So, I keep thinking about New Mexico, and all the things that are standing in my way. I'm finding, increasingly, that the persons concerned are completely inconsiderate of me...so why the hell do I care?
...I don't think I do, anymore.
Work was hell, today. There have been days where I wanted to quit, but what bothered me more than anything today wasn't the frustration, or even the ridiculously high stress level. It was the fact that my boss didn't warn me, didn't help, and did nothing to alieve the stress. She just sat around and watched me freak out. It was so hard, today, and she wouldn't help, she didn't do ANYTHING. And I was so frustrated, I just wanted to cry, and Ash did too. It sucked.
This is the woman I'm worried about offending? I'm going to put the kabosh on my summer plans to help her, when she won't help me? Why do I care? Why am I worried about her, when she obviously doesn't care about me, or my health?
And then there's my friends. I'm supposed to go to Assateague with them, but lately I'm like...why? Lyss blows me off for Colton all the time, no one else really knows me...why is it worth it, to me? They asked what times were good, I said early June, and it was like ''oh, no! too cold!' I figured if I went before school got out, Maureen wouldn't miss me, and it wouldn't really count as vacation time, so I could do both. But seriously? If they're not willing to work, why ask? Why bother pretending to care about my opinion, if you don't?
So, screw them. If it doesn't work out, I'm not going to bother. I'm just going to take August off of work, or whatever, and skip out on Assateague if I have to, and do what I want, for a change, instead of worrying about people who don't consider my feelings, or wants, or needs. Seriously, I'm just done.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
too
Maybe I am too far gone -
too broken,
overprotective of these
slivers of heart
held tightly in my
palms.
too angry,
simmering in my
own fury,
saturated,
marinated in
frustration and hatred.
too sad,
mourning years of words
I left unspoken,
hands never reached for,
the love I kept locked in
for fear that it would bleed
away-
Maybe I am too much
for you.
Maybe I always will be.
too broken,
overprotective of these
slivers of heart
held tightly in my
palms.
too angry,
simmering in my
own fury,
saturated,
marinated in
frustration and hatred.
too sad,
mourning years of words
I left unspoken,
hands never reached for,
the love I kept locked in
for fear that it would bleed
away-
Maybe I am too much
for you.
Maybe I always will be.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
giant's despair
so, sunday night chad kidnapped me, and tried to take me to Giant's. He couldn't find it, though, and evewn when I helped him, it was too foggy and slippery and scary. So, we didn't go, which was probably for the better, but still, just the idea....it was so sweet, and spontaneous. I was so, so happy.
I love Giant's Despair. I think part of it is just the name. What does that mean? Why is the giant despairing? 'Cause if I were a giant, I wouldn't be upset! I'd stomp around, and make people do my bidding. I'd eat trees and stuff, and be like 'rawr! om, nom nom nom!'. It would be awesome.
But then, I think about the actual place...it's a cliff, basically, that overlooks all of Wilkes-Barre. When you sit there, you feel so tiny, and the world feels so big...in a good way. Like there is all this beauty, all these possibilities, and you are only covering a corner, only seeing the tiniest speck of the picture. But a giant would never feel like that...you could never dangle your feet over a precipice, or feel insignificant, or have the city splayed out beneath you, far, far away. You wouldn't have to dream of someday seeing the world, because you could swim the ocean in a few minutes and get to China, or whatever, and be all like 'woah! China, and stuff!'....So eventually, there would be nothing left to discover, nothing more to achieve.
What happens, when you accomplish everything? When you have seen everything, know everything....so often, we see the impossibility of knowing everything, or achieving all of our goals as a bad thing, but what if it's a blessing? What would life be like, if you did everything you wanted to? What would you do, when you were done?
Maybe I will never be completely satisfied with life. Maybe there will always be more to learn, more to accomplish, more to see. And yeah, I'm tiny, and I can't do much....but the mounds of things to be done, and my own tiny, insignificant self...that's what keeps me growing, you know? I have so much I want to do, but I need to be a bigger, better person in order to do all of it, or in order to do it well...so I grow, and I change, and I move along. I will never outgrow the world, or find that there's nothing left for me to do; I will always have oppertunities and mountains to climb, oceans to explore. I am tiny, and I am not despairing.
