A boy sat in the tree. His father had beat him up a bit and he usually stayed at a friends house, but this time he didn't want to worry anyone. His blue eyes were red rimmed and one had a cut below it. His arms had fingerprint bruises all over and he had a bruise on his ribs from a flashlight that had been thrown. He had run out of his house as his father screamed and threw more of his possesions and with a sound of dischord, he knew his guitar was being smashed. He'd run to the willow by the park and sat in the lower stronger branches. He'd been sitting there since the sun went down. He had a coffee clutched in his frozen hands that he bought from a vendor, but it had long since turned cold. But his eyes were not on the coffee. He was watching the lake. It was now dark out and there was a girl. A beautiful girl. He fingered the edge of his ear and bit his lip watching her. He'd be embarrassed for her, but she seemed to be so free. She was dancing. Dancing in the cold. She had a small radio beside her feet and she was dancing, spinning close to the waters edge, only to dance back. She'd hop up onto a bench for a moment and then leap off. He made a whistle noise to see if she could hear him. And she kept dancing. He jumped from his branch to the ground and set his cup in a branch. He sat at the base of the tree and watched her twirl around. She'd wave her body around and twist her hips. She'd roll her hips like one of the girls in a hip hop video. She'd jump up and down, thrashing around, looking like she'd fit in at a rock concert. Then she'd begin to tango, mambo, waltz, or swing with her invisible partner. She then lifted her arms gracefully above her head and did pirouets and arabesques to her heart's content. And she giggled. He melted. She had a lovely little girl's giggle, she sounded as though she was thoroughly enjoying herself. He wanted to go over, but was afraid he'd ruin it. So he sat still. Eventually the girl slowed and he felt his heart go faster, she couldn't stop! Please keep dancing. And she turned and looked straight at him and spun around, looking back to him, giving a cheshire cat grin. He'd said it aloud. He couldn't help but smile back. She made chasez steps and piroueting turns to him and held out a hand. He took her hand and felt warmth go through his whole body. She led him over to the edge of the lake and she took his hand and placed it on her hips.
 "I'm not so good-" He began but she placed a soft finger against his lips and began to dance.
At first he was afraid he'd mess up and they'd fall into the water. But everytime he'd put his foot down and was certain he was going to crush her toes, her laced up tennis shoe would appear somewhere else and she'd smile her grin at him. And he smiled back. They did all kinds of dancing, hip hop, waltz, tango, swing, a little ballet, and they even did the Lyndie. Then she looked up at him and stopped dancing. Then sun was rising and the golden light was pouring over the top of the willow. She turned to the boy, her dark hair tangling around her face, her eyes golden, and she smiled. She touched the cut beneath his eye, ran her hands down the bruises on his arms and ribs. They stopped aching. He felt on fire. She put her arms around his neck and he settled his around her waist. They fit as one. They were like a puzzle, fitting together at last, so tightly the sun could not shine through.
 She lifted her face to look at him and then she pressed her mouth against his ear and whispered "Have you ever felt that something was too good to be true?"
He looked down and saw her smile trailing at one corner. She let go and bent to pick up her radio. The boy felt stunned and felt a tear trickle down his cheek. He didn't know what he expected to happen. Perhaps a kiss, a promise to meet again, a simple introduction. The girl saw his tear and kissed it and smiled.
 "Now I'm gonna live forever."
She carried her radio as it played a goodbye song and she twirled one last time and he sat beside the water. Pieces of colored chalk colored the grass beside the sidewalk and a beautiful picture was colored on the concrete. It was of a boy sitting in a weeping willow, crying softly.
He turned to the girl to find her at the top of the hill. She gave a little wave and disappeared into a beam of sunlight.

Does anyone else think this is weird:
 Catholics believe that during consecration the host becomes the body of Jesus...the actual body. So Jesus told us to eat his body...so we do. And drink his blood. So...Catholics are promoting cannibalism. That's gross. I'm eating the body of a 2,000 year old Holy Man. Gross. Catholics are cannibals!

And don't you think it's weird that boss rhymes with Ross, cross, and loss...but gross doesn't? Everyone should say gross so that it rhymes with all the other -oss words!!

