Artistic Intentions

New York 6

2009-07-16T18:42:03Z

We were about two weeks into the summer when he told me that he was offered the Assistant Manager job in Nanaimo. Ideally he should be Assistant Manager of the Courtenay store, but that didn't happen. When he told me about it he wasn't sure if he wanted it, but I told him that he should take it. I didn't know what would happen if he turned it down. Possibly he would stay here and continue the commute to Nanaimo every other day.

What I thought was that I didn't want him to turn down an opportunity that would really benefit him for me. Not when we didn't potentially have a future, although that was more so when he took the job.

He said he refused to take it before September, because that's when I was leaving. But when he started commuting more he essentially took the job but wouldn't move until I left. I know that him taking the job, him moving to another city, changed things. I can't say anything though since I told him to take the job. Its important as the girlfriend to be supportive but ironically because I supported this, I essentially won't be the girlfriend anymore.

Its funny how life works. I started telling myself that he wouldn't be here when I got back, no matter how much I wish he would be. How much I wish he would be in the airport with my family waiting for me. How I could visit the same apartment when I came home for Christmas. How I could make meals with him and his roomate. I had to come to terms with those things when he told me about the promotion.

I wasn't going to tell him to turn down a promotion for us when I was the one flying halfway across the country. It wouldn't be fair to him. I had a lot of sad days after that because I was either working or spending time with him.

New York 5

2009-05-24T04:18:13Z

My pulse quickened very suddenly knowing I was about to walk in. I did my best to look composed as I got up out of my seat and walked up to her door. I glanced over at Charlotte's desk and she raised an eyebrow at my hesitation. With a simple smooth motion she reached out in front of her and dramatically turned an invisible doorknob. Instinctively I opened the door. I knew the secretary was shaking her head behind my back.

According to what I was told I stepped into the room as quietly as I could. I saw Jess facing the back wall where a row of windows filled it with light. She seemed to be talking to herself with her arms crossed. I stood facing the same back wall and slowly closed the door behind me. It shut with a slight click. Jess looked over her shoulder and I then noticed a Bluetooth in her right ear.

"Oh I know," She said still talking to whoever she was on the phone with, "religion is just as controversial as anything anti-religion." She gave me a smile and politely motioned for me to sit down at the chair in front of her desk. She then turned back towards the windows intently listening. I noticed the view she had from her office as I went to sit down.

"But that's what makes you so controversial and in the limelight, whether its good or bad, you offer no limitations. Let's be honest now, you're no conservative man." She smiled. My curiosity peaked with the latter. My patience was running low hoping she would take a second, longer look at me. "Ha, you know I'll write that in an article, editors don't necessarily write you know."

I wondered how well she knew this person.

"Go do something illegal, I'll be there next week. Haha, awesome, bye!" Jess started laughing slightly and turned around to face me. "Sorry for the wait." She smiled shaking her head.

"Not a problem." I replied shrugging. "Do you mind me asking who you were on the phone with?"

"Oh you know, Brian Warner, he was on our cover last month for his new album." She replied casually. I watched her pop out her Bluetooth and set down on her desk.

"He must be a fairly recent artist, I haven't heard of him before." Jess' whole demeanor changed at my reply. She seemed to glare at me in disbelief.

"Excuse me Sir," she replied coolly, "I think you may wondered into the wrong building, this is Rolling Stone." She was still standing and she crossed her arms in a superior manner. I was surprised with her sudden change in mood and could only draw up blanks in reply. "How did you get into this building?" Jess demanded.

I quickly offered up the card David gave me. It was pass for VIP guests. Jess examined it looking more confused.

"I thought my appearance would be a red flag to you." I said without thinking.

"I don't judge by appearance Sir, its your lack of knowledge that makes me wonder why you're here. Anyone who's employed by this magazine knows that Brian Warner is Marilyn Manson's real name." I really wanted to slap myself then. I knew how much of a fan Jess was. My mind was comprehending on how she was on the phone with the person in question.

"I'm so sorry." I said quickly.

"Is that your SUV in that VIP parking spot?" I could see the wheels in her head turning.

"It is -"

"-And David gave you permission to park there." So she figured it out. I nodded. "Who are you? Why the hell are you here? You obviously went to a lot of trouble to be sitting where you are now." She leaned her hip against her desk expectantly.

