Damage Control

As of late I have been assigning myself to take care of those who matter to me. More so than I have done before. I've become some sort of guardian. Looking after them and correcting all that has been made wrong. I fix their world, or attempt to, putting them back together so they can carry on and find happiness. Happiness I get barely a glance at. It's left me wondering, today as I have found another whom I need to save, who saves me? Right now, as I am so confused about everything around me, I am searching for anyone who needs assistance. Why I am drawn to helping those who need it when my need to be saved is at a maximum is beyond me.
Though I would like to save every one of them, the fact is that I will completely fail them in the end. Crushes my heart and batters my soul to know that it will come to it. I want so badly to fix everything, yet I have the knowledge that I cannot possibly do that. I cannot even come close.

Erro.

Tristan and Isolde

I just watched Tristan and Isolde and cried my eyes out. How I can see what I'm typing with no eyes is beyond me. But seriously, that was the saddest movie I've seen in a long while. It has actually lowered my mood. And it wasn't very stable to begin with.

I was pondering the facts of my risky behavior of late. The sneaking around to see her. I put so much on the line every time, and now if she were to find out... I'd become a prisoner of my own 'home'. Home isn't anything but a house where I live. Even though you can hardly call it living. I've always been the star daughter. Perfect grades, I never got grounded; outside of my very frequent illnesses, I would have thought to have been perfect. But this has done nothing but completely ruin my outlook on everything. I don't live for anything. I do what I'm told when I'm told. I do everything I'm supposed to and nothing I'm not. I feel as if I am nothing.
How can she love nothing?

If mom finds out: my computer and phone will be taken away in a heart beat, I will lose computer privileges at school, I will be forbidden to go anywhere other than school and back home. And yet I keep risking and will continue risking everything for her. Simply because with her, I am no longer nothing. I have something to live for. I come closer to feeling whole.

all this brought on by a two hour long love story. The legend of Tristan and Isolde.

Erro.
Go look up what Erro means.

Musing

I often think about everything in the shower. That's the only place that doesn't hold distractions so I can get through a thought process without having to start and stop. This could be why my showers are so long. Today, I was thinking about last summer. I think about that a lot but today I was thinking a little out of the box of what I normally do. On a regular day, I reflect and remember. Today, though, was very different.

When asked the question by my imaginary counsel that allows me to see things from different views, "If you had had a way of knowing all that has happened, would you have done anything different in those first few hours before and after meeting her?"
Now, this question took lots of consideration. If I had known everything that happened from the time I met her till the present before I had even said anything to Michael about her, would I have no said anything? This is a definite no. Would I have fought falling in love with her? Yes. But I did that anyway. Though, I may have just passed her by, if I had known everything that was to happen, simply because I am so afraid of the complexities that has come with all of this. I may have done it out of fear that I didnt know how much I could take. It's almost a blessing that I had no idea, because I would have missed out on the most spectacular experience of my life.

I wonder how much things would be different if everything would have panned out differently. Would I have this new sense of self that has come over the past six months? Would I have been happier? Or more lonely? All of these questions can never be answered, but I spend hours musing; trying to figure out what the answers might be.

Erro.

I dream of shopping malls and searching.

Climax from the bite marks. (do it)

random nonsense that you wont understand and we're going to keep it like that.

Bruises for Spring Pictures. (mom will love that)

I have a safety pin jabbing into my uterus right a present. (it's a good time)

I wish I got more comments, so if you're reading this, you should comment.

Who thinks it's time for a new skin? (eye due)

But you try finding one. Pain in my ass.

Long fingernails running down pale skin. (another good time, huh?)

That's enough of this. Plus, it's seven. Who on earth honestly writes entries before seven in the morning? Apparently me.

Lay Tah
Erro.

I Didn't Dream Last Night

Let me go back to sleep. Submerge me in darkness so I don't remember that I'm here now, alone. My bed is empty and loneliness is rising above the charts. I'm angry and sad and happy and tired and will not be touched in any way, shape, or form for at least two weeks. This sounds sexual, and part of it is, but what I mean most by it is just those little gestures that show you that someone cares. I love being touched; hugs, hands on shoulders, and just about anything else you can think of within the limits of who's doing it. This all sounds so awkward, but it really isn't. Coming from about fifteen hours straight of literally almost no NON-contact, it's a very weird thing to not be touched. And a very weird thing to go to sleep in an empty bed, not to mention actually sleeping. Another weird thing is that my bed doesn't move. One night of a different, glorious place and now my norm is different. I want to go sleep in that water bed that was so warm and have someone next to me the whole time. I want hours upon hours of contact with other people rather than my solitude I'm forced into here.
To top it all off, my addictive personality has decided to find another addiction, though it's one that I cannot fuel by my lonesome. So here we go with perhaps withdrawal. Dear Lord, I hope my weeks pass quickly and we can pull this off again.

Screw off, if you don't know what it is that I'm talking about. This seems like just ramblings that are made up in delirium that isn't so delirious anymore, but it's not. Don't ask. I'm not telling.

Erro

Morning Laughter

H: Wow, that's magic.
K: No it's not!
H: That must be YOU I smell, then.
K: That's not funny
H: I wasn't laughing.

A conversation between my two sisters on the way to school this morning. Followed by a grand show of adoration for Hanna, a seven year old who has the best come backs. And of course, laughing till I was crying and gasping for breath.

Coughing and Cash (or the lack thereof)

I'm pretty sure half of one of my lungs is laying in a mucusy mass on the stairs outside my room. This cold that I've acquired from who knows where is quite the thing to deal with. I cant breathe, I am beginning to have coughing fits. Perhaps I was right when I was told my friends I thought I had tuberculosis.
In other news: It's three days till Valentine's Day and I have no money nor any vague idea what I'd get her if I did. This, to me, is becoming unacceptable, on account of I didn't get her anything for Christmas either. Maybe I should make something. But then, what would I make? I could write, but my words don't come as easily as they used to. I'm in a creative block. I have no inspiration, nothing that I haven't done a million times before.

If the entries stop, you'll know I've suffocated on my own body fluids that are pouring into my lungs.

Erro.

MI GAWD

"I don't care about the gay thing, I know she's been in trouble with the law, you need to make better decisions"

Cracks me up that she refers to it as 'the gay thing'. But honestly, what does the other have anything to do with anything? She still has it in her head that I will get wrapped up with the wrong people and do bad things. She completely overlooking the fact that no matter whom I get involved with, I know what's right and wrong and no matter what they are taking part in, I'll do what I know I should be doing. It's impossible for me to do any different. Plus, I make it my business to not encourage things of the sort.
And last but not least: decisions?! When did I decide to fall in love with her? If I had had any say in it, I wouldn't have. I'm not going to lie. There in the first week I fought with my life not to. Simply because I knew it was going to be very difficult. Excuse me, woman. It must have been a while since you fell in love. But I can assure you, it isn't a decision.

Why?

The night before last, I did something I probably shouldn't have. Which is fine because it happens. Oh kay, so maybe it's not fine because of my tendency to become very impulsive with it and continue. But this isn't where the worst comes in.
Last night I told Heather. I don't know why I told her when I was making it a point of not telling anyone. Mostly because I knew I was letting so many people down. I don't know why I told her. But I did. And in doing so, hurt her. I wanted to cry and throw things. I hated myself. I still do.
I have something so wonderful and I never fail to fuck it up somehow. Why do I hurt people? Why cant I just leave things be?

No one should know me. I'm not worth it.