People make me sick. I hate them all. By the way, I'm quite excited for Thursday. But then again, I'm kinda scared that I'll fall off the stage @.@

   How can I live with this double life? So happy at school, but depressed at home. My head aches. My shoulder twitches. My whole body goes numb, thousands of pinpoints conjured beneath my skin, under the exhaust of crying. Please God, make it all just fade away. Three years until it's all over
   How am I still only fourteen? Because of my mother and brother, I feel like I've aged far beyond where I should be. I want my childhood back...
   Is this what it takes? Piling my furniture against the door just to keep her out? I swear that if I ever become like her, I will either become a hermit or slit my throat.
   She complains to my father, my sweet, sweet father, because I refuse to speak to her. She tells him that his job is worthless, that she is the only one holding us together. The irony she speaks is beyond words. My father is the only one with any sense in this whole freaking hellhouse. His words are the wise ones, more than any other bodies on this earth, to me. I just wanted to have dinner with my mom and dad...
   Why did she do it? I needed to sleep, I promised to talk to her later, and she forces a stakeout in my room until dad has to pull her away from the door. Please take me away.
  Now, no one can get in or out. Maybe I'll just go to school one day and never come home.
  I have been praying all this time just to die. Maybe this week, I will be answered.

   The chill of near winter cold pinched and bit at my skin. It was January, the earlier days in the month. Though, cold as it was, the icy, melancholy dusk gave an almost comforting cover of peace and mystery; the sky was the color of the royal blue eyes hidden in the body next to me. Them and the sky had a strange, stained glass-like quality, as though they held deep in them a church more grand than the weathered architecture of the British Isles.
   The two of us sat in the silence on top of the frozen, yellow grass and weeds, watching a string of traffic hug the curves of a hill further down then their ridge, the miniature cars' lights flickering and glowing like small, golden Christmas lights.
  We had been friends for so long now. But soon, he would go off to college in Massachusetts, a dream of his he worked overtime ever since elementary school to achieve. I would stay behind in my native state, and wait until another year finished until i could take the wings of the blackbird in our backyard and fly away. There was half a year left, only half a year, until i looked inside his frosted window once again, only to find his room was vacated.
  I leaned against him. As he put my arm around me, and I cried. Bitter, tired, and isolated.

HOLY CRAAAP!!! Kien Nguyen is such an awesome author ^^ dont know how to pronnounce his name, though -.- go read his books!! NOW!!!! >_<

tasting blood is like licking a nail. its not too pleasant, I suppose

Famous last words;
       "Tomorrow never comes.
               "Will I ever know
                     "that I was in love...?"

As soon as I get my licence and some free time, I am going to drive down Hampden to the ramen shop, and conduct a lively chat with the other rameneers. On the way back, I will park at Denver University, and wait on the lawn by the science classroom for the boy of summer I waved goodbye to there...