So as usual, I found myself today in a whirl of myself. Thinking and feeling and seeing.The colors stood out on my ride, brilliant gold of the grass, the green in the trees, the purple of the shadows, and the blue of the sky. The clouds are all white with fluff, and as the sun sets the edges turn gold. I’m in wonder, thanking God I’m alive to see, and that I’m aware to feel.

 Not only the world, but my mind is alive with colors. Today is a flourish of orange, but blotted with blues blacks and greys. I’m waiting and fearing and grieving today. I’m waiting for my boyfriend to send me ONE god-damned text message, for one, and I’m worrying about what will happen to us. I’m afraid.

 I smell barbecue, and see kids at soccer, and that hits a nerve like a string on my guitar. Soccer Games; I never played a sport, not one. Unless you count the two gymnastics years I took before my mom stared really dying. To be honest, I feel like my childhood had been deprived. Wile most kids went to ballet/basketball/football/soccer/gymnastics you know what I did? Sat on my ass and ate gushers wile watching Kenny the fucking Shark.

 Really? Really now? Everyone else has pictures of their kids in their uniforms, smiling and missing a front tooth. My house is naked, it seems like people only exist in it, they’re not really living. It’s painful too, once Mom let me put a hall of my drawings, I remember one. A blonde girl, red background, green shirt, blue eyes, purple necklace, in my little Kindergarden drawing skills. Oh sigh. My house used to be home and you know what that word means now? Where I reluctantly exist. I live outside, in the Summer sun. I miss it, it feels like a friend has passed away.

 What do I fear today? Everything. Worst case scenarios, crying, yes I’m scared to cry. Myself, thongs and dresses, and that I’ll never look good in one because of how fat I’ve become. I just need something, tell me what it is. Please.

 Brilliance is a curse, or is it brilliance? Is it simple sheer madness? If I could clone anyone, I’d clone myself so that my madness could be shared, my brilliant madness. That is what I am. It’s become exceedingly difficult to talk to people. “I really wonder about some of these people, you know. I wish I knew them, instead of just glimpsed them.” “….what?” Story of my life. So much goes on in my mind, it bothers me how there seems to be NOBODY who is willing to delve into the world like I do.

  In my mind, I just talk, blablabla, life, humor, depth, plans, emotions, but if these words would spill from my mouth, oh the world would be grand. Not only being able to talk, but if someone would relate. Sigh, I’m getting un-realistic. But truly, the shallow manner of humans bothers me, are they ignorant? Or simply incapable of thought? Oh, life. I loathe you. Farewell for now darlings….

You guys make my summer epic.

Dinner tonight is inside out oreos with toaster pancakes, I’m eating at 11. I want a family. Not a 1/2 assed dysfunctional family, but a real, happy one. One that goes on family trips to lakes, one that has a working father, and a stay at home mom you can tell everything. With a sibling, a protective older brother, a reliable older sister, or a cute little brother, or a silly little sister.

But no… God forbid that I have a happy family. Even if there’s a reason behind this, it hurts. Every great person I know put up with their own shitty childhood, not always shitty, just bothersome. What if I never become great though? What if I’m supposed to just be normal? I hate having all of this trapped. It’s hell but it’s so taboo. I know if I shut off my laptop and just slept I’d be okay in the morning, but I don’t want these flares of grief. It’s no longer just grief for my mom, but grief for a real family.

 Then there’s mom’s family, they’ll only accept me if I’m a certain way…. ultra Cristian. I sometimes think they expect me to be my mom, perfect. That always stings, I don’t think they’ll accept the true me, if it was anyone else, I wouldn’t care, but they’re part of my mom. I need them. I need someone just to tell me they care some days…. that never makes scene how I’m there for everyone, but I’m alone.

Sorry…

So last night I had a dream. You see there were Pirates, (MEEEEE) from Iowa, and Iowa (Witch was really where California was) were in an epic battle. T’was WAR! SO I appeared on this pirate ship/camp, with a bunch of other child pirates in desquise. I was like “We need to get to shore…. swim!” But the pussies I were with were like NOOOOOO, so I dove off, fully dressed and met some other guys on shore they were like duuuude way to go mannnnnn nice gun duuuude (because I magically had a rifle….) I was like “Heyheyhey! I’m a chick!” *Shows boobies* “Ooooooh.”

So then me and three of them ran about looking for spy intell…. but someone got suspicious and chased us, I lost him…. ish, and for some reason my bike was soooo slow! The idiot guys left me, but it was like a maze so I was always just infront of the Iowan with a gun. But I found the guys, so we ran, fast, but he got us cornered, and the guys, who had their guns just stood there watching him fire at me but his gun stalled. I was like “GUYS! SHOOT HIM!” but they were idiots so I kicked him in the face. /in brief

I think about him all the time. What he says I think about for hours. I want to talk about him, about us, about when we fight, and what I think about him. The truth is I keep chunks of my heart and head to myself, they feel so bright, or deep, or I love them so, or sometimes I just think nobody will care or understand. Sometimes I begin to talk about something branching from my locked thoughts and stop, because I realize that’s a part of me only I know.

It’s so sad, I can’t even tell my best friends some thoughts, or what’s happened to me. Like getting hit on by a 20 year old, that seems off to me. Maybe because some girls talk about shit like that, too often. I think they’re bragging. Or anything with a boy. Like getting called beautiful by someone I never met, that made me smile. I don’t feel beautiful… I feel quite the opposite, and I mean yeah, if I tell someone how I feel I want them to tell me I am, does that mean I’m talking for the attention?

Him. He’s so much on my mind…. I want to call him, and ask why, over and over. Why Jake, why am I plan C? Why is she better than me? Why do you lie to me? I mean, he’s always like calling me sexy and wanting to cuddle saying he misses me, ect. I’m unsure what I feel until he burns me… last nite he did. Today he’s ignoring me, although I did “butt dial” him, he stayed on wile we laughed and rambled. I just wanna call him and here the tone of his voice, I need the subtext. (Not just some creepy “Oh I need to hear his voice because I’m a clinger”)

Oh well, I’ve said too much. I want to say so much more.

The doorbell rang a little bit ago, I hopped up hoping it was Sarah ready for one last adventure before she embarked to California. Looking through my peephole, I saw a man wearing a red Comcast shirt with a clipboard. He knocked again, and I felt for once, after being turned away all day I should open the door. He turned around and we went through the Hello. Hi, how may I help you? Is your mom or dad home? Explaining what he sold… Bla bla bla, I explained how my Dad hates people (So does his girlfriend) and we had a nice chat about HS, people, and stuff. Short, but still. He gave me a flyer so if Dad wanted to buy it he could call. I don’t think he expects to. I like social people. :) Just, sometimes humans still have hope. So, Dan, I like you. I hope I meet more people like you, I hope I never am like my dad, and I hope you’re blessed in your life. :)

 Oh summer, never leave me.