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21 June 2012 @ 09:27 am

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I am utterly exhausted.

Tuesdays are my most packed-in days: I don't have to wake up early, but I've got all relatively difficult classes from 11 through to 3. No lunch break unless one decides to let out early. Then a couple hours until a 6:30 Biodiversity class.

I just got back, and I'm barely alive.

I don't want to complain about all my classes, because none of them are just lay-back classes; they are all going to require work, and they're all reading/writing intensive.

It hurts my brain just to anticipate what is to come.

I'm pissy and tired and I just got back to my room to find it empty and the bi-polar in me wants to throw a fit because I really was hoping Jess would be here to make me smile.

I don't want to see anyone else right now.
I might break something.

Thank god I only have one class tomorrow, and it's not until 10.

I was happy though that Brendon-Boy is in my class.
I do find him exceptionally cute.
Prettier than Australian-Boy, even.
Aussie-Boy only beats him because he has such an adorable accent, and Brendon-Boy seems too set in his opinions.

Screw them both.
I want Sid Vicious.
Current Location: Bell, 210
Current Mood: bitchybitchy
Current Music: Arcade Fire- "Rebellion(Lies)"; Sex Pistols-"God Save the Queen"
08 January 2009 @ 11:41 pm
I need to stop watching stupid movies and reading stupid fanfiction and WRITING stupid fanfiction and watching stupid anime that all have true fucking love in them.

It makes me want to punch something. Like, I wish I was strong enough to put my fist through the wall. Pain would be a good distraction.

I could use a little drama. It would be nice, a change of pace. I want a boy to look at me and like me and fucking do something about it.

I'm so sick of waiting.

I guess that's what I get for passing up the chance when it was right in front of me.

Now he's with some fake-blonde bitch and won't even call me back.

I'm sorry I didn't answer the first time.

It's all one big mistake, but unlike in the movies, I don't have the reckless gall to run back to you.

So you just stay with you blonde bitch and I'll sit here twiddling my thumbs, waiting for someone as half-decent as you to find me.

Because you're my figure of comparison you know.

You always will be.
Current Location: home.
Current Mood: discontentdiscontent
Current Music: La Campenella- Adam Aleksander
04 January 2009 @ 09:50 pm
The setting is most stereotypical, with dim light blinking from a single bulb hanging over a folding table. One leg of the table is bent, so it stutters awkwardly and sends the single pack of cigarettes sliding to the edge when you breathe too hard. Your faces are shadowed (it wouldn't be stereotypical if they weren't) and the burning end of a lit cigarette glows briefly as the outlines across from you inhales tar into their lungs through the little filter. Smoke drifts towards the light bulb, and someone coughs, causing the cigarettes to fall off the edge of the folding table and pitter helplessly on the floor.

No one moves to pick them up.

"You should really put that out."
Your voice was young, casual, bored at best. You pull a small glass ashtray from the darkness and set it on the table, giving it a slight nudge with your fingertips towards the curling smoke across from you.
The smoker shifts in his chair, the neon orange of the cigarette glowing for a millisecond before another hand enters the dim tent of light, squishing the cigarette into the glass of the ash tray, twisting it around before retracting to the edge of the shadow, fingertips tapping an unknown beat lightly on the crooked surface. You can't help but notice that even with the yellow of his fingertips, his hand was beautiful. The skin was scarred, purposeful lines etched by razor blades like a tree, following his veins down around his palm, the trunk of the tree forming down his wrist and expanding into roots on his forearm. Branches of white scars curls around his fingers, contrasting gently with the otherwise smooth, youthful peach of his skin. His fingers are long, like spiders. Delicate.

The dead cigarette butt was still barely smoking, wistful curls diligently ascending towards the flickering bulb above.

"So..." His voice was deep and rich and smooth, like chocolate and honey and rose petals. He coughed gently to clear his throat from invisible nonsense. "What did you say your name was?"
It occurs to you that there are rays of evening light in his voice too. And possibly the ocean.

You shift, still watching his hand, blunt nails playing the keys of an invisible piano. The lopsided table trembles a bit with each tap.

You manage to keep your cool, sitting straighter in your chair as you say, "My name is Brendon."

