"I read it in an article online..."

Do you hear that sentence I started with? Utter RUBBISH. Rubbish, I say!
Right now, I'm talking to my friend on the 'phone.

Your phone on drugs.

And now I'm not. What's there to say? Well,

If you start your kids in school early,
they'll be more okay with dropping out.
Seriously? That's so garbage...
but I started school at 4...
and I'm kind of okay with dropping out..



but you don't understand.
It's because I hate my schedule...
and my teachers...
and the friends I don't have
and I'm kind of okay with dropping out.

Oh God.

Do I think I'm awesome because I don't really want to finish school?

Not really. There should be a question mark there... ass.

Not at all. In fact, it terrifies me. I want to be amazing. Not mediocre. I want to be offered a handshake.

A real, honest-to-goodness, old fashioned "this is what we did in the good ol' days" handshake and said,

"We are offering you a CAREER."

THAT would make me drop out.

Not Mrs.Swiss-consin
Not Mrs. Math teacher from Hell
Not Mrs. Full-of-meself
Not even Mac Truffles.

None of THEM. I despise them. I will not let them beat me.
It doesn't help that I see.... it every day. That awful reminder that no, I can't have even ONE chance.
I'm happiest when I'm miserable.

Miserable. Miserable. Hah. What a funny word that is. "Miserable". From the French miserable... which is the same damn thing. Either way, I'm not really sure what to describe it as anymore. I don't think I'm depressed:

And that's why I'm going to stop here..

Butttttttttttttttt:

(Geddit?)

I will spin you a -------^^^^^^^^^^^^___________________________^^^^^^^^ if you'd like to hear it.

i see what you did there

so much better than my "yarn" photo, no?

     Once upon a time, there was a little BOY. He had a best friend that he called drone. His best friend called him sketch. Actually, everyone did. His mommy died when he turned 9 years old. But he never knew his DAD, so it was just that much worse. He's 17 now, taking care of his little brother, Max-a-million. What's his name? Oh, I can't tell you. And neither will he. WHY? Well, his name died along with his mother. (I know, right?) and now he is only, just, and nothing but sketch. Because he. Can. Draw. I have no good evidence, because it is always washed away before I can photograph it. It is often not drawn in legal places, but it's OK because he never gets caught. He is in a ROCKN'ROLL BAND. The lead guitarist, a kid who looks like JIMI HENDRIX. And that (left) is drone. only younger.

It really doesn't matter what the picture says.

The reason they call him drone is because his last name is BUMBLE, and a "drone" is a type of bee. (<<See image.) The keyboardist is a boy we call wheels, and he is SICK. (Poor sicky wheels is ssick.) He has cancer, and he is terminal. He has blonde hair. He is not called wheels because he is in a wheelchair (but he is.) he is called wheels because he was the first BOY sketch and drone ever met that could ride a TWO WHEELER. The drummer is a boy named peter parker. Well, not really. that's his nickname. He has a TWIN BROTHER, and we call his twin venom, because sketch found out that he had a brother and had to name him. Peter Parker and Venom share the last name Webb, and it's a spiderman reference.

GEDDIT?

Anyways. Our boy sketch is the bassist. He juggles school (which the poor lad hates), his family (well, his brother), his "job" (acquiring money and "job" are really the same thing...) his friends (which are so good to him, but not good enough) and the band (which has a terminally ill member and an amazing sound). This boy sketch has a good heart. He is respectful. He is kind. He is strong and independent. And he meets the love of his life one day.

She is a GIRL, eyes violet and hair copper (<that's not the right color, but whatever. You know what copper looks like) and a wild, staring look and crooked grin that makes him fall heels over head for her. He likes her like mad. Her name is STELLA, but he sees her and calls her "Venus". WHY? "Because, you're the prettiest thing in the universe." And she smiled. sketch wants to marry this girl. Then, she doesn't mean to, but she does. She breaks his heart. She shatters sketch into a thousand thousand pieces and she cannot speak to him.
Sketch lives his hard life. He sells his drugs (that he hates doing but van gogh ((vincent, who is (((I swear))) a mafioso with his hair and accent and cough and demands for respect)) insists and asks him to, and why not? van gogh is one of his best friends), takes care of his brother, plays his guitar, misses his mom, goes to school, helps his friends, all and all is fine. Life goes on. He can't avoid seeing HER and he just wants to forgive her and get married and have kids and get out of his filthy city.

pictured: the epitome of filth

Then, sketch gets robbed. He brings max-a-million to the bus stop, and they mug him on the street. They see that he had 250 (in cash, no less!) in his wallet, but what they don't know is that that money is all that he has to live on until he makes more.his savings, checking, debts, bills, loans, spending money, food money, gas money, is all there in that 250. And they make him lead them back to his apartment. And they see that it is empty. No furniture. He had to sell it; but he would never tell anyone. not sketch. So, they force him into the place and see that it's empty? Funny kid. Funny kid. They take the only thing he has: his mom's necklace. From the good times. And what can he do but sit there?
And they leave. And he cries. He cries the way that a boy who had to become a man at 9 years old can. And he cried, because it was gone. His mom was gone.