I love Giant's Despair. I think part of it is just the name. What does that mean? Why is the giant despairing? 'Cause if I were a giant, I wouldn't be upset! I'd stomp around, and make people do my bidding. I'd eat trees and stuff, and be like 'rawr! om, nom nom nom!'. It would be awesome.
But then, I think about the actual place...it's a cliff, basically, that overlooks all of Wilkes-Barre. When you sit there, you feel so tiny, and the world feels so big...in a good way. Like there is all this beauty, all these possibilities, and you are only covering a corner, only seeing the tiniest speck of the picture. But a giant would never feel like that...you could never dangle your feet over a precipice, or feel insignificant, or have the city splayed out beneath you, far, far away. You wouldn't have to dream of someday seeing the world, because you could swim the ocean in a few minutes and get to China, or whatever, and be all like 'woah! China, and stuff!'....So eventually, there would be nothing left to discover, nothing more to achieve.
What happens, when you accomplish everything? When you have seen everything, know everything....so often, we see the impossibility of knowing everything, or achieving all of our goals as a bad thing, but what if it's a blessing? What would life be like, if you did everything you wanted to? What would you do, when you were done?
Maybe I will never be completely satisfied with life. Maybe there will always be more to learn, more to accomplish, more to see. And yeah, I'm tiny, and I can't do much....but the mounds of things to be done, and my own tiny, insignificant self...that's what keeps me growing, you know? I have so much I want to do, but I need to be a bigger, better person in order to do all of it, or in order to do it well...so I grow, and I change, and I move along. I will never outgrow the world, or find that there's nothing left for me to do; I will always have oppertunities and mountains to climb, oceans to explore. I am tiny, and I am not despairing.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
books?
I have money. I am going to buy things...I am going to go to B& N with a big, fat list of books I want, used my $25 gift card, and pay cash for the difference. I am going to buy my skinny jeans and a sweater hoodie, and I am not going to worry about my $35 gift card not covering it...I am going to buy craft supplies, I am going to shop, shop, shop.
Why?
Because i have money, now.
Why?
Because i have money, now.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
sleeep
I woke up at 10:24 today, which shouldn't be something to be excited about, but it issssssssssss! Every day, I have woken up at 10:30, and changed my alarm so that it wakes me at 11, and then laid in bed until way after 11. But today? Nosirree bob! 10:24 came, and I sprung out of bed like a little...spring.
It will be a good day today. I have decided.
It will be a good day today. I have decided.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
I suck at this
..I am not a good older sister.
I feel awful. Katelynn and Sabrina are easy. I tickle them, read with them, have a few conversations with them, and we're good. But Erin annoys me. everything she does, says....everything grates on my nerves.
She has almost no personality. I know I shouldn't compare her to me...that I'm weird, or whatever. When I was her age, though....I had read 'A Christmas Carol', and 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' a bazillion times. I was trying to read 'Jane Eyre' and 'Great Expectations'....I WAS reading Jack London, and I adored him, every last bit. But she won't read anything. She reads these tiny American Girl books, 60 pages, and brags to me...and I'm like ' so what?'...only I pretend to be impressed, 'cause i'm not THAT much of a jerk. And she loves High School musical and Hannah Montana, because she sees other girls her age who like them, so she figures she should too, even though she's never seen any of them. And she says that non-christian music and dancing are bad, because that's what my mom says, and so she figures she should too. But where is Erin? Is there anything beneath all the pretentious annoyingness? Who IS she?
The other day, Matt and Erika were over playing their wii....Jason and Anna have a wii as well, they brought it on vacation with us. And Erin has played it once, maybe twice in her life...and she spent the whole time telling my brother what to do, and how to play, even though she didn't really know. My little sister is THAT KID - the one who talks about movies she walked into the room when her parents were watching, as if she knows the whole plot line. The one you don't really want to sit down at your lunch table, who does anyway. The one who calls you her friend, when you've only spoken to her twice, maybe. That's who my little sister is, and I am ashamed to admit that I can't stand to be around her much, either.