There's a gentle scraping noise as he shifts his weight in his chair, leaning closer so you can barely see his features from the pathetic light. More shuffling, and the clicking of a lighter.

As he holds the flame to the end of the fresh cigarette, his face is briefly illuminated.
You gasp.

Dark lashes flutter against a scarred cheek, branches of soft white tracing ghostly patterns down all the way to his jawline, circling his eye and spreading over the side of his face. Each was in perfect detail, deliberate.

As the flame of the lighter disappeared, you thought could see his mouth turn up in a smirk.

"Hey Brendon. My name is Ryan."

Another drag of the cigarette sent a fresh vine of smoke to choke the dying light.
Current Location: Home
Current Mood: ditzyditzy
Current Music: "Ocean"- John Butler Trio; "On Tour With Zykos"-Okkervil River
It started this afternoon, when dad was making a turkey sandwich in the kitchen and I was watching from the window seat, mum making herself a salad on the other counter. Dad left some little scraps of turkey on the cutting board, setting it on the ground so the cat yowling around his feet could eat it.
I watched Cocoa, missing all her teeth but her canines, attempt to eat the scraps and that was when the first crack appeared.
She was mangy because her mouth was so disgusting from the infection that she couldn't clean herself for the pain; she'd been declawed as a kitten so her body was mildly disfigured because she couldn't stretch properly; she was slightly demented in that she howled at random hours; she was missing the litter box and throwing up everything she ate.
The first crack appeared as I watched her attempts to gum the bits of turkey into bite-sized chunks, and I broached the subject.
Mum didn't want to do it because she didn't want to go through the emotional stress of having to take the life of something so very much alive.
Dad didn't take a stance by agreeing with both ends of the argument. He saw what I was trying to say but sympathized with mum.

It was earlier this evening when we went to the vet. We were the only people there other than one other family: a mother and her two girls. The older girl had a toy poodle puppy. We took the cage and sat on the other side of the waiting room. The little girl, maybe 8, had never met a stranger in her life. She bounced over to us, asking to see our kitty, smiling and saying how cute she was! before bouncing over to the fish tank in the corner and commenting on how they each looked like the fish from Finding Nemo.
As we were called into the room, she called goodbye to the kitty.
The crack inside me was starting to resemble a fissure.

We talked to the vet. We discussed all options. Cocoa sat on the cold, slick surface of the examination table, green eyes wide. She didn't make much noise.

It was one of the most horrifying things to ever have to face: looking into the innocent eyes of an animal who has no control whatsoever over her life; to be the one making the decision whether she should live or die; to think of her being laid down, her heart slowly beating out its last moments...
and knowing she'd still be living if you hadn't said anything.

It's not guilt you feel because you're pretty sure you did the right thing, but it still haunts you that you made the decision, the judgment, that you're pretty sure only God has the right to make.

The vet has the courtesy to ask if we want to be there as he does it. Dad thanks him, but we all file out the door to sit back down in the waiting room.
The little girl is still there, and she sees the purple cat carrier and comes bounding up.
She looks up at mum, who is holding the cage, and asks, "Where's the kitty? Why are you crying?"
Mum's hand goes to her face and she chokes out, "She was old."

I pinch the bridge of my nose and squeeze my eyes shut to attempt to keep the fresh flood of silent tears from unrestrained onslaught.
The girl is beckoned back to her mother's side, and that fissure became a canyon.

Rest in peace, Cocoa-puff. I promise you, I did it only with the best intentions.
Tags: ,
Current Location: Home.
Current Mood: crushedcrushed
Current Music: "Tonight, Tonight"- PATD cover; "I can feel a hot one"- Manchester Orchestra
I woke up at seven this morning. I guess the greedy little child got the better of me, because I just couldn't manage to stay in the warmth of my bed long enough for my parents to enjoy their morning coffee in peace.
All in all, I would say I had a successful Christmas. I got my iPod, all 80 gigs of lovliness, and dad surprised me with a TomTom because, and I quote, "While getting lost can be a kind of adventure, with you it's just scary."
Thanks, dad.