Christmas rolls around. Sketch is somehow presevering. (< I spelled that wrong but will keep it that way because it's BEAUTIFUL!) Then, van gogh comes up to him and he says "i don't want to see you, van gogh. please. let me be, will you?" but he just shrugs "okay," he says, "i was just gonna give yous this. sorry i didn't wrap it or nothin'." and he tosses something through the air, and sketch catches it. why did van gogh have his mom's necklace? how did he find it for him? "thank you." was all he said..
and then his DAD shows up. His father who he's never met, but knew existed. He comes. WHY? It's a month and a half after his birthday, it's 8 years from his mother's death. WHY? He thought that sketch was 18. WRONG, sir. He's 17. He wanted money. He saw the empty apartment and was upset. Asked max-a-million about it, and max said "this is all we have." So he asked "where does your brother keep all your shopping money?" and the poor little boy says,

OH MY GOD, I THOUGHT I JUST LOST THIS. SO, I'M ENDING IT NOW. GOOD NIGHT, EVERYONE. IT IS 4:43H WHERE I AM. THAT'S 4 45 IN THE MORNING. I HAVE BEEN HERE SINCE SHIVA KNOWS WHEN AND I ALMOST JUST LOST THIS. 

Remember to love and you shall be loved in return. If anyone (at all) asks for the remainder of the story of sketch, I will gladly share it. Goodnight, everyone.

Busy Days

Foreword: my honest suggestion is ignoring this post all together. I decided I don't like it. But I couldn't just remove these words from existence... they deserve life, too.

:]

<3

Today was incredibly busy. Like... I don't want to get into it. Let's just say.

Wake up, your mundane life is starting, ass.

Pictured: First period.

It started here. It went here --------------^ 

Oh, oops. Wrong picture. I mean.

Look at those smiles. Those are smiles of ANGUISH!

yeah, here. Sure. That works.
It stayed here for 7 hours. Then, I had to somehow get to a piano lesson.
At 3.
School ends at 2:15.
Traffic usually gets me home by 3:30.
I live about 6 minutes away.
The piano place is 12 minutes away.
What?

Well, either way. Turns out, it was moved to 4.






Wow. This was a super pointless post. I apologize, public.
Please accept this apology:

What is this I don't even...

Goodnight, all.

The week that the computer died.

A/N: This was added in when I was nearly done with this entry. Good afternoon, kids. Feeling down? Well, I hope this helps:

Spoiler alert: Snap kills Dumbly-Dumm.

There's only a few days until the movie comes out, and even though I can't say I'm a HUGE fan, I must say that I am pretty excited to see it.
That picture is ridiculous.

*Ahem*

What to say on this day of days? Well, nothing really. I actually had to fight to make myself do this. I was sitting in my 3rd (technically second but whatever) "block", in creative writing class, and remembered Days Gone By.
 Here it is... no REAL need to click. [:
"Oh, no!" I said to myself. "I've forgotten my small blog that absolutely no one reads!" 

This is when I realized that I will probably lose my hyperlinks, and that would be super depressing. No one will know that the only thing above my words here is a simple light bulb, signifying my revelation that my picture's URLs will all eventually be broken links on the page. 

This was completely purposeful. Hah.

My blog just auto-saved. Do you know what that means? I could CLOSE this page and all that I would be missing is this explaination. <----That's spelled wrong. But I am not going to let my auto-correct fix it, because it is not broken.

I am not broken, either. Not yet. No one's foul words and harsh glares have broken me down completely. Am I funny? 

No.

Am I pretty?

No.

Am I talented?

Hell, no.

Am I worth reading about?

Probably not.

Am I keeping you interested?

You tell me.  

I was thinking the other day: The reflections on the walls and the echoes in the mirror: Something I said a while ago. It had a profound effect on a girl standing in the bathroom with me. I did not, do not, probably will not ever know this girl, but she was amazed.

Something like that. Well, Ehhh. I don't know if it was that persay... 

More like that, really. That picture also took about 20 minutes to load. haha. I mean, she didn't put her hands to her face, because she was washing them at the time and they would've been wet and uncomfortable to do so. Oh, and she didn't have skeleton hands--but that would've been really awesome. 

A girl today in my History class thought that Amsterdam was in Massachusetts. [ \ ] <--This was accidentally typed, but it is beautiful and deserves to stay there.

I told her "No, it's in The Netherlands."