"My name is Ryan Sykes." I said. "We met at the Rocky Mountain Cafe about ten years ago." I smiled at the memory. "You had a blue streak, purple streak, and black hair back then."

"Oh my God." Jess said. "It seems so long ago."

A Side Note.

2009-05-21T04:06:43Z

I've noticed that I've had a few new friends here on livejournal, its interesting to see because I wonder if its from my recent start up in writing.

Anyone is welcome to friend me, and its likely I'll add you back. If your motive is purely to read my stories I'll always welcome new readers. I'm hoping to gain more of a audience, and also I hope to keep the writing a constant.

I'm in the process in organizing going to school in the fall so I can't promise an update every week.

If anyone is wondering about my current New York posts, its a story alternating in two points of view and its going to be going on for a while. Feel free to comment!

New York 4

2009-05-21T03:56:59Z

There was this time we went to the beach with his dog, and his roommate, and his roommate's girlfriend. It was overcast, so the strapless summer top I wore at the time almost seemed pointless. We got the dog out of the back of the car with the leash on her, but as soon as we were on the sand past the driftwood he let her off. I watch the dog race across the sand and Ryan threw rocks into the water. She chased after them getting herself very wet.

I watched Ryan find sticks for Quinn and throw them father from the shore. She went deep enough to swim to them. He was so enthusiastic with the dog it was entertaining to watch. He asked me to hold the leash for him. I know he did so because then he knew it wouldn't be lost. Knowing him its likely he would set it down somewhere and lose it not long after.

Every so often as Quinn ran all over the beach in circles I would catch up to Ryan. He's wrap his arms around me and kiss the top of my head. I had a lot of patience with the time we had there since I obtained some energy from the raspberry mocha he bought me earlier. There were times when we took moments and just put our heads together and smile. Ryan would stand behind me and put his arms around me, kiss the side of my head, kiss my cheek, then I'd turn my head for a proper kiss. We lost track of Quinn because of moments like that.

As I write this now it occurs to me that we'd been together over seven months by then and we didn't get tired of each other. Maybe it was because nothing got too routine, how we waited so long to tell each other I love you, or possibly because I was a virgin. I can tell myself because of that, we really did have something special.

As we walked down the beach Ryan found Quinn another stick and ran even farther down the beach with her. I stopped a watched him being so enthusiastic with his dog and sighed.

"You're so young." I said to myself indifferently. A small part of me was envious, since it was not in my nature to be carefree like that. It was ironic because Ryan was twenty-three and I was eighteen at the time. I was content there on the beach, watching my boyfriend and his dog kick up the sand.

New York 3

2009-04-22T04:46:23Z

I hadn't even talked to her yet and I was already a mess. Just seeing her, and hearing her voice brought back more memories more real than before. I suddenly remembered her smell, her laugh, her eccentric ranting, and how happy it made me so long ago. And this happened every time I told myself I was going to get out of the vehicle.

Finally I got a text from David: 'Get your ass up here straight boy.' I ran a hand through my hair and finally opened my door. I gathered my keys, my wallet, and my cell shoving them in the pockets of my jeans. I got out and locked the door as I walked to the elevator. I pulled out the VIP Guest ID card to open the doors and stepped in. As the doors closed I could see my reflection in them. Seeing myself there slightly catches me off guard. I was sure I had a blonde moment when I thought I saw myself much younger. I then realized I have changed too, and maybe just as much as her. I made the effort to dress conservative and casual because its just how she would remember me.

The doors open, David stands there with a impatient expression and tapping his foot. David was almost overbearing.

"Fast elevator." I laugh nervously. David rolls his eyes.

"Why are blondes are her type?" He mutters to himself. I didn't know what to say to that so I kept quiet. We start walking down the hall and I find I'm towering over most of the people that work there. David glances over at me and shakes his head. "You two must have looked ridiculous as a couple." He comments.

"She was the smart one." Why did I say that?

"Yes and you were the cute one I imagine." David replies sarcastically. Again, I didn't reply. We stopped off at a room at the end of the hall. A girl looking to be in her mid-twenties sat at a desk outside an office door. The door seemed to lead into a very big room, I looked at the name on the engraved metal. Jess Morton: Senior Editor.

I sat in one of the leather chairs in this room, its seemed to be some sort of waiting area. I read the name-stand on the girl's desk. It read Charlotte Shaw: Reception. David casually walked up to Charlotte's desk.

