Jumble

I've started about five separate entries to no avail. I feel like all I do is repeat myself anymore. Writing about the same stupid emotionally dramatic nothings over and over again, my life constantly spinnning in a cycle, the same problems appear over and over, never resolved; the psycological definition of insanity. I'm tired of being so boring on here, and more, I'm tired of working so hard, methodically scrutinizing every delicate word just to be boring. I miss the days when blog writing came easy-the days I just put down what I felt and it came out as poetry-but I suppose life was easier then too.

I want to write about internet boy. I've tried, but I just can't find the words. I feel like I've over-discussed every aspect of that relationship with everyone from him to my cat to the extent that words have lost all value and the emotion behind them has been vanquished. With him it kind of seems like I'm just waiting for the storm. We're just on two very different pages in life; so much that I;m not even sure we're in the same book anymore. It's too much work and it shouldn't be. I kind of don't even want to be friends anymore, but I'm not quite sure that erasing him will be as easy as it sounds. I have a feeling we'll be in limbo for a while as he jumps from girl to girl with no avail and then back to me for support, so I think I've got time to figure it out. Or maybe just wing it when the moment strikes; I've wasted too much time thinking about him anyway. I'm really just apathetic at this point-like the Novocaine before they drill your teeth, I'm trying to numb myself before we get to the part that hurts.

Part of me wants to write about school and my general apathy towards life-how there's something about my house that just makes me feel as if I am fighting to hang on to my soul. When I'm out it doesn't strike so much, but at home it's just constantly painful. There's too many bad memories. The walls, the people, they make me feel hopeless. I want to feel powerful, excited, enthused, eager, the way I did all summer; but when I gaze into the foggy skies of my plexy-glass bubble, I feel nothing but trapped without even a shimmery ray of hope for escape.
I want to talk about how this bubble, this apathy is eating me alive inside-or rather how I'm eating it, burying ever negative thought or feeling inside me with any food I can get my hands on, struggling to build up a nice tasty layer of false-happiness to keep me from drowning in a sea of black. So many things, things I have repressed my entire life as well as recent issues, a myriad of thought and pain and pattern and subliminal messages that I cannot even begin to understand, let alone describe, that all seem to be cataclysmicly encroaching at the exact moment that I need them to disappear.


I finished Breaking Dawn last week, and I loved the part about Bella describing how when she became a vampire, everything became mentally clearer; like there was so much space in her head that she never knew was there before. I can't remember the last time I felt compotent. Like I felt like I knew what the hell was going on. My brain is just a jumbled slur that can't focus on anything but pleasurous activities for any given length of time. It's terribly frustrating to be so mentally unfocused all the time, it makes me understand how difficult it must be to become senal. I miss the days when life was simple enough that could at least follow along. I know what's causing the problem, what's affecting all of my problems: clinical depression. But I don't want to deal with it. I'm scared that if I try to deal with it, if I allow myself to be raw and exposed and vulnerable, that I will simply be taken advantage of as I always have by anyone I've ever trusted, and worse, that I will never get control of the pain again. It's taken me such a long time to develop control.

Girl

She lives inside of me and she slips out in wavering moments-after a long day, a failed test, a broken heart.

Though sometimes quieter than others, her voice is always there. It whispers hateful nothings in my ears. Telling me I'm ugly, and stupid, and unloved.

She wants freedom. She wants to be let lose as I made the mistake of doing once before. The freedom she offers is tempting-when she is lose I have no ties with anyone, just me, just power. She claws at my insides. Sometimes I'm worried that if I lose control, she'll take over again-that I'll become someone I don't recognize.

She is wrath. Nothing more. She wants to be more, but she can't. She hates everyone, whether they do anything or not; she hates them simply because they exist. She knows it's wrong, she knows it won't make her feel better, but she can't help it. All she sees is red. She wants to make every living creature suffer as much a she does. She wants to watch them squirm in agony.

This girl is dangerous. Not just to the people who dare cross her path, but sometimes to herself. She worries that one day she's going to lose it. The way she muses about slicing her delicate wrists after a devastating day, the way she wishes she could throw up that piece of cake she shouldn't've eaten, the masochistic moments where the logic of right and wrong is the only thing holding her feet firmly to the floor.

She attempts to mask her pain as anger. She's just so hurt she doesn't know how to fix herself. She feels like Pandora's box, wanting to be released; but she's afraid-she isn't so sure there's any hope at the bottom.

