopeful.

I don't know where to go with this. Does his acting even dorkier then usual mean he likes me. Is it still like elementry school? Either they hit you, or they tease you, or they just don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. Holding hands, sitting, huh, he was in my dream...again...

My sister said that a girl in her class is "so Ghetto." I didn't even think she knew what that word meant. She was innocent. One day I will lose her to tight jeans, overly long telephone calls and teenage angst. She'll come back, but I remember how long it took me. Maybe I'm still working on it. She relates to the word regret. She thinks I'm childish and she calls me a dork. I've learned to live with the fact that these things are true. She'll have to do the same. She eats lunch off campus with boys..."Whatever" is her new favorite word. But she still hates it when we have to hang up...She still remembers what it was like to know nothing. She told me one time that life was hard. And that I was right, everything isn't perfect. Four years ago she told me that she would never be a teenager, that she would never be depressed, that she would wear her hair the same way forever. I think she's suprised that she lied...She wears bandanas almost everyday. Are they a permanent fixture? She seems to think so...maybe she will suprise herself again. 13 is the first year. She has six more to go. I'm ready...but I think she'll be overwhelmed.

Dreams came this afternoon as I tried to escape. I tried to be a slave to my subconcious. It worked. Reality kept coimg back, asking me "what do you need to do today Ellie" "Imagine the homework." Instead Malyna danced. But sometimes she was Candice. Candice always used to tell me she would be a singer one day. She moved out, and droped out. Her mother used to beat her with a belt while I was at her house. Many tears.

Shawn had an over dose, and David didn't care. So I stayed with him, and whispered into him how I would keep him alive. He kept jerking in my arms. Hope he never does any real drugs in real...

Tim kept feeding me economic hype telling me that I was being swindled. The funny thing is he was swindled buying those how to tapes, to teach everyone what's wrong. Jealousy...and I remember Double Dare...

the show came back and I just happened to be on it swiming through the sceans in slow motion.

If ever I woke up, there was only one person I could think of. And there were quite a few things that I could think of to do in order to secure a larger relationship with him. But sleep seemed to tap me on my shoulder and remined me that I'm incapable. Must overcome that. Inside myself I am safe. Have to risk it...everything...disapointment fears me. Wait.! turn that around. Want to hold him and tell him I will keep him safe. Isn't there a "do you like me survey" I could give to boys before I jump. Rate me on a scale from 1 to 10. 10 being, I want to date you. Abstraction seems to be grabing ahold of my heart.

People and Ideas I met today

He was sexy despite his gray hair. He had one of those forever tans, that come from living near the ocean your whole life. He's an ex captin and his dog reminded me of him... Wild, free, animal.

She veered to the middle of the road a few times. I could see my mother in her eyes. Desprate, living for her son. Buying organic food, in charge of her families health. She was a pro skier for four years in the 70's. Hasen't skied now for nine years. Life is different. Children do that to you.

They are both mothers. One day they will veer too.

She is the most bueatiful 80 year old I have ever seen. Hair white, angelic. She used to party. Maybe she still does. Breast cancer tried to kill her. She said, no thanks. Now I can look at her and only imagine myself in 60 years. Maybe not so angelic, maybe not so strong.

I think he's a prophet, a seer, a sage. The doctors would say he is slower then the rest of us. Maybe I am Jazmine, who died in a car chrash. He said that I replaced her. I told him my name was Ellie. Past lives...?

Evil: Seperation, distance, chasm.

Good: Ties, togetherness, embrace

They walked, a threesom, down the path. Solem. And looked at me with disgust. Sorry I critisized.

I doubt this is gonna work lets see.

I'm haunted...

Words... emails... mis-undersatnding. Try to dance it all away. Arms touch air, twirl. Helplessness. It was all a big mistake. I feel like disaster. Not that big. Not that small. Help I'm stuck. Try to be... To angry to hate, to in love to like. Hair is messy...Do you understand? Hehe...No! But I do. This road hasen't ended yet. Objectivity impossible...that's my mission. Meetings galor...RUN. Ellie can dance...she can cry to. Dosen't "Bring me joy." Sweat forever...rivulets in the streets, imaginary blood...bleeding...no. Not really. Abstraction...the key. Holds my heart. So...What?