I feel like I should try to bond with her...but if I let her wathc me play sims, she gets really bossy, and tells me where I should go and what I should do. Or if I take her shopping, she tells me what I should buy, and that she thinks everything I pick out is ugly, and that I shouldn't, shouldn't, shouldn't. And she narcs to my mom, so I can't trust her, and she judges EVERYTHING by those perfect standards my mother holds that I will never live up to...so when she's with me, it's like I'm failing her, too, by not being pious enough or pretty enough or skinny enough or big-breasted enough. I can't stand to be around her for more than an hour.....I am such a bad older sister.
I feel awful. Katelynn and Sabrina are easy. I tickle them, read with them, have a few conversations with them, and we're good. But Erin annoys me. everything she does, says....everything grates on my nerves.
She has almost no personality. I know I shouldn't compare her to me...that I'm weird, or whatever. When I was her age, though....I had read 'A Christmas Carol', and 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' a bazillion times. I was trying to read 'Jane Eyre' and 'Great Expectations'....I WAS reading Jack London, and I adored him, every last bit. But she won't read anything. She reads these tiny American Girl books, 60 pages, and brags to me...and I'm like ' so what?'...only I pretend to be impressed, 'cause i'm not THAT much of a jerk. And she loves High School musical and Hannah Montana, because she sees other girls her age who like them, so she figures she should too, even though she's never seen any of them. And she says that non-christian music and dancing are bad, because that's what my mom says, and so she figures she should too. But where is Erin? Is there anything beneath all the pretentious annoyingness? Who IS she?
The other day, Matt and Erika were over playing their wii....Jason and Anna have a wii as well, they brought it on vacation with us. And Erin has played it once, maybe twice in her life...and she spent the whole time telling my brother what to do, and how to play, even though she didn't really know. My little sister is THAT KID - the one who talks about movies she walked into the room when her parents were watching, as if she knows the whole plot line. The one you don't really want to sit down at your lunch table, who does anyway. The one who calls you her friend, when you've only spoken to her twice, maybe. That's who my little sister is, and I am ashamed to admit that I can't stand to be around her much, either.
I feel like I should try to bond with her...but if I let her wathc me play sims, she gets really bossy, and tells me where I should go and what I should do. Or if I take her shopping, she tells me what I should buy, and that she thinks everything I pick out is ugly, and that I shouldn't, shouldn't, shouldn't. And she narcs to my mom, so I can't trust her, and she judges EVERYTHING by those perfect standards my mother holds that I will never live up to...so when she's with me, it's like I'm failing her, too, by not being pious enough or pretty enough or skinny enough or big-breasted enough. I can't stand to be around her for more than an hour.....I am such a bad older sister.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
southern train
I keep listening to Gracious Melodies (Stone Temple Pilots album) over and over...it's the only CD I own that isn't too scratched to play in the sunfire. so...yeah. today I listened to 'interstate love song' a million times. There's this one line -
'promises of what I seemed to be
only watched the time go by'....
I love that line. 'promises of what I seemed to be'....could that apply to my life any more? Seriously?
Although, my favorite has got to be pretty penny. If anything captures the way I felt this summer, this song has got to be it. When I first heard it, it was like hearing my own heart, singing to me...kinda bizarre, but:
have you seen your mother, girl?
has she gone away?
gone away and found the pearl
but the price she paid...
gone
when you wake in the morning
gone
when you find that there's no one sleeping
gone
pretty penny was her name
she was loved and we all will miss her.
how far will you go, I say
just to bait a mouse?
shorter lived and longer gone,
can you figure out?
gone
when you wake in the morning
gone
when you find that there's no one sleeping
gone
pretty penny was her name
she was loved and we all will miss her
have you lost your sister, girl?
she's all but blown away
blown away and lost the pearl
and the price she paid.
gone
when you wake in the morning
gone
when you find that there's no one sleeping
gone
pretty penny was her name
she was loved and we all will miss her.