Thats, and I raked in $400. That I'm not allowed to spend. I told dad I was putting half of it away "in case of an emergency!" which in my language means video games once I'm back in Milly.
Tomorrow I'm going with the 'rents to Mall of GA to hit the after Christmas sales. I'm going to buy Fifi another Christmas present because she had such a shitty time in Florida (babe, I'm so sorry...) and maybe something else to throw into Jess' birthday present (that I want to get into the mail tomorrow...if I can remember.)

So we had an epic feast today for dinner. A full 12 pound turkey for three people.

Mum wants me to go play a game with her now. I really do love them...
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Current Location: Home
Current Mood: thankfulthankful
Current Music: "5 Years Time"- Noah and the Whale
24 December 2008 @ 06:29 pm
It's a dismal little Christmas this year, but I'm fully appreciating it with all my heart. It helps to let the greedy little girl in me shine through, and I can ignore the politics talk and fact that we aren't a whole family anymore because Eva's in California and my favorite aunt has officially shut us out of her life.

I hope everyone manages to find some part of christmas to enjoy; it took a breakdown for me to appreciate it at all, and I'm glad I got it over with early.

Just...be thankful for the small things. The fact that your family does love you, or like Patricia said, the dessert. It's not about the presents, right?

Haven't you ever watched the Christmas Carol??

Current Location: Home
Current Mood: hyperhyper
It seemed that once I got everything off my chest things went back to normal. By normal, I mean that I wouldn't be surprised if my parents are tip-toe-ing around me now, but at the same time I don't think they are.
Mum still talks to me; I was worried some of the things I had said would have offended her so much that she'd start avoiding me, but that seems not to be the case. We're decorating for chrismas now, despite the fact that it's only four days away...I know I'm getting my iPod, but mum says she's got something else that's a surprise.

This is me hoping in vain for a used PS2 of my own!

Dad just got back from tennis and the house is a mess. Wrapping stuff is everywhere, packing stuff too. It made me sad to receive packages that didn't have bubble wrap, but dad pointed out that the air bubble things they use now make more noise. Our vacuum has been broken, so we went to get a new one.

But I think I'm missing the point of this entry.
I am relieved. The Christmas spirit has saved me, in reality, from taking the consequences of all the horrible things I said.
I'm not sure all of what mum told dad, but the next day when we went all together to get a tree he held me tight and told me he missed not seeing me last night.

Sometimes, I guess the trick is just to remember to count your blessings, huh?

I had a conversation with mum last night about how I want a beautiful baby. I want a son who will grow up to be tall but strong and with dark hair and light eyes. Mum made the mistake of pointing out that I have an amazing gene pool to choose from; that I may even get violet eyes. The very idea of a beautiful, dark-haired son with violet eyes made me melt inside. So I went to bed, with the visions of this beautiful child in my head.

I had a dream last night, of a perfect boy who fell in love with me. He had sandy blonde hair and dark eyes.
It's one of those dreams that you wish you could never wake up from because you're certain that has to be what love feels like--
but you can only have it in your dream, somewhere where it isn't quite real.

You're a figure of fun to everyone
Beneath the lone star, neon blue broken sign
They wish they were you
Like I wish you were mine
What a dumb thing to do