Sometimes I hate her so much. Like when she read Her diary when I was worried and then she proceeded to say "sounds like She's pretty happy with Her little situation to me". That's because She writes in beautiful poetry and you are too literal to understand. She's hurting...not enjoying...read!!!! Read it and understand, dammit! You never understand!! Sometimes it amazes me that we are related. You are so full of science and equations that everything is so literal and should be explainable through detailed hypothesis and thorough experimentation. I prefer to dream about what should happen, I fix my problems by crying as I paint and listen to music that mends my soul. I am so emotional that I can't stand it. You seem to hide it all or true to Ally Sheedy, your soul has died. Please...look at abstract and see. Listen to poetry and hear the meaning. You believe in God and understand all the hidden messages of parables and the bible. Why can't you understand me? Am I so much more confusing than God?

I got home and I cried myself to sleep for no apparent reason. I just saw you. But I had no warm body behind me...there were no arms wrapped around me to keep me safe and make me feel wanted. Loved. No kisses on the eyelids, forehead, cheeks, or lips. So I did the only thing I could...I cried. And then I realized that maybe I just needed to stay busy. It was the last day before I returned to school so I cleaned. I cleaned my room, I finished my painting, I started a portfolio to show the people at Columbia, I did chores, and by the time I finished I realized that not only did I not think of you, I didn't eat, get tired, or really think at all. This is how I will spend the next 2-3 years of my life. In a constant state of movement and activities so I won't miss the kisses, hugs, and words that mean so much. But now I have nothing...I am thinking of you. And it hurts so much. It hasn't been long but knowing I can't even hear your voice hurts so badly I can't even describe it. I listen to the Cake cd you left constantly. And the song Such Great Heights. All I can think of is how you said you love me so much. How you squeezed me close and said that I deserve so much better. No one has ever made me feel like that. I've always felt as if I deserve what I have here. And now I'm listening to Wonderwall and thinking about how it describes my feelings so perfectly. I love you....I love you, I lurve you, I loov you...I can't stop sighing...I keep puting on Axe. I think about when you were dreaming and you clutched my hand so tight and it made me feel so good that I wasn't sure if I should wake you. You made me feel wanted. When you picked me up I felt safe. I didn't know you could do that. You stared into my eyes and I felt as though you were reading my mind and soul. I could have laid there for hours staring into your eyes. When you slept and would toss and turn or look upset I would sing to you. You didn't know I did that. But I do...I sing to you all the time and stroke your cheek. And I could spend eternity that way. I can't stand this...I can't. And I don't know how I will. I woke up at three this morning and thought about how you said I should run if it made me happy. I stopped for others. So I ran. I ran to the park. I sat on the swings, I climbed the train, went down the slide, and ran around the pond. Then I sat and prayed. Or meditated, whatever you would like to call it. You know what I prayed for? I prayed that one day you would come take me away and we'd spend forever together. I wish for this all the time. I pray...I wish...on airplanes, stars, tunnels, bridges, eyelashes, backwards necklaces, triple sneezes, 11:11, and on old couples holding hands. I sat in the park gripping my knees to my chest and praying and wishing...I just want to be with you. So badly it hurts. I'm sorry I can't be with you...I'm so sorry. I love you so much...you'll never even know. You are the one I trust above all. You're the first person to ever tell me I deserve more and make me feel safe.

This song describes the way I feel so perfectly...and I only just discovered I had it today...

