My brain works in mysterious ways. Right now it is fond of the soft light of my room and the colors reflecting off of mirrors and hidden things stuffed away in corners. There are secrets and regrets shoved in every direction from where I sit, and, while I look at them everyday, I am never afraid. I realize now, that for whatever reason I told you I loved you, I never showed you who I really was. Was I that girl? The one with the chains and the lack of restrictions. The one with open wounds and salt-shaker in hand. I was never her no matter how badly you wanted me to be. I never showed you my room, my space. My bed never touched the soft skin of your back. My pillow never felt the gentle resting of your head. Your curls never graced the back of my chairs. Cant you see? I never let you in. I never loved you. I was naive; a crazed teenage girl with a sick infatuation, and that's it. That's all it ever was.

I am made up of so many little pieces collected from train stations and the posts of bed frames.

I have a love-hate relationship with my life. At one moment, I can be content and as happy as the waves when they meet the shore, but then I can switch completely and I start remembering everything you ever did to me. Your long fingers and the way you swept your hair out of your eyes. I hate everything about you, especially how you left me to rot in my own misery. I loved you. I loved your luster for life, I loved your infectious laugh. You used to make me smile, now you just make me punch my pillow in anger wishing my fists were hitting your face. How could you? How could you just walk away? I was putty in your hands, you could have molded me into something beautiful, but instead you made me ugly. Ugly and cold and bitterly hating your memory.

I can hardly sleep at night with your face so deeply etched into the back of my eyelids. You haunt my every dream, and I often awaken with clenched fists and a tight jaw. How could you? How could you just walk away? My bones ache for your affection, my fingertips long for your skin.

How could you?

How could you just walk away?

Wow so my father just took away my medication because he thought I was going to kill myself over my current living situation. Really? Fucking, REALLY? That hurts. Hurts deep. Thank you very fucking much for your concern, but this just proves how much you DON'T KNOW ME. I'm over that shit, okay? I did my time getting my head fixed and I don't appreciate what you're trying to do here. From now on, I will control my medication, and you will leave me the hell alone. Goodnight.

Getting this on my skin as soon as possible.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PARKER MOODY! lovelovelove forever and ever!

I want to create art so powerfully that I am left raw and open. I want to pour my everything into each piece and then maybe I wont feel so heavy. I want to put my body and mind through hell so I can truly appreciate what it means to be beautiful. I want to learn from everything I've done and then keep doing it. I want to experience pain, cruelty, and loss. I want to mourn through art and expression. I want to tear off my own skin just to expose what is underneath.

So I was going to write a post filled with cynicism and self-loathing, but then a good friend and I started a webcam chat and all the bad shit went away. I love when that happens. When a friend just knows what you need when you don't even tell them. I've missed him terribly as well, and seeing his face reminded me that people really do care. I was going to write about how the only person you'll ever have is yourself, but I no longer find that to be true. I believe that there are people out there, whether they're coming into your life or are packing up and leaving, that will change how you think and how you see the world. I was terribly depressed; ready for a night of broken sleep and tears, when I saw his smile, heard his laugh, and was brought back to the time where nothing big really mattered. Where responsibilities were fleeting and all we cared about was each other and what could make us happy. Simple things.

Thank you, Trevor Hart. Thank you.

I bought you a book today,

but I don't think I'm going to give it to you.

You don't deserve friends like me.

Sometimes,

when my eyes get tired and fuzzy,

I think the birthmarks on my arms are little freckle-bugs crawling on my skin.

I try to scratch them off in my exhausted state,

but they are immune to my fingernails.

And as I drift off to sleep,

they become my friends.

Thumbnail moon

I'll wait for you

Day by day

I'll stay the same

You will wax

And you will wane

And the rain will fall

and the seasons change

But I will wait

I'll stay the same

Until the day

That death will claim

And I will join you in the stars

Bones.

Caged hearts, pumping valves, running blood.

Fingertips.

I've been told they have memories of us, you,

her, him, sir, ma'am.

Strings tied, loose laces, fading smiles.

Trains and buses holding hands.

I hate the way I communicate.

I'm ready to let go.

He's been there for me from the very beginning, and his kisses are soft and light. He makes me laugh when I've spent the whole day crying. I know that people hate to hear this, but without him, I am nothing. Six years of love and affection, caring and compassion; I will never leave his side.

Love is something leftover from the feeling of being"in love". When you're "in love" you're giddy and overwhelmed with excitement from a newfound attraction. Actual REAL love comes later, when all of that excitement fades and you're left with a person, raw with faults. Seeing past those faults and learning to comprehend and cope with the previously unseen baggage that everyone carries is something that takes time, effort, and communication. That's why, I hate to say it, that so many couples break up after only dating for a short time. I've done it, and maybe you have too, but finding that one person who can deal with your shit and love you despite how many tears you cry each night is like striking gold. Work through everything that bothers you, because what you can have in the long run is so much more rewarding than temporary satisfaction.