'promises of what I seemed to be
only watched the time go by'....
I love that line. 'promises of what I seemed to be'....could that apply to my life any more? Seriously?
Although, my favorite has got to be pretty penny. If anything captures the way I felt this summer, this song has got to be it. When I first heard it, it was like hearing my own heart, singing to me...kinda bizarre, but:
have you seen your mother, girl?
has she gone away?
gone away and found the pearl
but the price she paid...
gone
when you wake in the morning
gone
when you find that there's no one sleeping
gone
pretty penny was her name
she was loved and we all will miss her.
how far will you go, I say
just to bait a mouse?
shorter lived and longer gone,
can you figure out?
gone
when you wake in the morning
gone
when you find that there's no one sleeping
gone
pretty penny was her name
she was loved and we all will miss her
have you lost your sister, girl?
she's all but blown away
blown away and lost the pearl
and the price she paid.
gone
when you wake in the morning
gone
when you find that there's no one sleeping
gone
pretty penny was her name
she was loved and we all will miss her.
Monday, January 4, 2010
pretty
I am not a pretty girl . I'm not being self-hating, or anything...it's just a fact. I can't speak Chinese, I have cerebral palsy. I'm not pretty.
I don't even know why it's so important to me. I mean, I have this small selection of pretty great qualities working for me, when I decide to not be a bitch, and I can be quite the lovable little lady. My whole life, I've been the smart one. Jason was the logical one, and Matt was the talented one - he never practiced soccer or piano, but outshone Jason and I in each, respectively. The only thing I've ever seen Matt work for was his pilot's license...but that came pretty easy, too.
Lisa was the pretty one. My sister is, in a word, breathtaking. Everything about her is pretty. And maybe, maybe if you know me, I guess, and you love me enough to look past the mannish cut of my brow and the sharpness of my jaw and that weird hollow in my cheeks that makes me look like a starving bag lady, you can find a prettiness, a sort of charm. I will never, can never come close to my sister's beauty, though. Flawless black hair and a tiny waist, wide hips, perfect curves, almond-shaped black eyes and a bright, sweet smile....when I would stand next to her, I looked so short and dumpy, with this awful face that looked like someone had beat it with a brick. Everywhere we went, boys would stare and mothers would comment 'oh, she's so beautiful. she should be a model. you'll never have trouble finding a man for that one.'
And me? My mother would throw a few test scores around, and I would promptly be told to go read a dictionary instead of that pointless fiction book, because a brain like mine shouldn't be wasted. I could do partical physics in front of their very eyes; they would never be as stunned by my mind as they were by her beauty.
I have filled my sister's empty shoes in a million ways. I've taken up her chores and become the older-sister figure to the kids....I do what I can. But I'm not pretty. I can't take the beauty place, I can't be the stunner. Everyone in my family is so damn skinny and so damn pretty, and I feel like some sort of monster, with my stupid chunky thighs and my boobs and my stomach, and my stupid ugly man face. I've never looked like I belonged, but now that the space where the pretty one is gaping open, I feel even worse, because I can't fill it. I can do her chores and play that supporting, shut-up-and-listen role, but I can't make myself pretty. The more I try, the more aware I become that I'm not, and that my mother thinks Erin is prettier, that everyone is jumping down to the next person, skipping right over me because I am not a beautiful skinny perfect Gray. And even though I'm smart, and loving and successful, I am not pretty, and that makes me of less value to them, even if they won't say it. How dare I ugly up their family photos. How dare I fattify their portraits. How dare I be honest, and not pretend that my sister is the only thing that's wrong with this family.
I don't even know why it's so important to me. I mean, I have this small selection of pretty great qualities working for me, when I decide to not be a bitch, and I can be quite the lovable little lady. My whole life, I've been the smart one. Jason was the logical one, and Matt was the talented one - he never practiced soccer or piano, but outshone Jason and I in each, respectively. The only thing I've ever seen Matt work for was his pilot's license...but that came pretty easy, too.