I have never fallen in love before. I am currently in my first love. The real love. What I imagine it to be anyway. I say I love my family but that's different. When you love your family I see it more as a bond...a dependence. You've lived with those people for all the years of your life, so soon you have to see them, they have kept you alive. That's a different kind of love. I love my friends in a way...if it was true love I'd not be able to live without them. But as many people know, in about 5-10 years we'll all be on different tracks and forget about one another. Only a few will stay together, keep in contact. I have a few friends I believe I'll still be friends with. And they know who they are. Or at least I hope they do. I've never been in love with a boy before. Not my father, my grandfather, brother, cousins, or boyfriends. I can't trust them. Everytime I begin to trust a boy he goes and disappoints me and lies. My father walked out on me, returned crying and begging for forgiveness, so I did, and he lied again. My grandfather quite honestly is an asshole who thinks he knows the world better than anyone. My uncles don't know me. My cousins I rarely see. My brother is my brother, born to annoy. My past boyfriends have been...well I don't know...they would be wanting mainly one thing, and I didn't want to. So they would drop me. So then I started to break up with boys before they could with me lasting in 2 weeks relationships. One I thought was "the one". I'd known him a while, he was my best friend. But I knew he had a thing for my best friend. So after 8 months, he broke up with me and tried to date my best friend. Didn't work. Then he dated another of my best friends. Then dated me...then broke up with me. Made me feel a bit like shit. So I've never had the best of luck with boys. Or girls. But boys mainly. So after I slowly fell in love with one boy...whom I had a crush on forever...I thought maybe I was doomed to a life of secret crushes. I sat across from that boy, cherishing the moments when I made him laugh, when he'd smile at me, when he'd try to touch my face. But I knew it was nothing special, he was like that with everyone. But then backstage on day I wondered if it all was changing. I hoped and prayed for it to be as I hoped it was. When we first held hands, when we kissed, I hoped it was for real. I was so excited. It was better than I dreamed! Then back at school I realized someone was less than happy. And it upset me. I knew this one was for real!! This couldn't happen! I knew...I couldn't eat or sleep, I hoped to hear his voice and feel his hand on my cheek soon...but then she'd be there. So maybe this was how this one was going to end. Not wanting to upset a friend, we'd go our seperate ways, me always wondering what would have been. But we didn't break up. When a terrible thing happened...the worst thing in my young life, he was there. We cried together and I felt safe. When I moved and went through some hard times, I felt as though he were the only one I could count on. Hearing his voice from miles away made me feel safe. When I wouldn't eat and was getting sick, he made me feel like I was better than that. So I ate for him. When I do anything I imagine him there watching me. I imagine if he's approving or disapproving. I want so badly to make him happy. Even from this far away. I love him. I've never loved anyone like this before.   But isn't it just so perfect that the first boy I love and trust is miles away from me? That's another glitch in the life and times of me. Love is always a little further out of my reach everytime I can almost grasp it.

1. At lunch time, sit in your parked car with sunglasses
on and point a hair dryer at passing cars. See if they slow down.

2. Page yourself over the intercom. Don't disguise your voice.

3. Every time someone asks you to do something,
ask if they want fries with that.

4. Put your garbage can on your desk and label it "in"

5. Put decaf in the coffee maker for 3 weeks. Once everyone
has gotten over their caffeine addictions, switch to espresso.

