I will write you a lullaby

I will write you a lullaby

In the last week I achieved an A in math and went through my magazine collection, and I can't decide which of those is a bigger accomplishment. I bought new boots and I love them, and I cleaned my room, and I have three new teachers this semester, and I saw "Hair" last weekend, and basically I've been all over the place.  I've been watching coverage of the situation in Egypt on the news and I've been watching people more than I usually do, maybe, and I'm trying so hard to not stereotype the stoner kid in my gov class as a stoner because there's got to be more to him than that.  I had to write down three things about myself today and it was surprisingly difficult, because even though there's so much of me in my head and in my notebooks and on the walls of my room, it's so hard to slim it down into sentences, straight facts, and write it on an index card. 

"Pretty Little Liars" annoys me because I think teachers are teachers and should be teachers, and I'm cold cold cold cold cold, and tonight I took a ten-minute nap on the sofa before dinner and I haven't been sleeping at night because I've been watching too many episodes of "Bones" lately.  I should go to sleep right now but I'm nearly done with Never Let Me Go and so I'd like to finish it tonight even though I'm feeling a bit disappointed with it, or at least with the talk that I heard about it because as of yet it hasn't broken my heart.  I want it to.  I haven't read a good book in such a long time.  Maybe this weekend I'll go to the bookstore and read for hours. 

Didn't I my dear

Didn't I my dear

I have my last three finals tomorrow and I'm worried but probably not as much as I should be. We have a three-day weekend, and I have a bit of homework and a college interview and I'm going to a musical with my mom, and I want to put up some new posters in my room, which means moving around some of my current posters and maybe buying some new frames, and I want to clean out my closet and my sock drawer, especially my sock drawer, because I was looking for socks this morning and I realized that the majority of my socks are not white, which is kind of inconvenient for wearing shoes and am I really writing about my sock collection right now?

And speaking of collections because this is how my mind works, I want to finally organize my postcards into my album, and I want to go through my magazine stash and gather the ones all around my room and put them away, and I want to finish my current roll of film because it has some pictures from the evening of formal on it and I'd like to see if they turned out, and I want to blow dry my hair because I haven't in forever. Also I want to burn some new cds and change out the ones in my car and update my iPod and my sister's as well because she's been bugging me about it, and I want to read, a lot, and finish Never Let Me Go and maybe figure out what it's talking about.

There are a zillion movies I want to watch and a zillion tv shows to catch up on and a load of books I want to read and I want to drive around with my sister singing Taylor Swift as loud as we can. Being at the same school with Gilly now, I spend so much more time with her and I keep finding myself thinking about how lonely it's going to be for the both of us when I'm not here next year.

Spit out your lies and chewing gum

Spit out your lies and chewing gum

I keep starting posts and not writing them and coming back to them and staring at the song lyrics I've put into the titles and not writing anything and now I'm back here again thinking that maybe I can't blog because as much as everything seems to suck right now and most of the time I know that it actually doesn't. I've made it a priority over the past year, as horrible as this sounds, to fill my life with things that make me happy and things that don't stress me out and to get rid of things that don't those fit qualifications. Today my sun-shaped 10-happy-things-a-day calendar had "new episodes of your favorite TV shows" on it and also "pretzel sticks" and I love both my favorite TV shows and pretzel sticks because they're unexpected.

I'm sitting here listening to "Be Here Now" by Ray LaMontagne and my dash is filled with pictures of Paris, which is my future home, at least I keep telling people it is in the hope that that will make it truer, and when I'm there I'll call Ray the Mountain. In two weeks I'll be out of my least favorite class and in half a year I'll be somewhere new where people maybe will consider that right and wrong aren't black and white.

This morning Gilly and I were driving to school and I said, "I hope they play P!nk this morning" and then the current song ended and my new favorite P!nk song came on, which I think is confirmation that I'm psychic and can occasionally control the radio, and that sometimes things happen just because they really really need to. I can't organize my thoughts right now and I seem to have ended my love affair with the comma but I guess it's good that I have thoughts to put down in the first place. I've been writing a lot lately, knock on wood and bite my tongue, and none of it makes any sense or means anything but it's fun and it helps me sleep better.

And I'm not sleeping now

And I'm not sleeping now

I started a blog post on Thursday night and then didn't post it, which is okay because it didn't say much of anything. I don't have much of anything at all to say right now, actually. It's a three-day weekend and tonight I watched the Golden Globes, which made me happy since awards shows always make me happy because they remind me of my long-buried dream of being an actress or at least being a part of that world, and tomorrow I'm finishing up my homework and volunteering at the foodbank and I haven't done anything this weekend besides sleep and cut things out of magazines and get glue all over my hands.