"Ohhhh! I'm so dumb, okay! Yeah!" she says.

Then, some boy leans forward and says, "Wait... No. Amsterdam is in Denmark." to me.

I said, "Yes, also known as The Netherlands."

A boy named P**** K***y goes, "SHA-BOOM!! KILL SHOT!" complete with arm pump.

It made me smile. 

Later, I found out that I was wrong:

Not Pictured: Massachusetts.

But I don't speak harshly of this girl. In fact, I don't blame her. Did you know that there's a Paris, Texas? Next time someone says that they're going on a trip to Paris, you can laugh and tell them to pick up some Bar-B-Q for you. :]

"Come, take a taste of my meat..."

Yum yum yum yum yum. If you like that sort of thing. Personally, I have to suggest vegetarianism, myself. 

Yeah, now that John's dead, there isn't much meat that Paulie's been too interested in...

I was doin' it before I knew he was, though, honest. <3 (Oh, and the caption? TOTALLY not my idea. Mostly. Actually, I lied. I'm completely alone in my room, but in hopes that most people will take it with good humor.)

What else do I have to say? How did I start this? Oh, well. Sigh--what to say, what to say? Now That I've gone back and added that beginning bit, I feel like I should try to end this with a smile.

My dog looks just like that. 

:)

The post that serves as procrastination.

Good day, Sunshine.


How're you doing? All right? Alright.

Let me tell you one thing: It's bloody baltic here. Don't even know why I stay; oh, yeah. I can't leave. Well, anyways. That is what this is about: being stuck.

Stuck
Stuck,
Stuck--
Stuck;
Stuck.

What does it mean?

stuck

/stʌk/ Show Spelled[stuhk]

–verb

1.

pt. and pp. of stick² .

—Idiom 2. stuck on, Informal . infatuated with: He met her only once and is already stuck on her.

Well, wasn't that a useful bit of information. The power of the net is just amazin' sometimes. No.  I mean that I'm trapped. I'm completely immobile here, and I cannot for the life of me figure out what it is. Every second is a second wasted. Every moment not completely focused on something MONUMENTALLY IMPORTANT is wasted. Completely. Every moment that I'm not stoned or wasted is wasted--hah. Kidding with that last one. 

I reach for a piece of chewing gum and I realize that I have no idea what it's made of. Does that change our topic? Oh, you bet. 

People are so prissy about what they eat, and yet? There they go: chomp, chomp, chomp. It's disgusting. 

 You know what that is? Neither do I, love.

But there you sit. Chomp. Chomp. Chomp. You look like a:   ----->


You are what you eat, I suppose.










But I don't--it's been months since I've eaten a cow, (or has it been a year?) 

Not important. 

Either way, when people eat meat, they REFUSE to even so much as touch the damn thing if it wasn't "grown organically under all-natural conditions and fed only 100% pure pesticide free grass in an open field and killed under amazing conditions..." etc etc etc etc. But meanwhile, this woman is chomp chomp chomping away on a piece of chewing gum. 


Well, isn't that a bitch? I'd say so, madame. 


Jesus, I would do anything to shake people and ask them WHY. Why in general. Not "Why do you eat meat?" Or "why do you chew gum?" Or "why can't you chew it quietly!?" but more like,
"Why do I ask why?"


Because that's what it all comes down to, in the end. What is what, and why isn't anything anything more than it seems? 

Not sure, either. 




Christ, I'm freezing.

The First Post

...but hopefully not the last. What is this, anyways? Where am I? What's going on? Who is reading this? Writing this?
No one.
That's what I was going to call this blog. No one. Then, Nothing. Then? Yesterday. Then, I thought about what I plan on writing here.
What happens.

When days go by.

What do I feel by the end of the day? Well, it's just like all the others: it's gone now. Same thing on a different day. C'est la vie -- A smart kid said that to me the other day. I'd like to call him a friend of mine, but that may be overreaching. Either way, it's worth reading. It's what made me do this... and I feel as though it's just taking an idea of his.

Why is it that I stay up so late? I only hurt myself in it. I can't just sit like the others.

I wish I could. All of the sounds around me are blinding me as they demand my attention, because yes, Jena needs sleep now. Maybe she'll come up again... and at 11:43, here I am.
Sitting.
In my room.
Baltic.

"Every time I'm with you, I think of drugs." I am not sure if this is a good thing, but there it is, floating past my eyeballs and into the wall to my left. What I wouldn't give for silence. Even a minute. But there isn't any.
Hopefully, not everything I post will be this way. Not so... jumpy. So hectic. So awful. I just needed to introduce myself, and it seems that I can never get rid of a first impression, so here I go:

That is what I chose: Paul McCartney and John Lennon.

 

Yes, I wear rose colored glasses. Every day :]