6. In the memo field of all your checks, write "for sexual favors".

7. Finish all your sentences with "in accordance with the
prophecy".

8. Don't use any punctuation marks

9. As often as possible, skip rather than walk.

10. Ask people what sex they are and laugh hysterically after they
answer.

11. Specify that your drive-through order is "to go".

12. Sing along at the opera.

13. Go to a poetry recital and ask why the poems don't rhyme.

14. Put mosquito netting around your work area. Play a tape
of jungle sounds all day.

15. Five days in advance, tell your friends you can't attend
their party because you're not in the mood.

16. Have your coworkers address you by your wrestling name,
Rock Hard Devon.

17. When the money comes out the ATM, scream "I won!", "I won!"
"3rd time this week!!!!!"

18. When leaving the zoo, start running towards the parking lot,
yelling "run for your lives, they're loose!!"

19. Tell your children over dinner, "Due to the economy, we are
going to have to let one of you go."

20. Put this in all of your profiles.

I was born the jealous type and it'll never quit. All I can think of is her beautiful eyes, his friendships, her hair, her body, his smile, her surroundings, her talent, his life...and I hate myself for it. For once, I'm just going to use names and if it ticks anyone off get over it...it's a compliment. I so badly want to be Rachel. I always have. First time I saw her I though that she was the cutest thing ever...no one hated her, she was liked by all, and she was friendly. Than she was dating my best friend and I was madly in love with my best friend, Matt. They broke up and I was actually relieved...then she was dating another boy whom I soon developed a crush on. But I still loved Rachel. By highschool Rachel was so pretty. She dressed so neat, almost whimsical, she had the coolest friends, I loved her hair because it could be tangly but still look beautiful, her skin was lovely, and I loved her smile! She was talented and smart, she had awesome sisters and a million cats...Rachel do you know how bad I wanted to be you??? Do you know that sometimes I still want to be you?? Abby...you have had tough times...but you are so together it seems, you are friends with some people that I have forever wanted to be friends with, you have a uniqueness to you that I could never have. You are so talented in theater, writing, and art! Not to sound creepy, but you also are so pretty!! Aubrey, you are friends with Braun (I've wanted to be friends w/ Braun forever) and you live almost right next to Alex. You have the perfect body and you seem so comfortable w/ yourself. Nicole you have the funnest parents...you seem to have fun all the time, even if you're being bitchy. You have an attitude that says "don't fuck with me" and I wish I could have that. Morgan....you are the one person I see as being the most comfortable w/ yourself. You constantly say "I don't care" and you don't! Your parents are so unique and they allow you to be yourself and support you. Miranda...you have such a close relationship with your mom. You are such a mature person and I feel that if I would mature everyone would look at me different. I wish I could be as popular as Adam and Dana. I wish I could look like Claire. I wish I could dance like Allison. I wish I could not eat like all kinds of people. I wish I had a smile as cute as Abe's...I wish my face could be as clear as Emily's. I wish I could have as much as Alisha...
Like I said. I'm jealous...extremely...there's actually a lot more I'm jealous of but I feel weird putting it here. I just so badly want to be so many of you. Why can't I be you? WHY CAN'T I BE PERFECT???? WHY CAN'T I, THE ONE THAT HAS ALWAYS BELIEVED IN GOD, BE BLESSED BY GOD, AND RECEIVE SOME SORT OF REWARD FOR ALL THE SHIT THAT HAS BEEN PLACED ON MY WHOLE FAMILY!?!?!?!?! WHY CAN'T I BE LIKE YOU??????

So as I dream a dreamer comes to me in my misty land of no return.
"Why do you sleep when you know that you have things to be done?" She asks.
"So I have the energy to do them in the morning." I reply.
"Why not do it now in it's entirety, get it done to a level you are proud of when you still have many hours left. Not right before in three minutes rushed." Says the harsh voice. "You have talent, stop wasting it. Sooner you get the facts done, the sooner you can make ones up."
 
          So I wake up.
         I work until the sun rises.
         And I don't sleep until it's all done.

I hate myself somedays...I hate myself with a feeling so strong it's surprising. I want to love myself, I really do, but how can I do that? I don't feel there's anything of me to love. People give me obscure things they love, like the things I say, my ears, my sarcasm. But it's not surprising...nothing jumps out and says that I am loveable, dammit, now love me! I don't mean to drive people away. I don't mean to sit on the other side of the table from everyone, I didn't mean to threaten her life, but when I do, I seem hostile. No one loves those with hostilities towards the world. And in some ways, that's what I am seen as. But I work, I play, I cry, I laugh, I love. I'm just like everyone else, but in so many ways different. But no one can see that. To them I'm either so plain, I fade into oblivion, or I'm so weird that I cannot be accepted. I just want to have someone love me so much it hurts...so much that they cry when I cry, laugh when I laugh, and hurt when I hurt...they hold me close when there needs to be holding and give me space when I am feeling the hostitlity everyone imagines. I want someone supportive. I want someone right here with me to help me when I feel my lowest. Because I feel my lowest when no one's around. That's when I need someone the most. When no one loves me, I cannot love myself. And right now I hate myself. But don't worry, soon the day will change, the sun will come out, I'll feel better and my attitude will change. I'll love myself because I have someone near me. The question asked is "do you love someone because you want to be loved back." I say no. If someone loves me I'll know, because on that day, I'll love myself.

