Why do all presidents' names have to be George or John? Huh? I want to raise the next president...and name him Sparticus. Or Godzilla. GODZILLA IS YOUR PRESIDENT! VOTE FOR GODZILLA! That'd be awesome. Think of the cool slogans and ads that could be around just because your name is Godzilla. Or maybe I'll name my kid Jesus!!!! VOTE FOR JESUS. WWJD?? VOTE FOR JESUS!  GOD LOVES JESUS, SO SHOULD YOU!!! WHO COULD HATE JESUS?   COME ON ALL YOU JEWS, REPENT FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE....VOTE FOR JESUS!!

Or maybe not. Okie Dokie then.

I be supreme ghetto white girl yo ass eva laid ayez on, aight? Sho nuff, nah shorty ain't eva call me cracka, dig man?



My brain feels dumb...

GOOD MORNING STARSHINE! THE EARTH SAYS HELLOOO!!!!!

And that, my dear children, you can take to the bank.

"Hey, did he just call him Jeff?"

Dragonflies?

Well, I couldn't very well see the show from up there, now, could I little girl?

I'm done with Notre Dame. I leave Saturday. Why is everything running together all of a sudden? Suddenly, I really don't want to go. Suddenly, I'm ready to suffer another year in Notre Dame. Suddenly, I'm ready to run away. Suddenly, I want to hurt myself. But I don't. That's all I need. Show up in Minnesota with strawberry gashes all over my body...I'll get sent back, then they'll wish they could just send me somewhere else. They could make me go to a mental institution. I probably wouldn't stuggle. Probably. I hate this...I hate this so much. I'm like a dog no one could house train. They loved me intensley for a few months and then they decided it was too hard to keep me. So they ship me off to a new family who will pet and love me until I start to bite. Then I'll be put to sleep. Fuck....they say that all artists need pain to create...suffering. I should be an awesome artist. Not that I'm suffering physically...well not really...but mentally I feel really fucked up. I decided to take back what I said about love at one point. I decided, hey, maybe it is possible to love someone. Maybe it is possible to trust in love. And now what...? A one night stand with him, making out with him and knowing he only calls me baby because he can't remember my name, kissing her and saying sorry sorry sorry...staring at him across the room and kicking yourself for never just going out with him once. Running up in the hall that last day and giving him a kiss, knowing nothings going to come of it. Sneering if someone says you're beautiful. None of this is real. One day I'll wake up and realize, no one wants you. Get used to it. You don't need them either. I can be alone. I prefer it that way. Parents? I've never really had any. Why start now? Boyfriends? Girlfriends? Why the fuck bother? It all starts with a touch, then a kiss, then I love you, then wait, I love them, sorry. Sorry, Dani. Sorry, God. Me, too, guys. Me too.

I give awesome back rubs. I did everyone's at work last night (my last day!!) and then today in French class. I had a line going and Matt told me it was the best french class ever...golly, i feel special. I have a week left.

Think about it...in ten days, I'm gone. I'm out of (some) people's lives forever. I stand in front of my mirror and wonder if the next place I go, they'll be happy to get big, crybaby, badass Dani. I just hope it gets better. The seniors are gone and I feel like it's my turn. They all seemed so grown-up, though. I don't want to be a grown up yet. I want to run wild and wear bright sundresses and laugh when I have chocolate on my face. When did I start needing things to stay alive. When did having a cigarette start making my day better? Since when have I needed a man to say "You're beautiful"? Since when have I needed a pill to make me feel better, a drink to make me feel brave, a death to feel inspiration? Why don't can't I have these just from me? My mom hasn't said a real sentence to me in months. I'm leaving soon. Shouldn't there be sentiment? My friends sound like they're going to miss me more. And even now, they seemed more sad when I moved to Cape than anyone does now that I'm moving further away. Who knows...maybe I'll find myself there. See everything I couldn't while I was here. Maybe I'll be a new person. Maybe I'll finish writing a book. Maybe I'll have a high GPA. Maybe I won't be so scared of everything. Maybe I'll let myself fall in love. 