"When she's done with her morning calls tell her there's a Mr. Sykes to see her." David said in a business-like manner. Charlotte glanced over and scanned me from head to toe.

"Whatever this is David, she's going to know you were behind it." She replied more personally with narrowed eyes. I could see why Jess hired her, she possessed intellect to a point where nothing got past her. "We don't interview golfers." I looked down at my golf shirt feeling slightly self-conscious. She knew there was something more to it.

"Ha! Jess knows I like to pull on her asymmetrical haircut. I'm her bitch and she's mine." David grinned. Charlotte shook her head and turned her attention to her Macbook.

"David, you trying to be professional to me, I'm gonna know something is up." He seemed even more pleased with such a reply and started to walk away.

"Good luck blonde boy." He said over his shoulder. I'm being chauffeured by a lunatic of a fruit. I heard Charlotte giggle. I looked over at her desk.

"You must be feeling anxious here because you're reading like an open book." I felt a little taken aback by how plain she was with a complete stranger. I looked over her. She had a star tattooed near her hairline, long blonde volumized hair with orange streaks through it, and coordinating make-up and clothes.

"Is it really that obvious?" I asked a little frustrated.

"Hey you're the most conservative person in the building, its clear you're not employed here." She shrugged. I felt my face heat up in slight panic. "Don't flip," Charlotte said without looking up, "its not going to help your situation."

"Will she know who I am do you think?" I asked. Charlotte gave me a look like I just had a blonde moment. "Mr. Sykes, you do know I have no idea who you are in relation to Miss Morton." I realized with her change of tone I was getting a little too personal on her.

"I'm sorry," I said, "that was out of line." Charlotte pressed a button on her desk phone and talked into her bluetooth.

"Jess, a Mr. Sykes to see you. Alright." She looked at me. "She's just finishing a call, try to be quiet when you go in."

New York 2

2009-04-17T05:21:24Z

Back when he still had his Mazda 3 he had me over one night. He was talking about how he need to go to Vancouver to get some vehicles to increase his fleet. He said that maybe he should drop me off early because he needed to make some phone calls at the office to find some drivers.

At the time we were lying in bed watching a movie on his laptop. I said okay to what he said. He then asked what was wrong.

"What do you mean?"

"You're all quiet."

"I just wish I didn't have to go home at nine-thirty." I did my best not to make him feel guilty, wondering why he had to take me home then when we had until midnight. A part of me was frustrated, and even disappointed. We continued to spoon and cuddle in silence watching the movie. I think Ryan had trouble taking the silence because he was so used to hearing me talk. I thought it would be a nice change for him because my mother tells me I talk too much. Ten minutes later, although I was still disappointed, I told myself that I'd see soon. I was coming to terms with our time suddenly being cut short.

"You know what?" Oh god don't tell me you want to go now because you're tired.

"What?"

"I'll take you home at eleven thirty."

"Really?" I was excited, my tone of voice changing drastically.

"I'll take you with me when I go make some phone calls across town. We don't get that much time together anyways." He pulled me closer giving me a hug. "Is that okay with you?"

"That's fine." I said not having a problem with it.

Eventually we went for a drive across town and he suggested before we left that we'd for ice cream on the way back. When we got there we turned some lights on and he went to his desk looking for numbers. I watch him from about a foot away, he seemed stressed feeling bad for bringing work into our relationship like this. I kept my distance, afraid I might distract him. He sat on his chair, desk phone in hand, hunched over, and making phone calls. I saw that he chose line three each time. He called, left messages, and crossed off names he scrawled on a piece of paper. It was taking longer than he expected.

As he started to make another call he held his free hand in the air slightly reaching for me. I went over to him and held his whole free arm. I did my best to comfort him. He left a message at the number he was currently calling.

"I'm sorry this is taking so long, but I just can't screw up my day." His anxiety level made me worry.

"Its okay," I said reassuringly, "I admire your work ethic." I really did. I tried to scratch his spine through his thick coat hoping to calm him. My hand was on his shoulder and he would reach for it when his hand wasn't writing anything down. I was hoping that me being there was helping him somewhat. Eventually he found his drivers and he took me into his arms holding me tightly.

I always wished we had more time together. I really did.