I know that I can control her. I know from experience that even when she gets out, even when I hit rock bottom, I can fix it again. But it's scary to think that a part of yourself is that dark. It makes you feel like such a freak. =/

Happy

What's her name?
Is she pretty?
Is she sweet?
Is she what you want?
Is she going to make you happy?
I want you to be happy...I just kind of thought it would be with me =/

Box of Awesome

I have a box of awesome that I keep in my closet.
I keep it on the highest shelf,
in the very back,
where no one can see.

It's mostly just for special occasions--for liberating moments;
But I like to take it down and look through it from time to time.

I don't ever really remember a time without it.
It's something that I inherited along with my blue eyes and milky skin, though I'm not really sure from whom.

I try to fill it up--the goal is to complete it, to become truly awesome--but there always seems to be something missing.

Sometimes I get discouraged.
I worry I will never be as awesome as people like Christina and Peter.
People who's awesome runs deep.
People who don't even have to try.

Sometimes I get so discouraged that I want to get rid of the box, to give it to someone that is worthy; but some how I can never part with it.
I like to take it down and look through it from time to time.

It's one of the only things I possess that reminds me of the beauty the world has to offer outside of my four walls--this box of awesome in my closet.

A Journalistic Bond

With just 7 short days left, I have been thinking a lot about going home. The sad thing is, I feel like I am one of the only kids here who really doesn't want to leave. In California I have a nice house in a nice neighborhood with a nice room. I have two little brothers and two cocker spaniels and a neurotic mother, and four crazy cats, all of whom are nice enough. I have a shinny silver car and a school full of girls that I love to death, but there are many things that home does not have.

Home does not have dorm rooms that I can cover in magazine collages. Home does not have cup stacking champions, baton twirlers, soft-rap bands, or crazy Asian ninjas. At home, I cannot walk to the beach in my free time, eat red mango as I please, or sit on a street-corner with four new friends as we manage to earn eight dollars singing along with the strumming of Ian's acoustic guitar. Home does not have any of the things I have discovered and fallen in love with here at Cherubs. Most importantly, home does not have 82 brilliantly minded young journalist who evoke awe, encouragement, and inspiration in me all at the same time.

When I walked into Jones hall on June 28th, sweaty and out of breath and 20 minutes late, I was not in a fabulous mood. When I glanced around the room at my fellow Cherubs with un-goggled eyes and noticed the sign that said "Welcome to the best summer of your life" I scoffed. "Psha, right." *eye roll* But looking back on it now, I can easily say these have been some of the best five weeks of my life so far. I've grown up, literally with one of the most amazing birthdays of my life, and figuratively with amazing lectures from John and Joe and Jenny and all of the staff.

(And yes, for the record, I have learned from the lectures despite an unfortunate sleeping habit that cannot go without mention that I seem to have developed which has left several people asking me if I am narcoleptic which, for the record I am not. At home I actually have trouble sleeping...but anyway, I'm just gonna hope that the instructors can forgive me and that twenty years from now that embarrassing factor of my Cherub persona will have selectively escaped all of your memories...)

Moving on,

I would love to say that all of us could be friends forever. To put it more exactly and to quote one of my favorite movies of all time, "I wish I could bake a cake out of rainbows and smiles and everyone would eat it and be happy..." but unfortunately, life just doesn't work like that. I mean, I'm going to hope that with the power of the internet we all stay friends and help each other take over the media world someday, but if ten years from now, we don't remember each other, it's ok. Because as much as I adore each of you, this experience isn't about the individuals or even necessarily the individual AP style rules *gasp*, it's about the journey and the lessons as a whole.

I now understand why the speakers we've had light up when they proudly say that they too were Cherubs, or why they still bring up there Cherub friends, or even why they give up a piece of there summer to come hang out with a bunch of high school kids.

Cherubs is kind of like a net that binds us all together. We have a common bond that bridges memory and generation. We were all here. We all climbed three flights of two sets of thirteen stairs a ridiculous number of times during the all day story. We all walked "fifteen" minutes in unruly weather to get to the fourth of July parade. And we did all of this constantly faced with the threat of the dreaded Sunday morning spit list.

And to further this analogy and continue on my overly-sappy address, I simply feel like I must note the rope in this net. A fro-yo loving Nebraskan who is kind of magic in my eyes. I mean, think about it, over the history of journalism Cherubs, he has slowly but surly been responsible for bringing each and every one of us here. It is no wonder why the biggest smile on the faces of former Cherubs seems to come at the mention of the name Roger Boye. I mean who could forget "N-H-S-I News ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch".

So to wrap this up, I think we all came here feeling like big fish...and then slowly had that beat out of us. But as we all of back to our prospective ponds, I hope we all realize that we have grown here, and that in life, when we feel like small fish we can remember looking around a Cherub-filled room 217 Fisk Hall and know that even though said binding net is no longer present in a physical sense, we are not alone.