Oh, tragedy. Oh, poor Dani. Feel bad for me, boo hoo. I don't want your fucking sympathy. I'm just writing. It needs to go somewhere. I can't tell everybody everything. Rather I can't tell anybody anything. But I'm writing. Bad habits have no longer become habits, they're just life now. Smoking a pack a day, 2 hours of sleep, short nails, scratching my arms, crying for no reason, not really eating. I don't know what to do. Everything has fallen apart suddenly. Where did it all start? Last May. It started with the death of one of the sweetest (weirdest) guys I've ever known. Things unraveled from there. I went to Minnesota for a while and almost got kicked out of their house, moved to Cape...and then joined the fucking cult school where if you're sick they assume you must be facing pressing mental issues. I got broken up with and am still really confused. I did something stupid because I felt I wasn't pretty enough. My mom has given up on me and is sending me away. My 3rd highschool. My 7th school in my lifetime. I'm super psyched! Or I try to pretend to be! Why do people keep fucking giving up on me? I'll move to Minnesota and I'll bet that this will be my communication with everyone. No one will come see me, I won't see them. No one will call, and I'm tired of calling first. I have had migraines these past few days and I knew I couldn't go to school today. So Brother David basically said that he's ready to say just keep me at home. What the fuck???????? I'm only failing Chemistry, and I don't care about that fucking class. WHAT IS THE WORLD'S PROBLEM? WHAT IS MY FUCKING PROBLEM? Is it just me or does it feel like I'm no longer loved. Eh, who knows. People will just lie to me. I'm getting used to being lied to. I can't trust anyone anymore. It used to just be men. But my mom has been screwing me over my whole life. And girls are gossipy bitches!  What the fuck should I do next, huh? Should I try to look on the brightside of things? BECAUSE THAT FUCKING HELPS, RIGHT? Should I give up on myself and just go with it and be called a failure? Should I kill myself? Should I just disappear? I think you all would actually be a lot happier if I just wasn't around you all. If you'd like, I won't talk to you anymore. I promise. And I think you can trust me. I can't trust you, but if you dare, you can try me.

My mouth's shooting blanks. This situation's unbearable.
I've gotten vulnerable. Now anyone is
free to waltz right in.
My temple's been invaded and there's nobody guarding it.
All over this lonely life,
but what's so wrong with being all alone? Alone's the only way i've ever known.

Does anyone else think I'm bipolar? I was reading through all these entries and stuff and I realized that sometimes I suddenly just change my mind....and I start yelling or lecturing.
Right now I just have some pretty intense stuff going on...I'm trying to forget about it, but it's really hard. I should have kept it to myself, but I told someone. By the way, I'm really sorry. 
But I'm packing my stuff, I'm doing homework, doing laundry, and I'm about to eat some soup. I heart soup.

Dreams are a reflection of what we want deep in our subconscious. Our subconscious is not a happy place. It holds our deepest fears, I most secret longings, it holds things that we do not even know about ourselves. Usually all our wants, needs, fears, and secrets come out in dreams. The dreams may seem odd sometimes, that is when you must look into the dream and interpret the meanings behind the symbols, which is why dreams may seem so weird. Sometimes when we wake up we can't remember the dream. This is usually because our subconscious is holding back the memory. This happens a lot when you have a nightmare. You jolt awake and can't remember why. You really don't want to remember what scared you so terribly. You don't want to know what is hidden. It might damage you because if you couldn't just out and admit it consciously, how could you stand just to suddenly realize it? I dream. And I remember the nightmares. I remember the dreams. In one nightmare I was trying to clean a statue of Mary and straighten up a graveyard and suddenly I stopped. I felt like I was being watched. So I went and began to swing on a swingset nearby. Suddenly in mid-air, I stopped swinging, and a loud buzzing filled my ears. I took this as I really want to be more involved in my faith, but am afraid to. I don't want people to know and I'm afraid I'll be made fun of. I don't know if God even still loves me. I had a dream just the other night, I was trying to hug a certain somebody and he kept saying no, and taking my arms and pulling them to my sides. So I tried to kiss him and he said no. He didn't want to touch me or talk to me. I think this is saying I'm really not over it. I care about it and I'm upset, but I'm also supposed to let go. While in real life I don't think he'd deny me a hug, it shows I need to let go and move on.

It's kind of weird to see all this. I've started a journal to try and figure out how I get in the moods I do. And it's simple. I've already figured it out today. I let myself. Instead of trying to fix it, I let it go. I've stopped trying to plan and run things, I've gone the complete polar exchange and now I don't care at all. 

The Dandy Warhols is what I want playing in the background of the movie of my life. I want it to open, me in the van with Emma driving around laughing, with my friends at school laughing, people at work laughing at the weird ways I try to inhale, and me laughing with them....then me lying in bed, just staring at the ceiling. Thinking. When I'm painting I want Shatterday from Vendetta Red, when I'm sleeping I want Lucky Man from The Verve. When I'm writing I want any Everclear...When I'm driving alone in the car I want Satellite from Dave Matthews. When I begin to cry alone because I'm afraid my mom will yell, my sister will worry, or my friends will get upset...I want Starry Eyed Surprise from Paul Oakenfold. When I feel sassy...Mondo '77 from Looper.....fill in the gaps with what you want....I don't mind a diverse genre.

Rest In Peace, Patloaf...you'll never know how much you meant to me.