New York

2009-04-14T19:33:07Z

I waited in my black SUV in the parking space that David let me have privileges too. The space in the parkade of this building was usually reserved for VIP guests of the magazine. I had to contact one of her close friends just to get past security, not because this was a bank, but because it was private property. I hadn't seen her in over ten years, and that scared me. I had no idea if she'd even remember me. So here I am, waiting in my black SUV hidden behind the tinted windows like a stalker.

Five minutes inch by and I think of the last time I saw her. I relive some of our most important memories in those five minutes that make it seem like a few hours. David, her co-worker, said she would arrive at eight-thirty, this way she'd have time to get through security and organize any messages she got over the weekend. Although David had said him and Jess didn't work in the same department they were good friends outside of work. I thought of the day her and I met, how she smiled at me, and the first time we kissed, how she pointed out that there can't be a sunset when its overcast.

I am completely lost in thought remembering how youthful she was with me, even though she said when she turned eighteen it was time for her to grow up. I suddenly heard some music from a car driving in around the corner. It was easily audible in the quiet underground parkade. She drove smoothly in a small bright green sports car perfect for her height of five foot two. She parked in the space right beside mine, reserved for the senior editor. I heard lyrics and beats I didn't comprehend but sounded so vaguely familiar. I guessed it was Marilyn Manson. I just sat there not seeing her too well while she still sat in the car.

Then she opened the door, keys in hand and converse shoes stepping out. I knew it was her as soon as I saw her muttering to herself and making hand motions. It was something she picked up from me. She was wearing a black female suit with a green blouse and a navy blue tie. Despite her footwear she had a professional air about her that I didn't recognize with a Bluetooth clearly visible in her ear. I started questioning if it was her and my head filled with doubt about what I was doing. She looked over at my SUV raising an eyebrow. For a minute as she looked more confused the more the looked over the vehicle I thought she saw me. Then she started talking and I realized she was getting a phone call.

"David darling what the hell did you do now?" I heard her say. I watched her shake her head as if David had done something completely idiotic. She walked towards the elevator and pushed the button. "I should be on the lookout for something? Should I be alarmed?" I now knew it was her, all doubt was gone for good. That smart ass side is one of the things I fell in love with. "I'll know it when I see it, you're going to have to be more specific than that." Jess was always apprehensive about surprises, I knew the longer David kept her out of the loop the more aggravated she was going to be. Jess continued to talk on the phone and the elevator doors closed.

I just sat there for a minute. So much of her I recognized and so much I didn't. The fact that she was so professional caught me off guard and I looked at what I was wearing. Running shoes, jeans, a golf shirt were not really appropriate for an office setting. I never stopped to think how out of place I'd be at Rolling Stone, but I knew it was too late to change my mind now.

blunt.

2008-03-30T04:21:18Z

Days are filled with long distance suicide. The virtual blood filling a screen.

Sickness infects the stomach. Keep us at home to lose the colour in our skin.

John is full of determination and I respect that. Its people like that you are glad you got to know better.

Graduated Romance

2008-03-25T02:16:32Z

John and I always talked about starting a band. He would play piano/guitar sing vocals and I would play the drums. I even looked into taking drum lessons during Spring Break the year we really started to get to know one another. But I couldn't bring myself to fork over that $120 dollars every month, not when I only worked ten hours a week.

He also was the one who really got me into Marilyn Manson. He was one of those hardcore fans, and I think it was a big influence in his life. Megan had said he was obsessed the day she finally met him in person. He was the kind of person that would start conversations with lyrics from Manson's songs, or talk about the kind of stuff that happened at his concerts.

John, in my personal opinion, was a very open minded person. In some ways he reminded me of myself, only he was more open with his opinions. I liked him because of both of these personality traits, and also because I felt he would understand me more.

Him and I were good friends, I valued his friendship, and I later found out he valued mine quite a lot.

I didn't think we should actually start a band and try to make it big. I didn't ever tell him that, or put him down for his ideas. I always supported him, and I thought he would find his way in life just like the rest of us. I wanted to help him by making feel like he could accomplish whatever he wanted. That way, he would probably end up with a better life.

I always thought John should be a professional actor, firstly because he was very talented, and secondly because I knew he had what it takes. I'd come and see his plays, and encourage him. I knew that one day we would both actually leave our hometown and actually accomplish something with our lives.

It was probably harder for John, because he was two years older than myself, living at home, and didn't really know what he wanted to do with his life. He was different than me in those ways, I was still in high school, pretty much a straight A student, and had picked my University.