Thank you.

Scientific Method

Forgive me if I've lead you on, but the thing is, it was all just a test. I wanted to know what it would be like if I didn't guard myself, if I gave into you. I meant know harm. We're both happy here, right? So I really don't see a reason to rock the boat. The thing is, I care about you. Not sure on what level or to what extent, but I certainly do. I got tired of thinking and re-thinking and over thinking; so I just let go. I just said, "Aww, baby, I miss you too." ...That's ok, right? I mean I felt it. The only problem is, I can tell your falling in love with me. I'm trying to warn you. Call me Edward freaking Cullen, but the best thing for you is for you to stay away from me no matter how hard it may be. I'm not sure where this is going. Brand new procedure; just sitting back watching the mixture bubble, watching you fall for me, saying what I feel and not caring what I think. I apologize in advance if this explodes. I really am not meaning to singe your internal organs with noxious gas; just applying a new solution to an old problem. Just trying to let go like you told me to. It's all just an experiment.

Internet Boy

Well none of my friends are picking up their phones, so I thought I'd blog, because writing always helps me think better when my head is jumbled. And though I could just write this and save it on some random file in my computer, blogging makes it feel like someone's actually listen (though the fear of who might be listening means I probably won't post this). So here goes, no specifics, just thoughts.

I didn't expect to like him. He isn't my type. It doesn't make sense. My friends would shutter. I think I worry too much what they think.

I like him. Well, I think I like him. How do any of us ever really know if we like anyone? I've always been confused by that. But I think I do. I like talking to him. I get excited from his text messages. I miss him when he's gone. I think about him all the time. I literally plied out of bed this morning...literally, plied...as in ballet...it was ridiculous. I can't stop smiling all week thinking about him and my head is just constantly spinning...That means I like him, right?

But I feel skeptical of it all. I don't feel something that I've felt with others. Desire dare I say? It isn't as he makes me drool or anything (gross image, sorry bout that). But then again, does that matter? Does what someone looks like really matter? "Yes!" every fiber of my being screams in a shallow undertone; but I really don't know.

When he's gone, doubt creeps in. I laugh at myself. What am I thinking? This is crazy! One should not want to rush home to talk to a screen. I'm beginning to feel like that girl from the retreat. At the time, her story seemed trivial. Seriously, who would get so worked up over some internet boy? But now, I have a feeling karma has come to bite me in the ass. I was meant to hear that story. Perhaps it was a warning. Perhaps I should've listen more instead of just absent-mindedly stuffing my face full of goldfish.

And then there's the whole visit thing. I'm finding myself a tad petrified. I don't know if I can handle this, I mean, it's seriously freaking me out. Most people would say that if something feels wrong, you shouldn't do it, but that's just the thing, everything feels wrong to me. My gut is naturally evasive to love due to my lack of exposure to it, and this evasiveness only further limits my exposure; cruel cycle eh? Anyway, focus Katherine, so next week, I is afraid. I'm worried I won't be what you expect, or you won't be what I expect, or I'll fuck things up again like I did with Kiefer. I'm hoping having Christina there will help; she knows how to keep me sane. But then again, what if I attach myself to her as I often do at school? That would be awkward.

I know, I over-think everything. It sucks. I hate it. I wish I could just turn it off and just feel. Just want something and go for it with no hesitations. I think that's what I really like most about you, you're so comfortable with yourself. You don't care what anyone things, you just are. It's so amazingly...dare I say sexy? I feel incredibly awkward using that word on the internet where someone might see.

I think that's part of my problem. I'm afraid of relationships, a lot of it cause I'm scared of messing them up and of getting hurt. Which, let's face it, at 16, there is inevitably going to be heartbreak. Not to mention something about them feels wrong. The way my mom talks about girls with boyfriends makes me feel like a bad person for wanting one. Though I rationally understand that her logic is warped, on some level, I've absorbed it, and it makes having feelings for anyone more complicated because somewhere deep inside, I am morally conflicted on a very primal level.

Thinking...

I just had a thought (shocking, I know, haha). So I frequently seem to find myself in these rather fucked up long distance relationships. My best friends usually live far away and I always seem to fall hardest for boys who are geographically unavailable. I don't know so much about the friends, but as for the guys, I wonder it if it has anything to do with my dad.

