Millions of Cutout Faces

Envying gazes,

Cutout faces;

Our lingering lies,

And broken amber eyes.

Her dull eyes faintly rest on the camera while flashing a beautiful smile, even as she thinks to herself, "I'm so stupid."

8/26/09

Last year, I got this calendar. It's the paper kind that you see in offices with little notes under the date written all over the place. So it was on sale for a dollar at the store, and my mom asked me if I wanted to get it. At first, I had no clue what to do with it, but for some odd reason, I said yes, and I bought it, took it home, and found out that it didn't fit on my desk. Great. So then I decided to stuff it underneath my bed, and write what happened underneath the date, everyday. So I did. And now I am completely addicted.
It's a lot easier and less sappy than a diary, with still something to say, you know? And it's a lot quicker, and takes just three minutes to jot something- anything that you thought was funny or horrible -down. All this time I've been writing, I haven't even looked over what I had been writing for almost a year in tiny boxes. And the first date I read was today, a year ago.
It's odd reading something from a year ago, on the exact date, still someone you've yet to come. I've always wondered to myself, Gee, I wonder what I was doing on this exact date, identical time, three years ago. And let me tell you, reading it gave me the chills. Almost like looking in the mirror, and seeing yourself, but with a mask on. You can see all the flaws, the differences, and all the mistakes. It's creepy.If I could go back in time, I would have told myself this: Stop worrying about all the small things. Just look in the mirror. I mean, really, look. You're beautiful, stop changing yourself. Popularity and pretty faces and brands aren't everything, actually, they're nothing. You should think more about the good things about yourself, instead of tearing everything apart, trying to morph into something you're not, and never will be. Just live. Say yes when he asks you out with that pleading look in his blue eyes, leave your hair alone, and open your eyes. Open them, look around for a minute. It's a really beautiful place.
But I can't tell myself this. I can only warn myself now.
Today may have been average, typical, boring, but someday you'll look back on it and smile for what it was.

I turn around and he's standing in the middle of the hall, smiling at me, but I can't think of anything to say. We stay like that for a minute until he inclines his head and goes where he's going and I'm alone, like I've wanted forever, except that's not really true because mom's waiting for me outside and there's a shrink waiting for me in the city and there's nothing I can do about the past.
- Parker in Cracked Up to Be by Courtney Summers, p. 214

Guess I've waited too long for me to allow you to come up and sweep me into your arms like you always said you wanted to, huh? You used to let me wear your sweatshirt over my own in the rain, even when all you had underneath was a tee shirt. You let me keep your gloves, which I still sometimes drag out from the basement where we keep the winter stuff and press my nose to them, making me feel things again like I used to. I can still feel your hands around my waist as we moved around the yard dancing like complete idiots together in the freezing cold, my teeth chattering in happiness. I remember walking through the woods, even when my mom had no clue where I was. I remember whenever I was sad, you'd crouch down next to me and lean into my face, whispering something totally stupid into my ear that would make me crack up laughing. I remember the conversations in my front yard after school that were endless and the words would roll off my tongue with ease. I still know the nickname you gave me, even when you think I don't. I remember all those times you asked me out, and even while I was screaming yes inside, I'd always say no.
Why why why why why why why not?
You're the only guy that's ever given me the time of day, and now I don't even trust my girlfriends to tell my secrets to.
I miss you so much, trying to be content with the memories of when I was truly, fully happy.

It's My Life

I've recently decided to give up my music lessons. It's not that I hate them, I'm just more interested in other things now, like writing and painting. Sometimes in order to live to the fullest, you have to give up things that have been apart of you for years. Right? You never know if it's the right thing to do until you actually do it and risk it all. So that's what I'm gonna do. I'm quiting.
What boils my blood is the fact that my family says I shouldn't, and I should keep taking lessons, as always, as usual. But here's the thing: I don't want to keep taking lessons that I dread every week, or perform twice a year. I'm not like the other girls there who wear wooden clogs and long braids (not trying to steryotype). I'm in there with my banged-up sneakers and skinny jeans, feeling like a sore thumb among all of the other girls who give me dirty looks when they pass. So why not try something else? Why is such a problem to everyone else that I'm trying to be happy and just me?
Everyone else thinks they can tell me what to do, but again, it's my life, always has been. It's not for everyone else to yank around and fit into their lives. My mom's okay with it, but everyone else just doesn't get it.
I'm going to do what's best for me, not for them.

Summertime

"In this job", Morgan told me after a dinner rush, "You get a lifetime of experience every day. A crisis will crop up, worsen, come to a head and resolve itself all in fifteen to thirty minutes. You don't even have time to panic. You just push through." ~ Morgan in Keeping the Moon, p. 51

I've always wanted to do that, and this year, I finally did:

Summertime is an incredible stretch of weeks that's a clean slate, the perfect time for anything to happen, and sometimes I wonder why it's not my favorite time of the year. There are many reasons why I love summer, and sometimes, I don't even notice them. And that's sad.

I love when the frogs and crickets hum lazily in the woods late at night, and staying at the beach all day, your hair curly and stiff from the saltwater and sand, face freckled from the sun. Then, once it's time to go and pack your things up, you just feel perfectly content sleeping the whole way home, the sounds of the beach still lingering, lingering in your head. I love sitting outside in the dark, the warm dirt and sweat on your forehead cooling, feet black from running around all day. I love taking pictures and laughing. I love eating ice cream, because sometimes, ice cream just seems to be able to melt all your troubles away. I love not caring about my hair or a schedule. I love swimming, pushing through the water slowly, and thoughtfully, and then diving under, cooling everything off, the only sound around you being the whirl of bubbles spinning around your head.
Gotta love that.