What has happened the last year of my life...
-Pat died
-I had to go to Minnesota last summer
-I moved to Cape Girardeau
-I moved into a really crappy house
-I had to go to a new school, again. This time a Catholic one
-I discovered that it is possible to fail classes
-I got a job
-I got in trouble for shop lifting
-I crashed the van
-I got grounded a lot
-I did certain things I won't list on here
-Been more scared than ever in my life
-Met really weird people
-Re-started chain smoking
-Re-discovered myself
-Got caught coming home after sneaking out at 1 am
-Got really grounded
-Being made to move to Minnesota
-Been broken up with
-Been asked to prom
-Been called fat by the bitchy beauty queen Brenna Green
-Called into the office for hitting the bitchy beauty queen
-Been to a psychiatrist every week
-Got a stress rash
-Failing a lot of stuff
-Been called beautiful
-Gotten asked out by Jason (gross)
-cried bitterly for about 3 minutes
-Painted a lot
-Started and stopped halfway through writing 6 books
-Finally downloaded Limewire
-People actually inviting me places

Despite all that has happened...I think I'm happy. I'm not so worried as I was a month ago. My rash is sort of going away. While I can't go to prom, I felt special because I was asked. People told me I was beautiful and I started to feel it. While I feel like I've drawn a little more into myself this past week (or 4 days or something) I can honestly say I'm looking forward to summer. Not just because it's summer (duh) but because I'm excited about starting all over. I don't have to wear a uniform, I'm determined to not wear all black, I'll do what I want. I might still smoke...who cares. I'll finish off my 6/7th school the way I want to! I'll take all english and art classes! I'll go to the Mall of America! I'll fly my friends up to see me(roundtrip and I'll pay for half your tickets, hint hint), I'll throw parties, I'll go out! I'll do it dammit!! I'll make fun of the way they talk! I'll have my own room...and I'll sleep naked! Weeee!! I might date people...see if it feels right, if it doesn't, then I'll just go with the flow. I'll go ice fishing with my Grandpa Bob, I'll play basketball with Brad and Matt. I'll call my best friends and write letters (by the way, I need your all's addresses)and send random packages. Perhaps I'll be happier. Perhaps I'll find I'm not. Either way, just like a certain someone, I have to try it.

Okay...all better...I was told I was pretty afterwards by my brother and Camden...I don't feel as bad about moving and I'm not constantly worried! Wee! But in a way I hope that if I do take a year off before college...I hope I still have another chance. I give all men a second chance...maybe I'll get one too. But if this happens again, I swear I'm gonna be a lesbian! I'm so confused as to what to do though? What are they gonna do? Je-sus. Cheese and rice got all muddy!!! *giggle* yeah

I knew it...remember? I said she made me nervous. I knew it. But I'm happy for you, for both of you. I know that you'll be happier, she's a more positive person. You can see one another, you've known eachother a long time. But right now...with everything that's going on....no...no, nevermind. It's better. Now I'm not worrying...or am I? Oh God....I really don't know, I've imagined this before. Once again my mom found out and she didn't help. All she did was say it was better. I don't know what to do. I really don't. Remember when I told you I couldn't live without you? No, shut up, shut up, shut up...you're still around. Sort of. Okay. I don't know. I've dealt with break up before, it's okay. Nevermind. Oh, I don't know...

peekaboo

HAPPY 4/20! EVERYONE GET HIIIIIIIGH!!!

This from Abby...and it makes me happy...it's too bad Abby and Happy don't rhyme...Appy and happy...Abby and habby...i like habby....

Maybe soon it'll be all better...maybe soon I won't feel blind terror every time an announcement comes on the intercom. Maybe I'll stop screaming at people to wear their seatbelts. Maybe I'll just remember that I got to see him last. Maybe I'll remember I didn't know him that well. I'm so sorry...so sorry. I remember, I don't want to. Perhaps soon everyone will stop asking me about it. Perhaps soon it'll all just go away. I won't hurt, I won't cry, I'll be numb.

I hate air conditioning. First it's beautiful outside, just open the door and let real air in. Turn on a fan, but the air conditioner is loud, it uses a lot of electricity, and it gets too cold eventually. Last night I had the windows open and I was lying on my bed with no covers on. I wake up this morning and my sister has turned on the air conditioner...AND IT'S REEEEALLY COLD! Ack...I don't like the cold. Me and Minnesota aren't going to get a long well in that way. Their summer is like our fall, their fall is like our winter, their winter is something we've never experienced, their spring is still winter..and then we come full circle. And it rains a lot. (Lot's of lakes do that) 
But I have to admit, I'm pretty excited, not about a new school, I'd rather be homeschooled, but getting away from all this might be good. Then maybe I wouldn't be so uptight.

So I've decided on a new book. I can't seem to stick with one book I've started to write. I have different moods in which I write. The whimsical one (as seen in a previous entry) was written while listening to Death Cab For Cutie, it was raining and thundering, I had candles, and it was 2 am. That makes for a different type of story. But I found that if I tried to write while I was angry, the story began to sound different. So I stopped. I started writing another story, but the character sounded too much like me, if I wanted a book about me, I'd write my own story. So I've started on a new one...I think it's okay so far, but I hate starting books because they sound so boring in the beginning. But I haven't written much...but it's going, and I guess I'll just switch between books with my moods.