My-Little-Ponyyyy

Hot n' Cold stuck in my head. Oh, Katy Perry and the 'my-little-pony' streaks in your hair I so envy...Yes, it's the same day, you don't need to tell me; I know. I think I want to try some streaks. Like just go to Hot Topic, buy a bunch of packs of those two dollar temp dyes and try purple and red and orange and green and see if it comes out like hers. Yes, rainbow hair is my inspiration. I love how I talk like I've got some sort of an audience. Come on invisible people, you love it too <3 Whaaat do I want to write about. I don't know. Jaaaay, talk to me. I wish I was rich. Superbly, fabulously, ridiculously, extraordinarily rich. This would never have happened. Do I obsess? Am I an obsessive person?
No, I'm clingy. That's it, isn't it? I cling to things, I cling to people, I cling to memories, I cling to possibilities, as small and unlikely as their desired outcomes may be...Is that normal, that I know what I want for myself? Well, not always, not quite. But a lot of the time, most of the time, I do.
And it's the things that I know that I want that I never make a move on. I'm not sure why. I am sure it's partly that I'm afraid. Maybe I'm a coward, even if that's the worst sort of thing to be out of everything as far as I'm concerned. But then, perhaps that's why. I don't know. There's a lot I don't know. There's a fair lot I do know too, though I'm not at all sure they're equal. Sometimes I feel like no one knows half as much as I do. Sometimes I feel stupid and small. But that's rare. I'm not stupid and small. I'm just a little lost is all.
Maybe, it's just that I'm afraid of the outcome, of both outcomes, the good one and the bad one. The chain reactions. If i did that, did this, then did that, what would happen? Even if it was what I was aiming for, would it make me happy? Worse, would it make them happy, the people I'm supposed to care about?
It always seems like it's the people I'm supposed to have forgotten that I really do love, and the people that are always with me that I don't.
Not that I seem like the type, but maybe I'm too careful, too cautious. I need to be told. I need to be reassured. And even then, everything seems fragile and glassy. Or no, more like a big, complicated pattern of dominoes, all painstakingly lined up. If I touch even one of them wrong, they all fall. Every single thing is a precarious situation.
I'm pretty instinctive, I think, where it counts. Or where other people count it. I would love to go cliff-diving, scuba-diving, para-sailing...That's fine. But give me a relationship, any relationship, and I can guarantee I'll ruin it for you or your money back. -__-
I'm just not sure anymore. At the very least, I've come a long way from where and who I was when I wrote my first blog here. I was pretty dramatic then, and even if I still am now, it's on a different level. I liked attention and, yeah, I still do, but I can control myself now, stop from trying to get it, stop from telling myself that it's a need when it can only be a want. And wants are not to be satisfied, not ever. I can't.
My wants always interfere with other people's wants. And where does that leave me? Just smiling and saying it's fine, really it is, it wasn't that important anyway.
It's like there's a special mechanism in me that says to just grin, just grin and bare it. Not so much because of other people's feelings, because sometimes they're total strangers, but...like an excuse. Like oh, look, someone else got there first, trash your dreams because...they won't work out anyway.
Maybe that's it, maybe not. But I do like to work things out like this, piece by piece, methodic. Isn't that ironic, my being so messy, after all. My thoughts are messy too, but that's something that bothers me, something that needs to be sorted through. Like when my armoire gets too full and mom says to go through it, throw out the things that don't fit, that I don't like, that I don't care about anymore. And then I get nostalgic, just the same way. I want to keep them, even if they're long past due to be thrown away, even if they're torn and ripped and bent out of shape and I have no business keeping them in my life. I want them to stay. And knowing they don't belong with me anymore just makes me want them more, like those ratty old t-shirts that you put in the 'Trash' pile, then grab back when no one's looking. It's sweet, it knows you, it feels right, maybe...you're still a little attached, even if it isn't right.
Am I making sense? I suppose here of all places, it doesn't much matter, right? I like blogging. I like that I can write as much as I need as fast as I need to without my fingers cramping. I like that it's not just an MS Word diary, that people can read it, that it's available, but that I still have my own level of privacy with it. That if someone ever saw this, maybe they'd understand. Even if they never said so, maybe someone would read this, someone who feels the same way, who gets it. Maybe I'll be able to tell. Maybe I won't feel so crazy.
I think I just have some things to work through, to get rid of like I said. And I'm clingy, I said that too, didn't I? I remember. And that...I need to learn to let go. I'm probably as much the mental equivalent of a pack-rat as anything else. I go over and over in my head what might have happened, what I could have done, what they could have said, and mostly where I would be now, if things would be the same.
Maybe I've done enough talking....yeeeahhh. I think I'm talked out. No, not even close, isn't that frightening?

La

"It's not a war, no, it's not a rapture. I'm just a person, but you can't take it. The same tricks that, that once fooled me, won't get you anywhere. I'm not the same kid from your memory, well now I can fend for myself."
School is not so bad. Chem is actually kinda cool. In the space of forty six minutes I saw at least four things explode and/or go on fire. Spinning/Toning is yet to be determined. We just sit there and talk...Spanish is all juniors, but they're cool too, even if they call me 'Sophomore'. The English teacher is a bitch. Period. And she says there's gunna be a lot of public speaking -__- I'm like....hah, honey, I don't think so. Then Lunch...is...subjective to a lot of things, I suppose it depends. It's passable, I guess, when it comes down to it. Math is boring, and I have to sit all the way up at the front of the row; clearly a fail. Global is boring too, and one of the hottest rooms. And Core Music is an utterly unsignificant waste of my valuable time. We never touch an instrument, never learn a music note, just vaguely reference out-of-date composers like they just put out new albums.
I don't like waking up early. I just got up from a nap. Now I won't wake up tomorrow. *sigh* And...I'm in a very big Paramore mood. Which is fine. Really. I wanna see them again. They're pretty much just epic. In so many ways. And nearly as relatable as Taylor Swift. Nearly. Hayley Williams
Hmm....Why am I as clueless here as on my first blog? I guess it's a new year, new times, different outlook. I started this blog almost two years ago, can you believe? I think that's pretty incredible, really. I think a lot of thing have changed. Things are sort of hanging now, in between. I don't know if that should be significant to me. Writing is not coming easily :/ And now making songs come is sort of difficult too, like I hear them but they're transferred over into my head on an old rabbit-earred radio and by the time they get there they're just not the same. And words, forget it, do not just come. But I'm not really unhappy, so maybe it's just one of those creative blockages? I don't know.
I'm writing a lot of nothing so I'm going to not write anything instead, see if that works out more smoothly ^_^