It's apparent that it has held to true to some extent, the cycle predicted to me since an early age that I would end up with a man like my father in attempts to repeat and correct the cycle that I could not as a child that is. I tend to fall for stoners; ngl, it just seems to happen despite my best attempts and childhood promises to myself that I never would I always seem to find them appealing somehow (whether I know at the time that they smoke or not). But then there's this whole geography thing. I mean, I only lived with my dad for what, 6 or 7 years before we moved and he only visited on weekends? Is that what this is about? Is that what I expect of a male relationship? Because in basic logic, that sounds incredibly stupid, I mean, come on now, I like distant stoners?! What a lovely description that is; I wonder if e-harmony has that category, eh? haha

There is one other very logical part to this: shear comfortability. To those of you who don't know me outside of school, I am terribly boy shy. I tend to babble, or be quiet, or just generally make an idiot out of myself; when it comes to guys I have zero confidence. I'm usually just preparing myself for their ridicule because somehow, that's just what I expect; anything else just confuses me. So to be in a relationship with someone far away is perfect for this. Technological barriers limit a sense of emotional connection and help me guard my heart. Not to mention the obvious convience of technology providing an excuse for not actually spending time with the person where I would a) be presented with expectations I would not know how to fill and b) probably blow it as result.

I don't know. The whole thing confuses me. It was just a thought.

jun10r year

I'm sitting in the library all alone because everyone else is gone for summer, so I thought, what a good time to reflect on the year that is now no more.

Here's some memories:

• Polo. Finding rides as the pool of non-driving juniors quickly evaporated. Finally getting to play for a change. Beating Catalina. Making new friends and chilling with old ones. The work outs are killer, but I love the way that in polo season, I have unity with girls that normally ignore me; and afterwords we all get along a little better.
• Football games. My first three. So much fun despite my very spazoid state of excitment. Can't wait til next year. (Hopefully I'll finally make it to a Homecoming, lol)
• Paying for the Back to School dance in quarters. That guy hated me so much. XD
• Boys. Lots of boys. Pratically a new one every week to the extent that I swear that Maria and Christina almost killed me. lol (Sorry ladies, but I love you for listening =)
• Giant Cookies! Discovering the bakery with Christina. Racing to make it in time Choral with our cookie remnants in hand one morning.
• Bus rides. Morning's with Gabby were so amazing; I so missed her when she left. I have a love/hate relationship with the bus. It's annoying to take and deal with immature freshman and the occassional child molester, but at the same time I love the sense of unity it has, the ability to people watch. I think I'm just fine to be done with it though, lol.
• English class. God that was amazing. Aside from pure visual enjoyment *winkwink*, in what other class can you get an A just for mentioning God a few times, or listen to Hayley Tamangi ask Mr. Micheletti to winter ball? We had a great group and some amazing afternoons. I'm goona miss that class so much. (BURDTTTT!!! hahaha, ily Kyra)
• Winter break. Having my mom set me up with Chaz at Christmas dinner and then stalking Calvin and making Twilight and Australia themed pizza's with Christina on New Years; simply epic.
• Twilight. Worst and funniest movie of my life. Can't go without mention.
• Early release days. Getting ice cream. Wandering to parks. Chagning shirts in bushes on sidewalks. Not caring where we were going because the only thing that mattered is that we were with our friends and we were free. I wish I could capture that feeling in a charm and wear it all the days of my life.
• FOB! Best concert of my life. Trying to co-ordinate everything was a nightmare, but it was so worth it (despite reeking of cheap beer for the next few days). I can't wait for the next one and for going to New Zealand with Christina to look for Jack, hehe.
• Canabera, Australia! hahaha, and all my other randomly amazing conversations with Joseph (and now Zoe too which makes me so happy =).
• Afternoons on the corner. Sometimes the only thing that helped me not kill myself all day (exageration for effect) was the thought of those 15 minutes aterschool with my friends, wondering who would be there today.
• Popular kid parties. Sounds trivial and so very Gossip Girl but I love it. It's taken me a long time to get where I am with the diverse group of friends that I do; and I so loving be friends with everyone and having that be okay. =)
• Staying up late. Last year it was all "bed by ten" and this year I stay up to three almost every other night. Exhausting but awesome to have the freedom to do so.

Overall, fabulous year. Thank you all for being in my life this year and helping me make it what it was (Christina, Maria, and Tierna especially). I love you all; especially those of you I got to know better this year-I'm so grateful to have had that opportunity. I hope you have great summers and I can't wait til next year =)

"Yesterday is a history, tomorrow a mystery."

Peril

No.
Stop.
Wait.
Don't.
Don't you dare.
Don't fall in love with me.
Please, I'm begging you.
Don't do it.
It isn't safe.
It isn't ok.
I'm broken.
I'm a jinx.
I'm going to mess it up.
I always mess it up.
Turn back now;
Before it's too late.
It's for your own good.
I'm going to hurt you.
Something will go wrong.
It's going to break my heart.
I'm going to get hurt.