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.