I was tagged by Sanchez (The Inky Finger Files) to fill in 12 likes, and 8 hates, like in Cassie's therapy video. So here's how mine turned out.
Acabradabra, wow!
I like boys with big green eyes and girls who can see themselves past a mirror.

I like 90's pop culture and classic rock.

I like the smell of oil paint, and the taste of black tea.

I like flats and legwarmers. Ray Bans also rock.

I like O.P.I.

I like those days when you're outside all day and are incredibly happy just sitting there.

I like windy back roads.

I like picking blueberries and peaches in the orchards.

I like mental health days.

I like homemaid chocolate chip cookies.

I like laying under my blankets in the morning when they're cozy and the air is shivery.

I like my neighbor, also my best friend.

I love the ocean.

Today I re-read my favorite stories over and had went swimming.
In some ways, I love everything. It's less, it's less of a thing to like, it's less distinct, it's less particular, I like things that I like but I love everything. There's more choice in like, cos even the worst things have things you love in them.

I hate the fact that it's hard for me sometimes to live in the moment.

I hate that everyone thinks they all have depression these days, and they need medication when they really don't.

I hate materialistic people.

I hate letting the sun go down on my anger.

I hate being restless and bored.

I hate the government.

I hate thinking so much, but in a way love it, because I've learned so much about life along the way.

I hate thinking about what I hate.

I hate this, wow...

Sorry.

I'm tagging laura marie (a diary of little things and curiousities), RaNdOM RAWR (RaNdOM RAWR), and Chloe (Butterfly Cupcakes & Daffodils).

Mush

I have this notebook. It's purple and just a plain old 1 subject notebook with the metal spirals on it, and I write everything I can think of in it. I write a lot of poems for fun that I'll never show anybody but myself, and it's all in that notebook, along with little passages to books I've written for fun, and quotes, and song lyrics. Sometimes I even print out little posts from other peoples blogs that I think are incredible and tape them onto the pages, and they don't even know it. Someone's gonna find it, they will, and that's okay with me. In fact, I want somebody to find it, to read it all, and most important, to understand every little secret I'm keeping. I've been writing and drawing in that notebook all day. Today is just one of those days where it's been pouring since last night off and on and all there is to do is sit around in your pajamas and spend the whole day writing and drinking cup after cup of tea, and then at night watch a movie with salted Jiffy Pop on the couch. So that's what I've been doing, and loving every moment, pushing that nagging voice saying stop being lazy and get up and do something useful to the side for awhile to just enjoy myself. It's that kind of day where it's okay to eat a spoonfull of sugary frosting all to yourself, or look at pictures on weheartit.com all day till your brain turns to mush. So be it.

I love mental health days. And frosting's good, too.

Firefly Flurries

Lively memories flicker across my eyelids, a blurred slideshow, and tug at my throat
And my heavy glowing eyes
All those sickly-sweet memories that have shaped me into who I am,
Vivid nights etched into the velvety darkness, among all those wild fireflies.

With nothing in my hands but a battered and torn up map of the ragged coast, I wish I could just kiss my parents g'night and climb into a junky car. If I could, I'd drive along the coast in a convertable, the wind blowing and whirling around my face while I blasted the radio. My Ray Bans would glint against the reddish gold sunset, and I'd just pull along side the road and stare out at the sparkling ocean, wondering if anything could be better than this...

Too bad, I can't drive.

I'm Okay

I got tagged by Amy (A Tree Grows) to do a four things activity. Okay, here goes nothing...

Four Things in My Bag:

1. Purple and black pens

2. Stretchy book covers with tons of holes in them

3. Lavender lotion

4. Burts Beeswax chapstick

Four Things in My Purse:

Actually, I don't have a purse.

Four Things in My Room:

1. Old porcelean dolls in my closet

2. My laptop

3. Nail polish

4. Cutout drawings that I've been making faster than my brain can think of them :)

Four Things I've Always Wanted to Do:

1. Write and publish a book

2. Raid a yardsale of all the good stuff

3. Travel to Europe (typical, yes)

4. Take a midnight walk that only I would ever know about

Four Things I'm Currently Into:

1. Painting and cutouts, since I'm an art junkie at heart

2. Flats

3. Peanut butter

4. Living in the moment so I can stop thinking so much!

Four Things I Bet You Didn't Know About Me:

1. I hate movies

2. I can't think of anything else!
Four Songs I Can't Get Out of My Head:

1. Welcome to Paradise by Green Day

2. Paparattzi (and I don't even like the song) by Lady Gaga

3. I don't know the name of the song, but it goes, "Dream, dream, dream, dream!"

4. Spiderwebs by No Doubt

I'm tagging Joy (Life of Joy.), audrey. (emotions explode), and xoxo, Hannah (Perfection.). Sorry, I don't know how to add a link with people's names, so I have to do it by their blog titles. Since I don't really have much else to say, I'll post some pictures that I love:

I love the flats and legwarmers combo. Maybe I'll try that this year... are legwarmers considered tacky or slightly vintage? Does anyone know?

This picture inspires me to write something, anything that has some meaning and depth. So maybe I will...

My puzzle may be scattered everywhere, stray pieces attempting to find their way again, but I've decided that it's okay. I'm okay. I've been trying so long to put together myself, the stew of my puzzle, but now I've realized that I am never going to be complete, perfectly knowing all, because life is always throwing something at me, just another piece to my flawlessly chaotic jigsaw puzzle pile. Instead of trying to pick up the pieces and go home, I'm letting them lie there, gathering dust so I can get a better look at things and examine them, looking at them in ways I never imagined real. I guess this is me being me, changing a little everyday, always becoming something different.

And it's all going to be okay.

...Well, I guess I really did have something to say, huh?