I really wanted security, he didn't, and thats what I had always admired about him. He wasn't letting fear holding him back.

Updates, about damn time eh?

2008-03-18T03:11:33Z

So the writers strike has been over for a while. Sorry about lack of info about that.

Right now I am in Vancouver on my Aunt's computer, which is annoying me like hell because the keyboard is loud when I type. You don't have that so much on Mac, which is what I own.

Anoyhow I'll write a little blip about Vancouver for you all, just because you know, I haven't really posted anything in for freaking ever. >>

__________________________________________________

There are many things apparent when traveling aroung Vancouver. One: there is a huge population of people of Asian nationality. Two: It seems that two out of every three people have headphones on, its most likely, but neccessarily, an ipod.
I find that the city itself is purely urban industrialization. For a girl from a small town on Island its likely to be very exciting. A girl such as myself is a prime example of that. I do like all the shopping and the fact that there is a starbucks on every corner. The homeless people on the street remind me of my acounter with one yesterday. The homeless themselves I find are not as obvious as the homeless in Vancouver.

When my brother, mother, and myself are in our red Dodge Grand Caravan. I tell her about Bowling for Columbine and how the tragic event and how Marilyn Manson was pinned for it. Then I tell her about this guy in a dirty hoodie and bloodshot eyes asks me if I can spare some change. And also that I couldn't spare any.

Numbers.

2008-03-11T19:41:41Z

The document said '2.5 children'.

How is it possible to have half of a child? Its just a number, an estimate, a median of the average. To the government we are a statistic, a pie chart, or a reason not to invest money in the health care system or education. The numbers on that piece of paper, how high it is, its just the reason to put all the money into the armed forces.

The birth rate goes up. The deaths have increased slightly.

10.65 million people. Its just a number, an estimate, an impersonal excuse to help our United Neighbors in their fight for oil.

So is the half child a gay or lesbian? Is the half child a fetus? How is it possible to have half a person, a person to ignore. There is no such thing as half a person. Not technically. A half person is still a person, even if this person is just the half on a piece of paper.

ice cold.

2008-02-23T06:31:13Z

"My hands are cold why would you want to touch me?" He looked at me with soft eyes. His hand was still reaching out, letting me choose whether I wanted to take it... or not. So I took his hand.

"That shouldn't mean anything." he replied. He still my hand strong, despite the goose-bumps that traveled up his arm.

"Your hands are warm, they feel nice." I smiled. His hands warmed mine, and I didn't feel so lonely anymore. I knew I didn't want to feel lonely anymore. My hands are always cold because of that.

talking

2008-02-19T23:47:58Z

I just keep talking. It makes you more comfortable not having to say a thing. You're looking at your hands.

I remember the time when things were simpler, before my feelings towards you changed. The time you remarked about the size of my hands and you held out yours for me to compare too. They're so much bigger. Just as you are so much taller.

I make a joke, or comment on something your wearing. The conversation picks up again, flowing like water. You have no idea that I know what you feel. You don't realize how long I've thought about what your little signs mean. I've always ignored them, pushed them aside, although I always did give them more of my thoughts. I never gave you a hint, being a little cold.

Life is only fair and you know it.

I know what you see. I give you no hint when I speak. You see a caged bird just waiting to be freed. You see what everyone else sees. Thats why I am holding back.

I just keep talking, we converse like my shoes. Smiling, laughing, joking, and your praying that I feel the same way. That there is something my eyes for you.

You don't know. You don't know that I am just as free as I am caged. I have plans to move away and to never really come home. I have plans to grow up and be a successful woman.

And I just keep talking. You keep hoping there is something behind my eyes. You don't see a thing, but I my emotions well.

We keep talking.

Lives.

2008-02-19T05:59:41Z

Lets play mind games
Fool each other like children
Playing a dangerous game

You may not see
The coy smile
Behind my eyes
I do see the thoughts
Hiding behind your mouth
Just wanting to be said.

I know your desires
Its pretty damn obvious
I lead you on
Like I am innocent
As I tell you.

Lets play mind games
Fool each other like children
Playing a dangerous game

We both get up
The next day
And pretend like its any
Other day.

Just as my games work
Yours are working on me
I do not understand why
Your eyes capture me
Like mine are capturing yours.

What is this called?
This doesn't seem real.
Where is reality?
I thought I was in control.
But then I lead you on.
And I got caught up.