So I sit and stare across the table thinking that one day i'm gonna be her best friend that we can do art together but i know that we're too different that shes in love with jesus and i'm in love with my boyfriend i know she is frightened by the idea of sex and i long for it i scribble on looseleaf and she faints at anything that is not canvas we mosh to shitty bands but exert the energy anyway one day we'll be at the best concert in the world and even though she's in all pink and her hoodie appears to say suck head we'll have fun and headbang to bands that are headbangable we'll learn rap songs and sing them to metallica tunes and then laugh at the ridiculous way it sounds we'll laugh the innuendos in the end-o and then make fun of her for saying she swallows lots of stuff on accident i'll pretend to be black and we'll all laugh at my expense and she'll say she's gonna kick my ass even though we both know she won't because i'm her favorite white almost black girl me and him will laugh as he orgasms over mercury and then pretend to make out to freak out our teacher we'll laugh nervously after he asks me to promise to go with him to the valentine's dance and me not knowing he was serious we'll listen to beastie boys and drive though the south side of cape the real ghetto and yell to them and then cower begging them not to shoot us i'll laugh at how naiive you are then explain things to you and laugh when you look shocked but at the same time interested i'll call you every night and stare into the darkness after we've hung up and eventually finish my chemistry i never remember to do and i'll think about boobieing and peanut butter jelly time i'll think in my own head about myself and the times i've had together and wonder at the randomosity that goes through my head like the hate of the giggitagiggitagiggita the word exemperanious and vollinks hair i'll see things like dogs and cats clips of clockwork orange a movie that scarred me early one morning images of the bible of porn in that order i see his eyes and your lips i see myself running i see her crying i see the piles of tissues from that morning lying amoung mountain dew cans i see the french guy from oceans twelve i hear techno i cry for you and for your sins and for the shitty way you sing i laugh at death in movies and how scared she was for sean connery i gasp at nothing gaspable and stare at things that shouldnt be stared at such as the sun and who cares because everything is nonsense and we all know it doesnt make sense so try to make sense of it i vote just think in an endless flow and have fun with it try and talk in it and acknowledge that you can still be all that you cant be despite what the army has informed you and you can be fabbadabadoo in your own way

One day I'll paint.

I'll creep in the still of night to the art area I set up in the basement with it's blue lights and black lights glowing. I'll paint regardless of color. Regardless of what I'm actually painting. I'll put on music of all kinds, regardless of what genre and tempo. I'll shut my eyes, put the paint brush in the wrong hand and do a self portrait. I'll paint everything upside down. I'll use a big brush for little details, I'll meticulously paint bandaids to cover the walls. I'll splatter my pajamas and the walls. When I'm finished I'll look and see that I've actually painted more of the wall that the intended target. And that'll be fine with me.

So I know this person.

This person is sick. Really sick.

And I want to be her. I'm crazy jealous of her.

I find out where she is. She's not in school. Suddenly I think, why can't that be me? Why can't I be so sick that I get off school? Why can't I be the one everyone is worried about? Everyone sending me things and coming to visit me. My past sins forgiven, everyone just hoping I'm alright.

It makes me sick...but I am so jealous.

I look in the mirror and I see bushy eyebrows, tangly long hair, regular brownish, small eyes, small mouth, pointy nose, I have a big body. Except I'm short. And I feel so ugly. Why couldn't I finish what I started 3 months ago? I'd be perfect. Why can't I be this girl? I'd be perfect.

I'm so sorry....but I can't stop feeling like this. I'm so sorry.

I kneel in church and look at the sparse decorations and wonder why they didn't decorate more. I like Valle's decorations...hated the priests, but the church was always beautiful. I prayed for many things...I asked for help with my Algebra and Chemistry tests and finals, I asked to make the week go quickly, I asked for good grades, I asked for God to make everyone happy. It's funny that I didn't thank God for anything. Normally I'm not religious...at all. But it kind of upset me that I'm ungrateful. Not just in prayer, but to everyone period. Someone does something for me and I completely take it for granted. I mumble a thanks and move on my way. I want to be more grateful...starting now. I also gained this little snippet of insightfulness because of a little boy in church. This little boy looked about six or seven years old and his dad was carrying him in the communion line. I have a habit of watching the people, and this little boy looked a little dazed. His eyes were unfocused, his lips were bruised, hanging from his tiny wrist was a hospital bracelet, and as they passed by my bench I could hear the little boy breathing. It made me take deeper breaths...his ragged breathing made me feel as though I didn't have enough oxygen and I suddenly wanted to cry. I don't know this little boy. But I see him, I hear him and I want to help. I think about his parents, how they take this. I'm suddenly so grateful that I am, in physical ways, whole. I have no major handicaps. I appear normal. But at the same time I feel terrible.