I'm writing this as if it is still before midnight. Today was a rough day, as was yesterday, and I can honestly say that crying is something that I'll never miss. City life is so much more interesting, and slightly more stressful, than living on the coast. Not as beautiful, though. Unless you're really into that whole cigarette smoke haze thing and car horns. Crossing the street makes me so nervous, especially in the city. Boston cabs are the most evil things ever put on the road. "Oh what? You want to cross the street? Too fucking bad, I'm driving!" No wonder I always reach for someones hand when I cross the street. Yeah that might be childish but at least it makes me feel somewhat safe.

I love my new shoes. Smile!

Do you ever get that feeling that you no longer have a home? Constantly I'm being haunted by a feeling of homelessness and rejection. I feel like no matter what I do I will always be wrong. I know that this isn't the case, and that no one can in fact be wrong all the time, but I guess I'm as close as it gets.

My heart aches and theres this anxiety building in my stomach. I wish I could run but I have no place to go.

I watched a show today about different types of cats and I just fell in love. Duke and Dash (my aunt and uncle's Bengals) are lovely and sweet, but they don't like to cuddle. This makes me long for my kitties back at my dad's; Simon and Sheldon. My boys.

Simon.

Sheldon.

I have decided that I can no longer live without blue raspberry soda. I know this is a major exaggeration, but I cant think of any other way to put it. My phone has been on silent all day, mostly because I was asleep, but it was still a nice feeling. Sometimes you have to take a break from the outside world, you know? Last night as I was trying to fall asleep, my limbs were so tired that they were shaking, and it felt as if someone had blown a hole through both of my kneecaps. Despite the many uncomfortable positions I put myself in throughout the night, I slept better than I had in a while. I also forgot to eat meals today. I was walking around the mall with my aunt when all of a sudden I started sweating like crazy and I felt like I was going to pass out. Let me just stress how important food really is. If you don't eat it, you will eventually wither away into nothing. Let this be a lesson to me so hopefully I can remember to eat my meals in the future.

In other news my aunt got me a new lip ring. It's swirly and I love it despite that it's a gauge smaller than what I am used to.

New thing. I've stolen this idea from a fellow blogger, and I hope she forgives me for taking it, but it is just way too good to pass up. Song of the day. Today's song of the day is Jumper by Third Eye Blind because I heard it in the car and it fit the moment so well. Today's back-up song of the day is I Want You To by Weezer because I just purchased it only moments ago.

I'm talking about myself too much and it's bothering me.

This post is going to be made up of random thoughts that I have come up with over the course of the day. I feel like if I try to make a post with some sort of sense, my brain might implode.

I guess this means that today I am thankful for free thought. Think for yourself; it's not illegal yet.

---

I watched part of a movie today where this striking woman was wearing a dress composed of only sandals in varied shades of vibrant pink.

I am now the proud owner of purple sneakers to match my purple hair and blue-raspbery-soda tongue.

I'm thinking of getting snakebites. And also a snake. I'm hoping the actual snake wont give me actual snakebites.

I am seriously considering purchasing an ABBA song on iTunes because I secretly want to be a fabulous dragqueen.

Just Like Heaven by The Cure has become the most played song on my library along with Daylight by Matt & Kim. Both are new favorites and make me extremely happy.

Drinking things out of glass bottles makes the drink, and everything else, more enjoyable.

Uma Thurmans collarbones are sexy even though she is slightly terrifying.

My heart feels like its being ripped out through my throat. I promised myself that I would never let another persons feelings make me feel this way again, and yet, here I am wishing I could read minds.

So pack up the bags to beat back the clock
Do I let her sleep or should I wake her up?
You said,
"We both go together if one falls down."
Yeah right,
I talk out loud like you’re still around.

I'm going to try something new. Everyday I am going to name something that I am thankful for, and then write about it. Hopefully this will keep me motivated to update more often.

Today I am thankful for my family.