How come I shout goodbye when god knows I just want to
Make this white lie big enough to climb inside
With you.
Tags: , ,
Current Location: Home
Current Mood: refreshedrefreshed
Current Music: Okkervil River- "On Tour With Zykos"
I wish I had kept by goddamned mouth shut. But I can't do that can I, or my whole passive-aggressive nature wouldn't be what it is.
Everyone knows that I didn't want to come home. When Jess left, I was more lonely than I had ever felt, plus I knew I would be going home to more guilt trips and worthlessness and "wow Lin, you've changed" but not necessarily for the better.
So I come home for the weekend then split to Athens with Sofia for three days. I stay home just long enough for everyone to not get on each other's nerves quite yet.
Dad didn't want me to go to Athens. Insert guilt trip number one here. That leaves me wondering through Athens with it hanging over the back of my head day and night, feeling bad because I'm worried I've screwed up some non-existent plans of theirs (because they both work until five or six every day anyway...)and that mom has to put up with dad's bitchiness while I'm gone.
I try really hard yesterday on our way home to make sure to inform them I'm going to be a little late, and I let mom know that I have her stupid fourth twilight book sitting right next to me. I also let her know that I've already eaten so that they won't have to wait for me, and I get a text back saying "I made your favorite turkey chili and you're not going to eat with us?".
Oh. Insert guilt trip two here.
That's when the tears start. Sofia manages to quell them for the time being, at least until we get to her house, but my eyes begin prickling as I climb into my car and head home.
I finally get back, tired and depressed. The first thing my mom asks me as soon as I get in the door:
"Do you have my book?"
I realize suddenly that I've left it in Sofia's car because I took it out of my bag to get something else. I explain this.
"You're not going to set foot inside this door until I have my book."
So I grab my bag and leave, slamming the door behind me.
I shouldn't have been driving, as numb as I was. But I did, the 20-25 minutes back to Sofia's house, where I grab the book and start heading back. Back in town I parked my car in one of the parks and sat and cried, even though the tears had been flowing freely since I slammed my front door leaving. A police car passed by and I eventually left. I could barely see the road between the stupid drizzle and my own tears.
It is here, in my mindless drive home that several options run through my head. I want to go home and throw the book in my mom's general direction, slam the door, and run to my room. I want to call Sofia or Alyssa and see if I can just chill at their place, but they both have family and I couldn't bring myself to impose. I wanted to call Eva and talk to her about it because she of all people would understand what I'm feeling; but she wasn't there to just hold me and tell me it was okay, which I needed even more than comforting words at that point.
Then, I needed to call Jason. I wanted more than anything to have someone who would hold me and not ask any questions until I was ready to volunteer answers.
I did none of these things, but drove home instead.
I manage to get back home and I sit in my car and wait for one of them to realize I'm out there.
It takes a good 30 minutes before mom comes out.
She asks me what's wrong, and I just shove her piece of shitty literature at her and attempt to close the door again.
Completely oblivious, she asks what's wrong again.
That's when everything comes pouring out and two seconds after I had finished my hysterical sobbing I realized I should have kept my mouth shut.
I told her how I loved them but I hated coming home, but I still did because otherwise I felt guilty for disappearing like Eva did and I wasn't going to do that to mom especially.
That's what I tried to say. My mind wasn't exactly working at that point.
Then I realize just how stupid and selfish I'm being by hurting her like this and it just starts all over.

When I've kinda calmed down, we head back inside. I grab my mini-suitcase and head to my room. I manage to get to my bed without killing myself (for all the crap piled on my floor) and ditch my jeans to curl up under my heated blanket.
A new wave of sobs.
When those have subsided, I reach over and turn my electric blanket up because my legs are bare and the sheets are cold. Mom comes in and tells me good night, and that she loves me more than anything. I sniffle, and wait until she's gone to get up and go hunt down my anti-anxiety pills. I'm not supposed to take them before I go to bed because they'll give you crazy ass dreams or not let you sleep. I take one anyway because anything is better than the horrific guilt that won't get out of my head.
I go back to bed.
I sleep on and off all night.

I wake up this morning, tired. I can't stop regretting what I said. My eyes were crusted over with sleep. Max was on my bed, and I curled up to him for a little while.

At 12, I'm going to go mail christmas presents and eat lunch with mom.
I can't forgive this.
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Current Location: home.
Current Mood: depresseddepressed
Current Music: Kevin Devine- "You'll Only End Up Joining Them"
15 December 2008 @ 03:10 pm

I failed. It doesn't bother me as much as it probably should. I know I'll just get a lecture form the rents and nod my head and say, yeah, I'll try harder next time. All the classes I'm taking next semester are my strengths, being mostly english related classes. I can pull myself out of this.

Right now I'm on the fourth floor of some building on the UGA campus. All I know is that there's this really awkward statue out the window in front of me. Fifi is downstairs on the first floor taking her poli-sci exam, I think. I'm typing this entry on her computer, listening to her iPod. It's a good thing she has good music, huh?

I made us grilled cheese earlier, and I'm hoping we can go get food enough for the next couple days at some point today, because while I'm used to not eating very much, being without food to the point of the fridge being empty is a little unnerving. I like at least the illusion of food to be there, ne?

This is going to be a good week, I can already feel it!
Tags: ,
Current Location: Athens
Current Mood: crazycrazy
Current Music: The Cab-"Take My Hand"