Isn't it funny how you know it has snowed. You wake up early in the morning to feel warm. It's completely silent. You look out the window and you know. It's snowing. There's no school. You have a whole day to do what you want. You could do what my sister did and talk to friends all day. You could do what my brother did and build snow forts. You could do what me and the kids from therapy did and tackle eachother in the snow and dare eachother to steal Devin's movies and water bottles. You could do what I did at the beginning of the day and set up a studio. You can paint. You can have a snow ball fight and come inside ready for the cup of hot chocolate with teeny freeze dried marshmellows that you know'll be waiting. You can call everyone you know and whisper "guess what......it's snowing!!" and then hang up. Like Jason did to me. Then as the day closes you watch the cars squeal through stoplights and you pray you don't have school the next day. Your parents watch the school closings obsessively. You curse the snow plows and hope they all crash....or maybe that one's just me. But once it snows...you know...it is winter. Christmas is coming. When it snows you're no longer a hormonal teenager. You're a kid. A little kid playing in the snow, waiting for friends to challenge your fort.

I'll be pretty...
I'll be a good painter...
I'll be a good writer...
I'll finish writing my 3 books that are unfinished...
I'll finish my algebra that I never do...
I'll write every friend I have...
I'll pray...
I'll eat...
I'll see my friends...
I'll see my Alex...
I'll be skinny...
I'll be free...
I'll understand...
I'll be involved...
I'll be allowed...
I'll be graceful...
I'll be accepted...
I'll be talented...
I'll be known...
I'll know...
I'll untangle my hair...
I'll be happier...
I'll be in love...
I'll be trusting...
I'll be trusted...
I'll be your best friend...
I'll be your worst enemy...
I'll be my mom's friend...
I'll love my siblings...
I'll remember all of it...
I'll have a job...
I'll be respected...
I'll grow up...
It'll stop...
It'll be better...
It'll be over...
It'll change...
I'll change...
I'll listen...
I'll be better...
                        ...One day...

She breathes....in and out and concentrate souly on that. She times herself. How many seconds do my inhales last? My exhales? Then she averages them for every 5 sets. In through the nose and out through the mouth just like it should be, even though it's easier to just breathe through the mouth. She ignore the pains in her legs. She doesn't know how far she has gone. She's barely aware that she is wearing shorts. It's cold. She realizes she has gone off track, so she begins to count again. She focuses on the little cloud puffs coming out of her mouth. In chemistry they talked about making clouds and that you could possibly make a small rain storm in a bottle with the right elements. She imagines it snowing from her little puffs of air. In books the picture of winter is always a person with crazy hair, red cheeks, blowing out wind, clouds, and snow. She imagines that's how she must look. Her hair's a mess, pouring down her shoulders, her cheeks must be bright red by now, her eyes bright and starry with tears yet to be spilled. The little clouds puff out from her mouth and she chances to look where she is and realizes it was a mistake to do so. She's ended up downtown and realizes how tired she is. Ten or more miles. She legs feel on fire. She wanders over to the river wall and walks through. The people around her, admiring the Christmas lights as they pour out of Cafe N'Orleans must think she's crazy...shorts in December? One woman looks as if she wants to say something but just shakes her head. The girl narrows her eyes and runs along the wall. They don't get it. They all probably think she's irresponsible or childish. And she looks childish. Her round cheeks rosy and covered in dried tears. Her eyes puffy from crying, her hair disheveled and in her face. She looks like she got in trouble and has been pouty. Pouty after running ten miles. She wonders if anyone will come looking for her. Her stomach begins to churn and she runs to bend over the side of a trash can, holding her long hair back. She settles beside the wall and begins to sob. Ridiculous little baby sobs, she thinks. She wanders down the steps to the river and leans over it, dropping in a few rocks. Suddenly her necklace slips into the water. She gasps and reaches in almost immediately to grab it. Her hand comes out of the frigid water with the blue heart and silver clover necklace. Not thinking she slips it back on and the cold water runs down her neck. She stays on the step for a while until a man comes in. She remembers something from her past and runs out. She runs continuously. Past the music store, past all the gleaming lights tempting people in like candy to children. She runs past the tavern where people are laughing and joking around. She runs past the blinding lights of the gas station and down the street where her friend's uncle lives. At one time she thought she could be in love with that friend...if she wasn't a girl. Or because she was a girl. She runs up to her house. The house is empty. No one home. Just the way she left it. Her mirror doesn't tell her much. All she sees is a scared little girl with wide dark eyes looking as though she released her soul to the dark river. She couldn't stop shivering. She slipped off her shorts and t-shirt. She put on an oversized jersey and curled up with a blanket and pillow around the heater like a cat. She continued to shiver. She stared at the orange coils of the heater and drifted into a shivering state of sleep. She didn't know why she couldn't stop. She didn't know why she was so distraught. All she knew was that something bad was going to happen. And I don't like it.

