tell me how to win your heart, for i haven't got a clue

lately i've been freaking about being alone and whining because i didn't like it. i wasted time and energy doing something no one cared to listen to. why? i don't know. because recently i've begun to want something else: i want to be alone. i want to hide, to not have to face the world or the coming of another day.

in your head, you're probably going, 'what the hell, girl? isn't this exactly what you didn't want?'

yes, you'd be correct in that assumption. but i don't understand it either. because it's more than just 'getting used to it'. it's so much more. i'm comfortable in my own head. sure, sometimes it's scary and doesn't make and sense, but it's mine.

my fear now? i'm afraid i might like it too much, this being alone and being in my corner. i'm afraid of reverting back to my old self from tenth grade. remember that, A.P.? i used to sit at the cafeteria table with a few people and H.H. used to try to talk to me, but my ipod was up too high or my book was in my face. or sometimes i just straight-out ignored her. but then she'd say something like: 'where do you go when you do that?' (referring to when i used to stare out the window and get lost in thought) and i'd look up, snapped put of my reverie and i'd respond angrily: 'i don't know! i just don't know!' i'd lash out and she'd jump slightly, not expecting the outburst. i thought my tone would imply that i wanted to be alone, but at the end of the hour she'd have her arms open for a hug and i'd leave her embracing air as i walked quickly to my Spanish 20 class. you were there, too. i remember doing it to you, too. you'd chase after me, up the stairs and to the door, sometimes surprised at my speed. you'd crush me in an unwanted hug and my arms would wrap around you limply, just to get it over with. i'd walk into class and Mr. M would look at me questioningly (if he was there; you have no idea how happy i was when he wasn't) and i'd try to give him a smile as i made my way to my desk with my friends. then, just like that, i'd switch gears. i'd be happy me and push sad me into the closet. why? because this war had nothing to do with them. this war was me and against myself, but somehow the two of you got caught in the fire.

i don't want that to happen again. this is my senior year and i want to live it. so i'm going to work for it soon. i'd say i'd start now, but the truth is, i can't just switch gears like i used to. i'm going to need a few days and hopefully, i'll be okay by then.

Song of the Moment: What About Me by Emily Osment
Random Point of Interest: it feels so damn good to write this down.

                                               What About Me?

i was always your little girl (i'm not a baby)

you know what they don't understand? they want us to grow strong and independent, which is good, right? what they don't understand is that it's easier said than done. they want us to end up like them or better. no one said life was easy. i know that sounds so cliché, but it's  the truth.

what i don't understand is this:
my mama and papa taught me pretty much everything to survive. i could live on my own and have almost no problem, thanks to them. at the age of sixteen, that's pretty good. but this is where i get confused: i know how to care for myself so why do they feel the need to baby me on the smaller deets? like, when i should shower or go to bed or get up in the morning (currently seven A.M.) or even when i'm trying to be a normal teen (i.e: watching too much tv and such... I had to get caught up on my Glee and Vampire Diaries somehow... ;) )), suddenly i'm not so perfect anymore and they see this as an excuse to get angry. did i miss something? since when was this plausible???

on another note, i'm still feeling terribly lonely. like, actually. no joke. it's actually really sad. everyone's off having fun, carrying on with their own lives and me? i'm living the same day-to-day routine. but what do i do about it? thoughts, anyone?

Random Point of Interest: It is 10:17 and I am off to bed.
Song of the Moment: Papa Don't Preach by Madonna (Glee version posted below)

                                                 Papa Don't Preach (Glee)

friend or foe?

Writing is freedom. It lets you say what needs to be said without your throat closing up. Writing is also your worst enemy. It can be used as written evidence against you and send you into a downward spiral of darkness. Writing is both friend and foe, but the result is ultimately up to you.

as the water slowly drifts

So, I'm feeling particularly suckish right now. No, I don't have the energy to cry anymore but y'know, it still sucks. What sucks, you ask? Well, there's the fact that summer is half-over and I have not done anything memorable. Sure, there were cool little moments (two days ago at the park, July 17th at K.B.'s place and July 7th at mine). THREE DAYS.

This leads me to the fact that I believe myself to be jealous of my particularly out-going friends.  They have lives, unlike me. Besides those awesome days mentioned above, my pathetic days have consisted of chores, cooking and reading. Reality is so much better in books. Even when it's the twisted stuff by VC Andrews because there's always a happy ending.

Speaking of cooking, I'm really not liking it anymore. Because it's taking so much energy. Energy I'm not willing to give if no one wants it. But at least my dad isn't like Abuelo. Not that it's a huge difference, based off of Mami's stories. Pero, sabes que? It'd be nice if people didn't just want me around (when they wanted me around) para cocinar. To cook. It's like, they don't want me around for who I am, but for what I do.

Yeah, I'm kinna pissed now, if you can tell. Which is where the random Spanish is coming from. The waters drifting away from me and I'm being dragged into the sand. (See, N.O.? Our little metaphor has a bitter edge. Just like everything else in this world.)

And the topic that probably comes up on every girl's blog: boys. In my case, the lack thereof. I mean, there's plenty of them. They're just hiding, I guess. But the time will come, I guess. Most of them are stupid, anyways. I mean, not like I've experienced anything, but from what I've seen, boys currently suck. X.C. (Swoon at Your Own Risk) does not  exist in the real world, ladies! (I totally wish he did, though!) :(

Random Point of Interest: My forty-something neighbor is playing with a remote control car like a four year old.

Song of the Moment: Riot by 3 Days Grace