It does feel right.
I'm a little scared now.
But you don't know.
I hide it all.

Like its just another day.
This is how we live our lives.
In lost games, confused with our sanity.

Feeling.

2008-01-23T17:40:26Z

My mind is spinning at a hundred miles an hour. I cannot stop it, bits of me are whirling away to places I do not know. Yet I am staying still in one place. Panic is erupting and pouring over the brim.

My mind, my mind! My mind is deceiving me. I think I am running away from an unstoppable tsunami about to reach my end. Really I am just sitting here safe and sound, not moving at all.

Why am I feeling this way?

....and why can't I stop it...

Hello Again.

2008-01-17T05:09:24Z

So this weekend I'm going to a screen-writing workshop and I am very excited. Currently I feel I have a lot of spare time which I am enjoying. I write my exams next week.

Also since I was a lot of free time tomorrow I need to do a lot of things. I need to go to the bank to get money for the workshop, then I have to return the movies I rented for the workshop, and I have to go to my voice lesson.

Then of course later that day I have to go to dance.

I think I won't have to worry about exercise tomorrow.

Anyhow, good luck to everyone in the WGA strike!

in silence

2008-01-13T03:25:30Z

More and more everyday I feel like I am becoming like my mother.

And despite what my sister says, and thinks, and I believe it is a good thing. If I was anything liker her, I'd be strong, brave, and have an amazing amount of patience.

The truth is.... every time my mother cries, yells, or disagrees, I understand exactly where she comes from. I feel like I am the only one in the family that really understands her.

Its lack of insight and an open mind that is the cause of this.

Have you ever thought that if you were anything, or becoming like any one of your parents would it be a curse, or a gift?

I don't have much left in the way of patience and strength. I am becoming weaker every single day.

Dance.

2008-01-12T03:08:57Z

Life is a dance
With twists, turns, and mistakes

Sometimes we get off beat
Or lose our rhythm
But the choreography
Is whatever you need it to be

Watch your steps
And make sure you warm up
Or you get hurt
And have a hard time recovering

Strike a Point

2008-01-06T07:24:38Z

"Don't you think the producers are starting to get a little desperate? They're putting up student films on the big American screen because of the writer's strike." Travis said one day while we were both outside studying.

"Its good for the students though, and those were films that won film festivals." I pointed out. Of course Travis was a little frustrated with me being so positive.

"Yeah, but the producers can't just keep putting up low quality student films."

"Thats true, but the fact is the world is changing. Did you expect that the strike was just going to be a simple changing the producers' attitudes situation?"

"Well thats true, but what are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you're going to be a screen-writer. You're watching the 'revolution' at the perfect time in your life. When you can fully understand. Now are you happy that the strike is happening, even though it may put your career on hold?"

"I am really happy about it, its changing everything about film and TV the fact that the stories we want to put out there are becoming more intellectual. No more dumb comedies, horror movies, soap operas, teenage crap. More stuff that really makes you think." Travis thought and smiled.

"You just want to put those kind of movies out there."

"Thats not my point Travis." He just laughed and went back to studying.

One thing.

2008-01-03T23:50:18Z

Everyone has one thing in common.

A secret.

Some secrets define who we are. Others just say what we're not.

And very rarely does a person come along with a secret that is not like them one bit. Therefore the secret doesn't say anything about that person. Sometimes, secrets are just secrets because of the people we're surrounded by. Not just fear keeps secrets alive, fear keeps it a secret. Fear doesn't keep the secret going.

So what's you're story?

Does you're secret define you, or is it just a simple ditty little secret?

It all depends on what it is.

New Year.

2008-01-02T06:07:13Z

I am passed out on the couch. She is under me because I fell asleep on top of her.

I start to think about how I will drink in the future. First time drunk, in my basement on New Years passed out on top of my friend. I know I won't want to get drunk very often. My head is very dizzy, and my stomach hurt a little. I drank barely anything, and I haven't drank since the year before on New Years.

I dank a cooler and a half, 7% alcohol. I drank it fast, letting my two friends take a sip but being selfish. It seems that if you don't drink very much it can take very little to get you drunk. That was my case.

Now I am passed out on the couch. I decide to get up and not sleep in my clothes that are fancy. It would be terribly uncomfortable. When I drink the world moves funny, and your head feels funny, and you can't comprehend. And trying to remember is like a dream, unclear and foggy.