M-O M-O-R M-O-R-N-I-N-G..W-O-O-D....
This is a song...it's called Nth Degree by Morningwood...I was singing it today and Vollink made me spell it out for him and then he asked if that was appropriate lyrical-ness for school. It took me a while to figure out what that was. See? I am still naiive. Which can be a good thing!! *pout*

Put on a smiling face for all the friendlies at school. My ride gets here and on it goes. I smile when I complain, smile when someone cuts in front of me, smile when I forget homework, smile when someone makes a not funny joke. I'm like Eleanor Rigby, wearing my face. I have just one jar sitting on the shelf beside my door, prepared for any unexpected visitors. Someone is at the door, I snap it into place, with a wincing smile I answer the door. Of course I'm all right, everything is all right. Can't you see me smiling? And they're smiling too. They wear a mask too. I wonder if they race for it as I do if there's any moments of unexpected emotion. If your eyes begin to brim with tears when a friend mentions her engagement. You cry because she's so young and you hope she knows what she's doing, and you hope one day in the future you'll know what you're doing, too. But you better snap that smile on and congratulate her. That's what she wants, not lectures, or hopes. She is certain. So you should be too. When your friend laughs at a teacher and what they say, as much as you hate yourself for it...you laugh too. Smile! Smile as you wonder if as this friend sucks up to this teacher in class and laughs at all his jokes, then is mean behind his back, does she do that to you too? Does she smile at you then smirk at everyone about you once you turn away? But you smile. Nothing is wrong, absolutely nothing!! You may be starving hungry, wanting to eat everything off your friend's trays, but you politely refuse it, smiling..."I'm full." Then smile off into space as you imagine what it'd be like to eat whatever you want...but can't because you're fat. Because maybe I do all these things. When I get home I stop smiling. I rest my face and sleep. I dream of a perfect world where floating music notes drift past me as I sleep peacefully. But then I wake. I do all my homework and cry in frustration. I have no one to help me. I used to take it to school and have others help me. I have no one to help me with this. So instead, like the pathetic person I am, I cry. I run out of our house to avoid the screams and race down the street in the freezing temperatures wearing a proud Notre Dame t-shirt and jeans. I return an hour later to enter my home where the one who made me run expects a hug. I don't give one. I instead mark next Monday and say a little prayer that everything will get better. That the next day I'll have the courage to leave my mask at home. As I am talked to I refill the tea, I look at all the fried food for dinner and cringe, then I take the phone to realize I can't talk to the people I want to because they are not home. Any of them. I set the phone back down, sigh, and go upstairs to fall back asleep, dreaming I never got to see anyone again, jerking awake to find I had an hour left of social time. But still, those I call are busy or disinterested. Or I imagine they're disinterested. I cry. I cry pathetically like a two year old that doesn't get their way. And that's what I am...crying because I don't get my way. I'm reading a book where one girl goes crazy after her husband tries to force himself on her. She falls out of love. And it drives her insane. He tries to apologize, but she can't understand what he's saying, and when she speaks it's in a language he can't understand. I feel like this sometimes. I wonder sometimes if I'd truly be sad if this happened or perhaps if I'd welcome it. Not to hear cruel remarks or worry what people are saying. I wouldn't have to worry that what I'd say might offend everyone. No one could understand me.