Lisa was the pretty one. My sister is, in a word, breathtaking. Everything about her is pretty. And maybe, maybe if you know me, I guess, and you love me enough to look past the mannish cut of my brow and the sharpness of my jaw and that weird hollow in my cheeks that makes me look like a starving bag lady, you can find a prettiness, a sort of charm. I will never, can never come close to my sister's beauty, though. Flawless black hair and a tiny waist, wide hips, perfect curves, almond-shaped black eyes and a bright, sweet smile....when I would stand next to her, I looked so short and dumpy, with this awful face that looked like someone had beat it with a brick. Everywhere we went, boys would stare and mothers would comment 'oh, she's so beautiful. she should be a model. you'll never have trouble finding a man for that one.'
And me? My mother would throw a few test scores around, and I would promptly be told to go read a dictionary instead of that pointless fiction book, because a brain like mine shouldn't be wasted. I could do partical physics in front of their very eyes; they would never be as stunned by my mind as they were by her beauty.
I have filled my sister's empty shoes in a million ways. I've taken up her chores and become the older-sister figure to the kids....I do what I can. But I'm not pretty. I can't take the beauty place, I can't be the stunner. Everyone in my family is so damn skinny and so damn pretty, and I feel like some sort of monster, with my stupid chunky thighs and my boobs and my stomach, and my stupid ugly man face. I've never looked like I belonged, but now that the space where the pretty one is gaping open, I feel even worse, because I can't fill it. I can do her chores and play that supporting, shut-up-and-listen role, but I can't make myself pretty. The more I try, the more aware I become that I'm not, and that my mother thinks Erin is prettier, that everyone is jumping down to the next person, skipping right over me because I am not a beautiful skinny perfect Gray. And even though I'm smart, and loving and successful, I am not pretty, and that makes me of less value to them, even if they won't say it. How dare I ugly up their family photos. How dare I fattify their portraits. How dare I be honest, and not pretend that my sister is the only thing that's wrong with this family.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
only wish
My heart is in my throat right now, because I miss you. Because three and a half years is so long, and we have spanned a thousand lifetimes, dozens of deaths and ressurections, in that time. That last night is always the worst, when there are no more excuses to stay awake, and all that's left is to wait for morning, when you'll be ripped from me...
And I know Andrews is important. I wish...I wish you could feel it, the way I do. It is so hard to do this on my own, to leave you when you want so badly for me to stay, and when I can't imagine what it will be like to have you ripped even further from me, to be the cause of my own pain...but it is so vital to me, so important to get out of this God-forsaken town, and free myself from the angry liar I've become. I want to be alive again, I want to laugh and sing all the time, instead of only when I'm sleep-deprived. I used to be that way all the time, but that girl died long before you met me....but if given the chance, I'd bring her back. Can you understand that? I want you to understand, and to feel it, and to really get it...that I am not chosing me over you, in that way, that I don't want to leave you....I fear so strongly what I will become if I don't go.
I will miss you so much. It breaks my heart to think of it, but at that same time....I'm so excited. Couldn't you do just one happy dance with me?
And I know Andrews is important. I wish...I wish you could feel it, the way I do. It is so hard to do this on my own, to leave you when you want so badly for me to stay, and when I can't imagine what it will be like to have you ripped even further from me, to be the cause of my own pain...but it is so vital to me, so important to get out of this God-forsaken town, and free myself from the angry liar I've become. I want to be alive again, I want to laugh and sing all the time, instead of only when I'm sleep-deprived. I used to be that way all the time, but that girl died long before you met me....but if given the chance, I'd bring her back. Can you understand that? I want you to understand, and to feel it, and to really get it...that I am not chosing me over you, in that way, that I don't want to leave you....I fear so strongly what I will become if I don't go.
I will miss you so much. It breaks my heart to think of it, but at that same time....I'm so excited. Couldn't you do just one happy dance with me?
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)