Thursday is that in between cool. Don't really have to care. Always caring and then thursday comes and makes life sureal. If I felt like I was going to live forever would I do the things that I wanted to do. Is it the oppisite. Maybe I do feel immortal. Time will never run out. Gonna look back and wonder. Why? I don't want to have any more regrets.
Regrets= Ballet

no love
hate
tolerance
kindness
People not deserving
no reciprocating
childhood now
responsibility
F's D's C's B's A's
spin the bottle
no participating
I don't care
I care so much
no anger
dormat
frustration

I'm all lifed out. Lifeless. Life...

Sometimes my heart breaks for no reason... I think this song is like Watermelon, and Popyes and strawberry pop. Want to keep it for ever.

Hehe. Silly goose. Well can't decide what I want. I think that I feel compelled to take care of him because he dosen't expect me to. Other boys are the boys, so they want to be taken care of. Rub my feet, listen to my problems. I want a cocktail. Yeah, shove it. But he doesn't want all those things. Calls to ask me how I'm doing. I love it. Recipricol action. I want him to be happy. Never wanted that for a boy. Only wanted them to understand how frustrating they are. He's not frustrating. This is me over analyzing and reading to much into the situation. num. homework. Bad. Love to Love...

P.S. Who's leaving?

I have to say that I have the most amazing sweetie. She is an HTML god and she helped me created my new and improved, fabulous blog. Geeeerrrrraate.

A few things to keep in mind. Does America have it's own culture, or are we a culture that steals from everyone else? Plus so distracted today. Love...

So I've noticed something. I feel panic when I don't have enough to do, which leads me to feel that I'm forgetting something, and on top of that I feel panic when I can't remember something. I wonder what this means

I can never win. Just when it seems that maybe I have overcome something, another something that sucks comes and smashes me in my head. Well I'll have the universe know I'm done. I can't handle it anymore. Good things come to people who wait. Yeah, well whoever said that must have been like 80 cause the statement just doesn't seem to hold up in my 19 year old mind. Today I would like nothing more then to go around, screaming at the top of my lungs how much it hurts when I fail, how much it hurts when he ignores me, how much it hurts when the freshman on campus look at me like I don't matter. Gum on thier shoes. Gum on my shoes. Gum is cooler then I feel. I whine a lot. Sad. Gonna listen to Stevie and relate. I can listen to songs and relate to them bette then I can relate to people. That seems wrong. This weekend I plan to go to a district meeting, go to the counsler, go play guitar, and see a movie with my uncle. How come this plan seems like every other weekened. How come my life falls into manoughtony, can't spell. I like this beacause only I have to understand what I'm thinking. Ha, wouldn't I like to know! I'm hiding from myself. Can't figure it out because that would be scary. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hey, if I can't do it in real life I'm gonna do it here. I sound like one of those mad kids I could never understand in highschool, guess that shows me how much we are alike. Different.

So I'm in the room with my friends so I'm not going to mention any names but he's always on my mind. Damn!! I try not to watch him trapes always across my mind but he manages to find a way. So I think I want to have my first relationship with him, but it's so not a possibility that it's made me cry. Whatever!! People make me mad now I'm on a totatly different subject. Is Spanish a wussy languge, and if that's true am I stupid because I am learing it. I've got to stop comparing myself. If I don't I will never feel good. I want to feel good. About me, about my body, about my ability. Can't stand my own hopelessness. Is she a horrible person, that's what my friend is asking me right now. I don't think so? Am I? I don't know, I try and tell myself, "Ellie you are great!" Usually dosen't work. I like Pralines and Cream Ice cream, I wonder what that says about my personality, maybe it means I'm cool. Can't stop writting. Ok maybe I'm done. Not gonna give up. I'm gonna keep going in life, gonna keep moving, gonna keep loving, gonna keep helping, gonna keep making something work or at least try to, gonna keep...Ahhhh!!! Hard. I think my brain came together today in American Experience class. I can use things from other classes to explain things in new classes. Can't wait to keep learning.

Hmmm? So what do you say when you don't know what's going on.