My family consists of many strange folk throughout the US and now Ireland and soon Australia. I love each and every member of my family, and I am beginning to learn that they are no more perfect than I am. I used to believe that I was the black-sheep of the family, I thought I was the one that everyone was ashamed of. However, I have recently learned that that is not so. I am loved and cared about by everyone in my family, and I love and care about them too. Recently I moved in with my Auntie Ruth (hi!) and my Uncle Sam. They are some of the most generous and loving people I have ever met. Because of them I am becoming comfortable with who I am. They show me everyday that they love me and that I am welcome here. And because of them, I am starting to find my way in life. I am becoming more and more independent everyday and I can feel myself becoming an adult. Don't get me wrong, I love and miss my mother and father, and Ruth and Sam will never replace them, but this change of scenery is extremely beneficial to my mental health. My mother is a role model to me in every sense of the word. She has been through so much in her life including becoming a mother at age fifteen and then raising my brother to be the man he is today. I know she often feels like she didn't do right by me, but I can recognize all of her efforts and I truly, deeply, know that she loves me more than the world. And I love her that much times a million. My father, he has some issues with anxiety just like I do, however, it's starting to eat away his life. He's becoming a shut-in and it worries me greatly. I somewhat regret moving out of his house because he now has no one to talk to during the day and I can imagine he gets lonely. I miss him and his laugh. I would visit him more often but that means that he would have to drive me back to Marblehead, and that ride tortures him. It makes him so anxious that he grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. I hate to see him like that. I guess you could say that I am torn; I love him, and want to see him, but I just cant cause him that much anxiety. But because of all of the changes I have been put through in the last month or so, I have realized that I am nothing without the love and support of my family. They care for me more than I could ever imagine and I am eternally thankful for everything they have done and continue to do for me. Because of them I have rediscovered unconditional love, and therefore, my life has become richer than I could even imagine. I love you guys<3

I've been feeling so much better about myself lately. I've been losing weight and I am just really pleased with my appearance. This, my readers, is something new and exciting. I have never been happy with how I looked before. There was always something to criticize, always something to be fixed. I would poke and prod at myself in the mirror and I would make funny faces at myself to try to draw some humor into the disappointment I was feeling. But now, when I look at myself, I can only see the positive and I no longer scrunch up my face... I smile. And who doesnt love a smile?

This (solely because I have purple hair) is my life:

"Today, I was riding the bus to work and a little girl was sitting across from me. I have bright purple hair, and today I had a scarf and nail polish to match. My phone rang, playing the theme song from Power Rangers. The little girl looked over and when I took off my hood to take the call, a look of awe came across her face. When I hung up she quietly asked if I was a purple Ranger. I winked and put my finger over my lips. She grinned and nodded. MLIA"

You may now refer to me as the Purple Ranger. =]

I really just want to be content. I hear all this music and all it does is bring me to a time in my life that doesnt exist yet. It's an I'm-not-there-yet kind of place. It's a feeling composed of nostalgia, fear, longing, and regret. You wish it could be closer but at the same time further away. It's a moment filled with orange leaves, green grass, and a deep, setting sun. You run towards it. It beckons you, bribes you, pulls you forward with promises of happiness and the feeling that you finally belong.

I can picture myself there sometimes, sitting in that green grass under the orange leaves reading a wonderful, meaningful book by some unknown author. I can picture myself pulling my hair back behind my ears, squinting at the setting sun. I can picture myself putting on my aviator sunglasses and wrapping one of my beloved scarves closer around my neck. I can picture myself finally being happy.

And it scares me.

And I dont know why.

Christina is getting her own entry because she is amazing and reads my mindless rantings as if they were song lyrics. She is my girlfriend and I love her AND STUPID BOYS AND THEIR STUPID PENISES SHOULD TREAT HER WITH RESPECT!

Oh what the fuck, who am I trying to impress?

This is my life as of five minutes ago:

write. smoke. write. smoke. write. smoke. tea. write write write. bite lip ring. rub yesterdays makeup out of my eyes. write. want to smoke but ran out of cigarettes. watch shitty phone comercial. think about why my boyfriend hasnt called me. write. assure christina I am not going to die. mess up my hair. mess with lip ring. pick at nail polish. write.

I like this.

I have decided that I'm not going to sleep tonight, I am just going to write. I havent written in quite some time and my fingers feel almost numb against my laptop keys. This is like entering a foreign territory but with a slight case of deja vu. I dont believe in mornings anymore. I sleep until my bones ache and my eyes are glued shut with crust. I hate television. I like pomegranate tea but not actual pomegranates. Does that make me a bad person? My head feels heavy with everything I have done, havent done, and have yet to do. I want to see in orange. Right now this moment isnt orange and I would like to change that. Tomorrow I am going to walk until i cant feel my feet anymore, and then I am going to turn around and walk back. I am also planning on smoking a million cigarettes before I die and I plan to be buried with a pack in my pocket. Hell, I want Marlboro to sponsor my funeral and have my lungs cut out and put on display. Better yet, turn them into pinatas and fill them with nicotine gum. Fuck, I'm just rambling now. Who the fuck cares, no one reads this anyway.

Dying my hair purple soon. Like you give a shit.