I'm a virgin to everything. A good little girl, responsible, smart, hard-working. I do what I am told.

I learn, supposedly safely. I try to do the right thing, and prepare myself for the real world. Which would mean not getting drunk like fellow peers. Just drinking, so when I am at the bar with friends I won't have to order virgin.

I was drunk before midnight.

I went to sleep at 1:30. It had been a long day beforehand.

Here I am, I made the transition. I am sixteen. Short hair, jeans, shoes, laughing, learning, mistaking.

I am sixteen.

The Hours.

2007-12-27T18:04:55Z

I didn't expect snow today.

So think about the night before at the theatre. I still have time to kill before I go to work and I can't think about much else. How he was there.

To me, he wasn't anything anymore. He was my single best friend, but as time went on in our relationship we struggled more and more to find common ground. I realized earlier that day that I had really moved on from our fall out.

I had replaced him per say, with two other friends. Friends he himself had encouraged me to forget about because once again we had failed to find common ground.

And all I could think about, all I can think about now, is how she would say I am her best friend whenever she would introduce me to people we ran into earlier that day. We had spent the day at the mall, pretty much doing absolutely nothing.

So when I realized he was at the show the other night. I didn't feel any regret, maybe a bit of awkwardness between us of course. To him I do not exist. Which I have accepted.

Our fallout didn't come at a cost for me. I gained from it.

A part of me will still have a hard time dealing with the fact that I will choose to step out when we share the same social circle.

To me things change for the better. To him I am nothing.

It doesn't matter either way.

The things we learn. While waiting in the snow.

In The World of the Lost

2007-12-26T02:26:49Z

I don't understand
Where does it come from?
The hate inside you

Can I walk with you?
So I can what is true
You're so far from me
But most of me wants to let you be.

I just want to get high
On the some good feelings
Can I please fly away

I wave my hands
And I move with the wind
She lifts a finger
And everything is silent
I float around in my subconscious
Like a calm silent lake
Yet its out of control

Then everyone is gone
And I don't know why.
I'm sleeping on stars
The moon is my blanket

And you're still here
You're even more lost than I am
You fail to possess insight
I call out to you!

I tell everything that you do not see
But you cannot hear me
So you slip further and further away
And I call out to you
But it only brings me back
To the people you took me from

You are staying in the world of the lost
After everything you put everyone through
I stood to understand you
I finally understand
That you are just as helpless as I am.

So I am not as lost as before
For you are my sister
Without you I am still lost
Just not enough to be
Where you lie.

In the Land of the Lost.

Don't hate the world, its too big.

2007-12-16T20:55:43Z

Footsteps seem so small
So I scribble with my right hand
Cramps and pains moving all around
I run
To get the ticket

I sit
In a plane
A boat
The threatre
My hair standing on end.

Oh lovely
The lights that blind you
It lights up your eyes

Blood shot.
My right hand scribbles
Telling you that
I'll be there one day

Five more minutes
And I'll be back later
Thank you.

The lights are always there.

Ave Maria

2007-12-12T06:14:35Z

Walking there and here. I feel like nothing is real.

The cold confused me. So she, that girl walking with me, didn't even stop to think when I took a different route. Maybe she knew I didn't want to go home yet. I don't know what I thought, I didn't know anything.

I felt like nothing, like air that should just float off into nowhere. She and I walked down the hill. All the while, my sister's words repeating in my head. Dancing with piano music the words spun and wove like an intricate blanket of hate wrapped around me tightly.

So she, that beautiful girl walking beside me, took hold of my hand. Her hand was warm, and it was then I realized how cold I really was. The cold reached me, my core, separating my thoughts from reality. So the world around me seemed to move in a strange way.

We eventually found the playground to the nearby elementary school. It has long since been deserted. The darkening sky strengthening the late hours of the day. We reached an empty field, and she held my hand gently pulling me towards the open space.

I felt like I was being pulled into the sky. We moved in slow motion like a dream.

We danced around in circles.

Ave Maria gra-tia-ple-na

Then we fell on the grass. And rested there.

ave ave dominus ...

I rested my head on her chest and she played with my long hair. We fell asleep there. She kissed me and we slept until our world was over.

A-ve, A-ve! Do-mi-nus, Do-mi-nus te-cum.

Thou canst save a-mid des-pair, a-mid des-pair.