I have this secret dream of being an artist, which I guess probably isn't so secret to anyone who reads these posts or actually talks to me.  I guess I'm so amazed by these people who can create something out of nothing, or who can take something so nothing and turn it into something amazing.  There's a line in a Bukowski poem about Van Gogh and being too talented to make money and, oh my God, people who are that astounding, just astound me.  I don't like reading Shakespeare very much, but I like Shakespeare the person, or rather Shakespeare the character who has been formed out of centuries of speculation and evidence and opinions and guesses and rumors, the man who somehow came up with all this magic that's timeless and beautiful and has inspired so much of what has become classic.    

I'm not sure that makes any sense.  I've been having that problem lately, not being able to get what's in my head onto paper, or keyboard I guess, in a way that it's clear.  I think I'm thinking so much that I can't even understand myself anymore.

I don't love him, winter just wasn't my season

I don't love him, winter just wasn't my season

I finished The Perks of Being a Wallflower a few days ago, and I thought I was going to love it and connect with it so much and the first forty pages made me feel like crying because Charlie's everything I am and everything I'm afraid of being, but then I finished the book and I was kind of disappointed because I feel like I've moved past the point (like this time last year maybe) where this book could've been my crutch and my support and the only thing I needed. 

There are three red Starbursts lined up on my desk, and my car keys and my ipod and my glasses case, which is this strange maroon shade, and I keep making these lists in my head with titles like "things I think every day" and "things I want you to know" and "things I'm always running out of" and "things I walked into today" but I can only ever think of one bullet point and so instead I'm making lists in my head of titles of lists and mostly I'm thinking that if I'm thinking like this maybe the benadryl I took last night hasn't warn off yet.

I wish I could write things that mean things and aren't just words in rows and lines and I wish I could write like I do in English essays all the time because wouldn't it be better if you could understand what I'm writing saying thinking right now? 

In some forgotten space where the envy and the hate swim around in figure eights

In some forgotten space where the envy and the hate swim around in figure eights

I think I'm getting sick and I feel absolutely dreadful, which I just wrote in a British accent, in case you couldn't tale.  I'm done with gen 1 of "Skins" and it's breaking my heart because Cassie ran away to New York and Chris' dad won't let his friends come to the funeral but they crashed it and Sid followed Cass to New York and isn't it funny that two of my favorite characters ever are named Sidney?

I just rewatched the finale of "The OC" and it made me so happy even though I feel ridiculous, and it made me sad too but not as sad as "Skins" did, and tomorrow I'm painting my nails and getting my hair cut and hopefully going to formal, unless I wake up feeling like I'm dying, but I really hope that doesn't happen because I really love my dress.  Today I drove home alone and sang along to "Who Owns My Heart", which my sister doesn't let me do because she hates Miley, which I think is due more to a lack of exposure than actual hate, which bothers me because I think you have to experience something to really have an opinion about it.  But anyhow it made me happy despite feeling gross and all this stupid stress and the apps I still have to finish and everything else. I hate when people ask me to defend the things that make me happy.   

I should go to sleep now because I don't think I've made any sense and I all I've done is fall in love with Sidneys and use a lot of commas.  I do like commas but only sometimes not always.

Another moment is a moment away

Another moment is a moment away

I've gotten it into my head that you have to have goals for long-term happiness but you have to have short-term happiness too because if you don't then the only thing you've got is that one thing that you want, that you need, that you're working toward, but there's always the possibility that you won't get it, and then where will you be?  Short-term happiness is Ke$ha concerts and favorite songs and reading a book for the first time and Van Gogh paintings and writing words I can't get out of my head on my fingers during class.  It's not like me to be stress-free but I'm trying so hard to be less anxious, because even though in the moment nothing matters more than whatever matters the most, in the long run, in the end whenever the end is, it won't matter at all. 

School starts again tomorrow and I know this feeling is only temporary because I definitely didn't feel like this two days ago when I was awake at one am feeling like everything was falling apart but I'm going to try to hold onto it and I guess I have this idea that I can be who I want to be if I want it enough and I don't need validation from anyone else to do what I want to do or be who I want to be.  I have all these role models and I admire them because they're individuals but I can't help but wonder if I can have role models and heroes and idols and still be an individual. 

And sometimes I feel like there's nothing new to feel, like how can I be an individual if everything's already been thought and said and done by someone else before me?  I have this fascination with song lyrics and words that aren't my own and how can words really be someone's anyway?  Every time I write a blog post I listen to three or four or dozens of songs before I hear the write words for the title, and sometimes I stare at the blinking cursor for ten minutes before I can put the words in my mind into the right order and type them and then do they become my words?  It's so bizarre, the idea of possession, how we have to give everything ownership, because otherwise it's uncomfortable and unstable and doesn't feel right. 

I'm just rambling again and I'm trying to forget that there's school tomorrow and that I'm going to have to drive my car even though I haven't driven it in more than a week and I really like conjunctions today.